Page 61 of Seductive Scoundrel

“Don’t forget the beer.”

He chuckles. “Lady, you’re one of a kind. Let me call the front desk and have them set a table up on the beach for us. What kind of beer would you like?”

“No way.”

“No way to what?” Dean asks, quirking one eyebrow. “To doing exactly what you just told me to do? No wonder they say women are a mystery.”

I roll my eyes theatrically. “We’re going to grab a blanket from the closet, and then go pick up fish and chips from that place we drove by on the way here. Beer, too – I want something light and fruity. Pairs wonderfully with greasy fish and chips.”

Laughter floats between us, and I feel stable again and not like I’m about to drown in a pool of needing him. Going out is a good idea.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Mia. You keep me on my toes.”

“Perfect,” I reply, hoping there’s an actual compliment in there because that’s how I’m taking it.

Dean gets off the bed, extending his hand towards me. “Shall we, my lady?”

* * *

“You were right,”Dean says, running his hand along my bare leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

I shift closer to him, although there’s barely any space between us already. We’re stretched out on a blanket at the far end of the resort’s beach, tucked away from other people and city noises. The only sounds are the waves lapping the shore, and the fire crackling at our feet. It’s heaven.

I press my lips against his. “Right about what?”

Dean waves the arm that isn’t underneath my head. “This. The bonfire. The fish and chips. Even that fruity beer was tolerable.”

“Tolerable, says the man who drank three.”

A laugh rumbles in the back of his throat. “Those chips were salty.”

“Sure,” I tease, loving how relaxed he is. I can literally see the stress melt away tonight – and I want that for him. For both of us.

I was right about the date, but wrong about thinking it would make me want or need him any less. Spending time with Dean in a way that I’m sure only his nearest and dearest get to do is even better than sex.

Okay, close to better than sex.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Are we playing our ‘tell me a secret’ game?” he asks with a smile.

“No, I think we’re past that now. I can ask you whatever I want whenever I want.” He laughs and the deep, rumbling sound makes my toes curl. “Why do you work so hard? I mean, it’s not like you have to, you have more money than Warren Buffet. Why don’t you just slow down and enjoy life?”

He looks into my eyes, deep into my eyes, and it feels like he’s searching for something – possibly the words to explain why he’s so driven. Or possibly for something that he’s always been missing and desperately wants with me.

“I enjoy it. I live for the rush that comes from making a deal out of nothing, from outsmarting my competition and making something big happen. It’s beyond money at this point, though that’s how it started because I didn’t grow up wealthy. It’s just…What I do. What I’ve always done since I was basically just a kid.”

His expression softens and his fingertips caress from my leg to the curve of my breast. “And maybe because I’ve never had anyone I wanted to slow down with before.”

My heart speeds up as we lay there, staring into each other’s eyes, and I do my best not to read a million different meanings into his words – because I want to.

“Spread your legs,” he commands, his eyes darkening to match the night sky. “I’m going to make you come.”

“There are people around,” I whisper, although I’m already following his orders in anticipation of the pleasure he’s going to give me.

“Good girl.”

His fingers move to the inseam of my jean shorts and slowly rub against my pussy, sending a gush of wetness into my panties.

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