Page 47 of One Week in Paradise
‘Ready?’
I nod and let Cash guide me into the ocean. The water washes over me, and I feel weightless. Free. Like nothing else in the world matters outside of this moment.
We walk until the water hits my knees. ‘That’s as far as I go.’
‘We can go further,’ Cash says. He glances back at me and shoots me a devilish grin. ‘What if I carry you?’
Before I can counter, he twists slightly so he’s standing in front of me. ‘Just hold on to me,’ he murmurs.
That sense of complete and utter safety washes over me again, and I do as he says. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling my body flush against his.
Something flickers in his eyes, and they darken ever so slightly. His hands ghost down the length of my body, stopping at my butt. Then he hoists me up, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist.
The gentle waves crash against us as we stand there, staring at each other.
I can feel his heartbeat and time my breathing to each slow thud. The sound of the waves crashing around us dulls to a low murmur, and all I can hear is his heartbeat thudding against my chest.
He takes a step backwards, and I cling to him a little tighter.
‘Don’t choke me,’ he croaks.
‘Don’t drop me,’ I counter.
‘I’d never,’ he says, voice dripping with sincerity. ‘You’re safe with me, Bailey. I promise.’
I squeeze him again. Not because I’m afraid he’ll drop me and I’ll plunge to my watery doom, but because I can’t get close enough. The water is cold, but my skin is scorching, and I know his feels the same.
We stare into each other’s eyes. I don’t think we’ve ever beenthisclose before. We’re so close I can count the tiny constellation of freckles that pattern his jawline.
I wonder what he sees as he’s looking at me. His grey-green eyes are hazy, almost drunk, as if he’s drinking me in and can’t get enough.
The thought sends shockwaves of desire shooting through me.
‘God, Bailey,’ he mutters, his voice lower than I’ve ever heard it. ‘You’re beautiful.’
And then he’s kissing me.
My heart swells, but I have no time to react as his lips find purchase against mine. Something about this – his lips slidingagainst mine – feels natural, feelsright, like it’s something we should’ve been doing for years.
There’s no force behind this kiss. It’s gentle. Almost hesitant. Like he’s giving me the opportunity to pull away and act like this never happened.
I do no such thing.
I angle my head downwards slightly, pressing my lips firmly against his, giving him the go-ahead. I canfeelhis hum of approval in my throat as his hands tighten around my ass and squeeze, pulling me even closer still.
I never want this to end. I move my lips against his, greedily taking in as much as I can before we need to come up for air.
‘I’ve wanted to do that forso long,’ he murmurs, his voice still a low groan.
‘Me too,’ I admit.
I pull him in for another kiss. This one is different from the first. The apprehension he began with is gone, replaced with a fiery desire. His fingers dig into my cheeks as he pulls me closer until there’s not a millimetre of space between us. I moan and rock into him, and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. We develop an easy rhythm, our tongues sliding against the other as we claw at each other in the middle of the ocean.
He pulls away from me for half a second, and themewlthat comes out of my mouth is desperate and whiny. I don’twant him to stop. I lean forward, peppering his neck with tiny kisses, and he groans low in his throat.
I feel like I’m drowning in him, and I’m perfectly okay with that.
‘Fuck,’ he groans.
