Page 92 of The Best Part of Breaking Up

“I thought you said I was a forest fire,” I argue softly, wrapping my arms around his neck. “And that you wanted to make me breakfast.”

He seems to register the teasing in my eyes, and the way his gaze dips to my mouth makes my heart skip. His throat works as he swallows.

“To be fair, there are a lot of other things I want to do before that.”

“Like what?”

When he pulls me closer, I instinctively wrap my legs around him. I feel weightless in his arms. My breasts crowd against his chest as he eases my back against the cool tile edge of the pool.

“That depends. Am I still your coworker?” he asks. “Or am I here on vacation?”

I consider this – along with the water clinging to his eyelashes, the magnetic way he’s studying me, the kissable curve of his mouth, hovering close to mine. Bravery laces my veins.

“Which one wants to fuck me?” I say.

A blush burns across my cheeks, and I can’t believe I’ve said it. From the momentary flash in his eyes, he can’t either, but he doesn’t miss a beat. He smooths one of his hands up my neck, angling my mouth like he’s going to kiss me.

He doesn’t.

He drags his thumb across my bottom lip. Along my jaw. Over the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. His dark, smoky voice warms through me like embers.

“There isn’t any version of me that doesn’t want every single thing about you,” he says.

He trails a finger straight down from my shoulder, tracing the lines my bikini has left these past few weeks of pool time. His touch slides over my collarbone. Along the curve of my breast. Stopping only to trace along the low neckline of my dress. Tingles spread beneath my skin, teasing my nipples to attention.

“I want to know how you look wearing nothing but these tan lines. Are they just here?” He cups his hand around the fullness of my breast before letting the other trail up my thigh. He smooths a long line up to my hip, slipping easily under the floating fabric of my skirt, spreading his hand wide to map my curves. “Or maybe, here?”

He caresses my backside, slipping a finger beneath the edge of my underwear and humming in appreciation. I can feel his hard length pressing against me.

“Because I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about bending you over my desk, spanking this gorgeous ass of yours, and I think they’ve gotta be here.”

My eyes have gone wide with need, and I can’t drink enough of him in. This Quentin, with his lusty, late-night mouth, that looks ready to devour me.

“Would you like that, Heidi?” he asks, his voice deep and rough.

My lips part, ripe and heavy. “Yes,” I breathe.

His mouth hovers only a couple of inches from mine, and I feel desperate for him to lean in. Still, he doesn’t.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” I ask.

“Not yet,” he says. “I want to tease you, the way you’ve been teasing me.”

He slips a finger under the strap of my dress, gently allowing it to fall over my shoulder. After a moment he does the other one, tugging the wet fabric down to expose my breasts. I ache with anticipation. He runs his fingers down the tan line strap of my bikini, tracing the triangle outline where sunkissed skin meets light. He makes lazy circles around one perky pink tip before testing its sensitivity with a gentle flick. A whimper escapes me.

Oh god.

He kisses my neck, breathing across my ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

I thread my fingers into his wet hair, holding him close.

“Fuck no,” I breathe.

He kisses down the plane of my throat, across the firm swell of my breasts, sending a liquid ache through me as he trades his tongue for his fingers. He sucks one of the sensitive peaks into his mouth, taunting me until I moan. I pray the sound is lost to the wind and the waves, but honestly, I don’t care. I want him like this, with his tongue and teeth worshiping my body in a way that makes me ache to have him inside me.

“What about now?” he teases.

He bites at my nipple, caressing it with his teeth. Heat rises in my cheeks as my need for him becomes obvious.

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