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Blake laughed and, with one firm hand, pulled the edge of my sun-kissed shoulder so that I rolled toward him. He gathered the scraps of bikini fabric clinging to my skin, letting his fingers brush across the pink flesh of my breasts, and tossed the top over our heads.

I’d never felt so beautifully exposed before.

I gasped as his mouth found mine. His lips were firm and urgent, but I could feel the want and longing lingering between us. Playful teasing turned hot the instant he bit down on my bottom lip, just enough to make me catch my breath.

I yielded to his tongue and tugged him down against my breasts. His skin was hot from the sun, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders, as if that would keep me from spiraling out of control. Yes, I wanted this, but I hadn’t thought it through. Everything felt too good to stop. I could taste the salt on his neck as my lips grazed over his shoulder and worked up toward his ear.

Arching toward him, I drank in the feeling of his rough hands exploring the inches of my exposed skin. Gradually, his lips trailed down the line of my neck until he was hovering over my breasts, casting a shadow on the creamy skin that only a few minutes ago had been covered in a bright pink bikini top.

He stopped, and for a second, I worried something was wrong. I watched him, his eyes raked over me, taking in the curves of my body, my golden hair splayed all around the beach blanket, the rhythmic motion of my chest breathing in and out, and my eyes. I wanted him. I hoped he could see it. Everything happening between us right now felt hot, intense, and like we were in the same place, for the first time in eight years.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Sierra.”

He reached for my hands and brought them over my head, nestling them in the sunbaked sand off the edge of the blanket. I lightly pulled against his grip, wiggling closer to him, but steadily resisted the urge to struggle against his control.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

I nodded.

His teeth grazed my neck then returned to my breasts. I cried out when his teeth pulled my nipple between them. He bit down, sending an exquisite pressure pulsing through my body.

“Oh God,” I moaned.

It only made him suck and bite harder. My hips jerked involuntarily and I felt the wetness between my legs.

My back arched so that our bodies were locked together, separated by only a tiny bikini bottom and a pair of swimming trunks. I smiled. I could feel exactly what I was doing to him. His cock was solid and long.

He groaned.

“I think I’m going to have to fuck you right here. Sex on the beach?”

I nodded. “I want you too.” I breathed, knowing I was making a mistake, but I couldn

’t stop myself.

I wiggled enough so he could pull the strings on the side of my bikini. He tossed the scrap of fabric out of his way.

I didn’t care about the sun beating down on us, or the sand all around. My body was gliding against his. His hands were all over me. His tongue in an out of my mouth. Covering my nipples. Gliding over my stomach.

“Fuck,” he growled, pushing my legs wide.

“Ohh,” I whimpered. My head turned to the sound and that’s when I saw it.

The tide.

It was coming in, but I was too late.

Before we had a chance to move out of the ripping current’s path, we were both soaked by the unexpected wave. Startled I scrambled for my bikini as it drifted past me before the surf took it out to sea.

“Shit,” he murmured as we both leapt forward to save what was left of our beach site.

He cleared his throat and reached for the drenched blanket and the sunscreen. Stuffing them in the bag, he turned toward me. I was busy refastening my suit.

“Why don’t we find another beach? It looks like this one is going to wash away soon. I’ll load this stuff on the boat and we can find another spot.”

“No.” I snatched the blanket out of the bag and tried to wring some of the water out of it. “I think we should go back.”

I was instantly sorry I had snapped at Blake, but the shock of the wave seemed to whip me back into reality and back into control of my hormones. I had almost had sex on the beach. In broad daylight like an irresponsible eighteen-year-old girl. What in holy hell was wrong with me?