Page 11 of Charm

“Oh, no!” My hand jumps in the air to ward off what I know he’s about to say. “I’m not looking for anything either other than some weekend fun. I don’t want to overstep a line drawn by someone else. That’s all.”

“A line drawn by another woman?” he questions. “If you’re asking if I’m married or involved, I’m not. I’m happily divorced.”

“Me too,” I blurt out without taking a second to consider whether I want to share that with him.

His gaze drops to my bikini top. “Your ex-husband is an idiot of the highest caliber.”

Biting the corner of my bottom lip, I nod. “You have no idea.”

I could say the same to him about his ex-wife, but I don’t know what tore them apart. I don’t want to know. Dealing with my divorce has caused me enough misery to last a lifetime.

“We’re both available, so let’s take advantage of it.” He motions toward the wine bottle. “If I don’t open this soon, so we can savor the taste, I’ll be tempted to pass it over to taste you.”

“Who needs wine?” I tease.

“Not me,” he says, but there’s not a hint of amusement in his tone. “If you’re willing to let me dive right in, I’m more than ready.”

“Dive right in?” I question because I want to hear him say the words.

“I’ll spell it out for you.” He moves toward the large dining table to set the bottle down. “I’m going to strip that bikini off of you in the next ten seconds and dive between your legs because I’ve been craving you since I first saw you.”

To accentuate the point, he slides two foil packages from his pocket and tosses them onto the table near the wine bottle. “We’ll need these later. For now, I want you to come on my tongue.”

His words echo through me as I glance at the condom packages. This is happening. I’m about to give myself to a complete stranger. That’s something I never thought I’d do, but yet, in this moment, it’s the only thing I want to do.

“I want that, too,” I whisper so softly that it’s barely audible.

I know he hears it because a slow smile glides over his lips. “Let’s start with a kiss.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Greer

Joe’s handsjump to my face. The touch of his skin against mine is electric. Heat ignites deep within me, coursing through my veins. I feel as though I’m lit up, aching for more, and we haven’t even started our exploration of one another yet.

His gaze pierces me. He looks into my eyes as though he’s searching for a secret I’ll only share with him.

“You want me,” he states. It’s not a question because there isn’t one to ask. My body is aching for him. I know he can sense it.

“More than you know,” I whisper because it’s the truth.

Everything about him screams sheet-clawing sex. It’s the type of sex I’ve never had but always longed for.

I’ve settled when it comes to intimacy. I know that now. The hunger in his gaze is telling me I’ve missed out on something I’m on the precipice of experiencing.

Never in a million years did I think I’d end up in bed with a handsome stranger this weekend, but I know if I don’t take this leap, regret will haunt me for the rest of my life.

With a brush of his thumb over my bottom lip, he finally lowers his mouth to mine.

The kiss is gentle at first. It’s soft and speaks of how tender he can be, but it shifts quickly. The aggression in it is matched by the movement of his hand as it drops to my shoulder and then beyond.

He traces a path with his tongue over my bottom lip as his fingers do the same on their journey to my bikini top. He slides the material aside so he can circle my nipple with the faintest touch before he pinches it.

That draws a gasp from me. “Ouch.”

“It felt good,” he whispers because he knows. “You liked it.”

“So much,” I confess with a purr, my hands dropping to the bare skin of his waist. “More.”

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