Page 63 of A Beach House Beginning

Jenna wanted him to kiss her, even though she knew it would only leave her wanting more. She saw him swallow and had the most inappropriate urge to press her mouth to the strong column of his neck.

“I should...” She pointed to the house.

In the light cast from the flashlight, his expression seemed remote, hard. “Probably a good idea.” His voice suddenly seemed abrupt and she wondered what she had done.

“Are you staying out a little longer?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? It has to be nearly two.”

“I’ll get there eventually.”

Though she knew she needed to go inside, she was reluctant to leave him out here by himself.

They gazed at each other for a long moment as the night air seemed to sigh around them.

“Do you want to know the real reason I came out here?” he asked, his voice low and his features in shadow.

She shook her head, suddenly unable to find her voice.

“I had to do something physical to keep myself distracted from wanting something I can’t have.”

Her breath seemed to catch at the intensity of his words, the raw emotion there.

“What’s that?” she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I think you know, Jenna. You. You are what I want.”

Heat rushed from her brain to pool in her belly, her thighs.

She swallowed, not sure how to answer him, finally settling on the truth.

“That’s the reason I couldn’t sleep, either. I keep remembering...kissing you.”

He made a low sound, raw and hungry, and then the flashlight tumbled to the ground, pitching them into darkness as he reached for her.

When he kissed her, everything inside her seemed to sigh a welcome. She had wanted him to kiss her again for days. Forever, it seemed.

The reality was far better than any of her memories, and she was lost in the magic of his touch.

They kissed for a long time, tasting and exploring while the dog snored softly and the night breeze stirred the flowers around them.

She was only vaguely aware of Wes lowering down to one of the pergola chairs and pulling her with him onto his lap, where she seemed to fit perfectly. She felt a fleeting moment of gratitude that he had reinforced the chairs. How mortifying if one clattered apart underneath them.

The thought made her smile a little and he eased his mouth away.

“What’s so funny?”

“I hope you knew what you were doing when you tightened the screws or we might be in for an unpleasant surprise.”

His mouth lifted with a smile that left her breathless. “I wouldn’t care. I would still want to kiss you amid the rubble of a dozen chairs.”

She shivered at the intensity of his expression, the heat of him surrounding her.

“You’re cold,” he murmured.

She shook her head, though reality was beginning to push through the haze of desire.

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