Page 86 of Beneath the Blindfold

Except he always had my attention.

During the drive last night to the villa, I’d figured this week with my “friend” was going to be hard. Then, this morning he’d come out onto the balcony for breakfast in board shorts and no shirt. I knew he was in good shape. Driving a race car took stamina and strength. But seeing the results of his training and how he had those ridges of muscle along his ribs made me swallow hard.

This week was going to be torture.

Each minute around him felt dangerous. I was going to slip up and do something stupid, like flirt with him. Or find an excuse to run my fingers down his chest. Or tell him I’d had two sessions with my vibrator to take the edge off and it hadn’t helped.

I came while I was thinking about you.That wasn’t something friends told each other.

He was nearby, his face in the water with his yellow snorkel sticking up, and it gave me a moment to ogle him. But he must have sensed my look because his head popped up. He peeled off his mask and gave me a smile. God, he was cute even with the indentation line from his mask around his eyes.

Oh, crap. Did I have those marks? I got my feet under me, shifted my snorkel and mask into my other hand, and ran my fingers over my face.

“Taking a break?” he asked.

“I think I’m going to head in. One of my fins was pinching my foot.”

He swam beside me until it was shallow enough to stand. Water coasted down his chest as we plodded up the sandy shore, dotted with black rocks. My head snapped forward, and my cheeks burned when he caught me looking at him.

I dropped my gear by our towels, but before I could bend down to grab one, Jamie scooped both up and held mine out. I hated how he was funny, and smart, and insanely hot...andhe had manners. It was totally unfair.

There were other villas we shared this beach with, but we were the only guests out right now. A few yachts were moored at the end of the bay, bobbing in the gentle waves. “This place is amazing,” I said as we began to towel off. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah. It is.” His voice was weird.

I glanced over at him and swallowed a breath. He wasn’t looking at the ocean or the jungle-covered mountains. His gaze lingered on me, tracing the lines of my teal-colored halter top, over my bare stomach, and down to my matching bikini bottoms. He wasn’t looking at me the way friends looked at each other. This stare was intense and sexual.

And then he blinked, and the expression drained away, as if he hadn’t meant to do it.

A nervous, excited thrill shot through me. If seeing me in a bikini was what it took for him to have interest, I was cool with wearing it and nothing else the rest of the week. I smiled up at him as I bent over to dry my legs, and—

“Motherfucker,” I hissed. Stinging pain snapped across the back of my heel.

His expression flooded with concern. “What’s wrong?”

I tossed my towel onto the sand and sat so I could lift my leg and see the back of my ankle. The small blister was white, ringed with angry red. Jamie knelt beside me, and as I pointed to the spot, his fingers closed around my calf, holding me still so he could examine it better.

With his touch, the pain shifted and changed. It became a dull throb, centered deep between my legs.

“Damn,” he said.

Yes, damn was right.His touch was electric.

He set my foot down on the sand, and his fingers slid slowly away. His blue eyes matched the color of the ocean we’d just come from, and I watched a water droplet skate down his neck and run through the valley between his pecs. His touch and proximity had disarmed me. It made everything hazy and confusing.

Jamie was staring at me, waiting for an answer. He’d said something, but I’d been too focused on the lucky water droplet to hear him.

“Sorry, what?” I asked.

“You need me to get you something?”

I shook my head. “Thanks, but I don’t think there’s anything that’ll help. It’s just a blister.”

“I dunno, a beer might help.”

I grinned. “Yeah, but it’s not even lunchtime.”

“Maybe not for you, but I’m starving.” He wiped a hand over his mouth and sat back on his haunches. “Want me to make lunch?”

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