Page 26 of Good Girl's Bad Lessons

Sure, her brother Zaine was rich, but she’d never allow him to pay for her wedding.

“Well, our good deed for the day is done,” she said, clapping her hands. “If you want to go back to the hotel to take care of whatever business you need, that’s totally fine. I’ll stay and soak in some vitamin D and add to my collection of freckles,” she said, trying really hard to sound enthused about exploring this gorgeous beach by herself.

He looked deep into her eyes, the specks of gold shimmering around his irises. Whenever this happened, she almost stood on her tiptoes to bask in more of the energy zinging between them. It was like his eyes wanted to send her a message even if he never would.

Or maybe I should stop watching all those B movies on Netflix.

“Emma,” he said, his deep voice reverberating inside her and making her painfully aware of his male presence. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t want to go without you.”

“Afraid I’ll get lost?”

“Afraid I’ll get lost.”

He pulled her into a tight hug, and she melted in his arms, loving the sensation of warmth and security he offered. Her heart throbbed in her ears, her mind sending her all kinds of alarm signals. This type of display of affection certainly meant nothing. Then why did he hug her like she meant everything? Because he made her feel like everything. Certainly, this was all part of a lesson. She rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the sound of the waves washing onto the shore and the gentle sway of the palm fronds. He kissed the top of her head and clenched her tighter against him, every part of her pressed against his strength.

He created a circular invisible pattern on her back, giving her a massage. She heard his heart beat, and it raced against his chest, making her wonder why he was so freaking agitated when externally, he seemed peaceful.

A groan filled the air, and his cock literally rose to the occasion, poking her through the flimsy fabric of her cover-up. She’d chosen a bikini she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing in the United States, because well, it emphasized her hips and showed much of what she preferred to hide. But hell, no one knew her on the island, so she’d been daring.

She withdrew from him, placing her hands on his chest. “What lesson is this one?”

A flicker of surprise gleamed in his eyes. “Never underestimate the power of making love on sandy beaches.”

Make love. He’d never used the expression before, but she refused to overthink. The lessons made it okay to want him so much and to feel good about it—the lessons would bring her one step closer to being with a guy who wanted the same things she did. Simon.

“Here?” she said, scanning around them. The few people she spotted walked away from them, distant like ants on a hill. A current of excitement moved through her.

“Come with me.” He held her hand in his, and pulled her farther down the beach. She barely had time to register the breathtaking scenery as he walked briskly, and she had to keep up with his pace and long legs.

When they reached an area with smaller pools of water and more rocks, he let her go, and tossed the backpack on the sand. She caught a whiff of the ocean air and touched the hem of her cover-up dress.

“Take it off, Emma,” he said.

He removed his shirt and placed it on top of the backpack. Easy for him to say. The man could moonlight as a personal trainer, body builder, and movie star all rolled into one.

She chewed her lip, clutching the hem with white-knuckle intensity. In her head, it’d been so much easier to strip herself of insecurities and go with the flow. In reality, sweat slicked her forehead, and her palms got clammy. He’d never seen her so exposed in such a bright environment. What if he bolted?

He’d almost bolted earlier. Her stomach sank to the ground, and she drew in a breath.

“What is it?” he asked, annoyed.

“Er, sunlight isn’t that flattering. I mean, it’s super bright. What if we go into the ocean and I remove my clothes there?” He had to agree. When they’d screwed in the club, in the car, in his plane, and heck, in the hotel the previous night, the lighting had been on her side. Now? Not so much.

He took a step back, his brows furrowing. “Who made you believe this?”

“Society. TV shows.” She rolled her eyes. Ah, might as well be honest. “My sister, Megan.”

“Ah. Why’s that? I thought you got along great with your siblings.”

“I do. It’s just she’s naturally slimmer and with narrow hips. A bit taller than me, too. So, growing up I always felt like the one with the fat ass. I understand curvy figures are more acceptable nowadays than when I was a teen, but still—”

She never finished her train of thought. He snatched her into his arms, cupping her head so he had quick, direct access to her lips. She gasped, surprised and utterly excited. He captured her lips with his in a scorching, soul-searching kiss that knotted her insides, only to unknot them and knot them tighter again. She linked her arms around him, thrusting her fingers into his silky hair.

He grabbed one of her hands and slid it down his body until she touched his cock.

She quivered.

When he stopped the kiss, they breathed with difficulty. “I’m hard for you, for your body, your curves, your ass. Do you understand?”

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