Page 52 of Catch You

“Uh … yeah, actually.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to reconsider. Things can be much more fun when you break them.”

“You’d better show me, then.”

He glances over, mischief dancing in his eyes, and a wave of desire hits me.

He pulls the camper to a stop on a secluded bit of the beach. The few people we could see when we first arrived are no longer visible, making it seem like we’re the only ones here. It’s a heady thought, knowing that we’re totally alone once again.

“Do you want to eat inside or out?”

I glance over my shoulder at the stunning old-fashioned fittings, but as tempting as they are, I want to watch the sun make its final descent for the day.

“Outside. Definitely outside.”

“Come on, then.”

He hops out of the camper before coming around for me, but my feet are already heading for the sand below.

His need to help must get the better of him, because he steps forward and wraps his arm around my waist. Our chests crash together, his hard lines against my soft curves, and I just about manage to swallow the groan of pleasure that threatens to rumble up my throat at his contact.

Slowly, he lowers me until my feet hit the ground.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he whispers, his deep voice hitting right between my legs.

“Oh, and here I was, thinking you’d forgotten.”

“Never. You’re all I’ve been able to think about.” To make his point, he presses his already hard length against me.

“Oh,” falls from my lips, but it’s no more than a breathy whisper.

“Every time I look at my chair, I see you laid out on it in your underwear. I’m pretty sure the guys I’ve seen this week all think I’m gay.”

I can’t help but bark out a laugh. “Whatever turns you on, Brit boy.”

His hand slips around the back of my neck as he drops his head slightly. Desire pulls at my lower stomach, and I lick my lips in preparation for what I hope is going to come.

“You, Lo. Only you.” His lips brush mine, as my stomach flutters with the way he says that nickname, but he doesn’t give me what I need.

When I give in to temptation and move toward him, he pulls back, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“We should eat.”

He takes a huge step away as I fall back against the van, trying to catch my breath, and drag my head from the clouds.

I stand, feeling a little lost as he grabs a few things from the back of the camper and places them down on the sand.

“Help me with this,” he says, holding a blanket out toward me.

I grab one corner, and together we shake it out and set up our picnic. He places a wicker basket in the center before throwing a couple of cushions down and re-emerging from the camper with a chilled bottle of wine.

He passes it over, and the label makes my heart race. I feel ridiculous that the sight of a bottle of wine can affect me, but I can’t help it.

“D-do you have anything else to drink?” I ask, wishing I could just suck it up and enjoy it.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot you don’t drink it.”

“I-It’s not that. It just reminds me of my parents.” My cheeks flush, feeling ridiculous.

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