Page 290 of Rock Me All Night
He pulls off his t-shirt, kicks off his shoes, and slides out of his jeans.
He's wearing a low-rise Speedo.
I fucking love it.
His eyes find mine. "What do you think?"
"I'm not sure. I can't see your ass."
He smiles and spins as if modeling for me. "Guess fair is fair. I got my show, now it's your turn."
"You call this a show?"
"I have a strip tease planned to "Hot For Teacher but that's not until you get your credential."
My cheeks flush. That's quite the motivation.
"You brought the polka dot bikini?"
His tongue slides over his lips. In a flash he grabs it from the bag. "Yes, Ma'am."
His eyes stay on me as I strip out of my clothes. T-shirt, shoes, socks, jeans, underwear, bra. It's just me, standing in a cabana in Malibu, naked in front of him.
He looks at me like it's the first time he's seen me naked.
I take the bikini from his hands and slide it on.
"You look fucking amazing." He groans.
"You have sunscreen?"
He grabs a tube and takes his sweet, sweet time applying it to my chest, stomach, quads. Study has kept me busy. It's been days since he's touched me properly.
I turn so he can get my back. His hands graze the top of my bikini bottoms them dip inside them. God yes.
His fingers trail up my back. "Your turn."
I take the sunscreen from Drew and apply it to every inch of exposed skin on his body—his muscular thighs, his ripped torso, his strong shoulders. I finish at his face, rubbing lotion into his cheeks and nose.
He leans down and kisses me hard. "You as desperate as I am?"
I nod. It's a good distraction.
I pull open the curtain and step into the backyard. The sun beats down on the concrete. It's bright. I look down at my thighs and trace my scars. No one is here right now. What if that changes? What if an MTV tour bus shows up the second we get in the water?
Drew's expression is soft, caring. "You ready?"
I nod. Ready as I'll ever be.
We leave the security of the backyard.
The sand is warm and rough between my toes. It's been years since I've been on a beach. I've lived in Los Angeles four years and I've avoided the beach for every one of them.
It's about five hundred feet to the water. Still just us. We're still alone. I focus on the dark blue hue of the ocean. The way the salt and sunscreen mix into a familiar smell. The feel of the sun and the breeze on my bare skin.
Wet sand smooshes under my feet. A wave crashes and breaks. Water splashes my feet. It's cold.
I didn't come this far to back out now. I wade to my waist.
