Page 144 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

“Absolutely not,” he said, and I felt him harden against my stomach. He looked down at me with the sexiest smile I’d ever seen, a sparkle in his eye. “Are you?”

I shook my head.

He turned off the water, picked me up, and carried me to bed, neither of us caring that we were wet.

We both acted like horny teenagers. I didn’t realize how much fun sex could be.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Friendship is a combination of art and craft. The craft part is in knowing how to give and how to take. The art part is in knowing when, and the whole process only works when no one is keeping track.”

—E. L. Konigsburg,The Mysterious Edge of the Heroic World

My alarm went off at six. I groaned, then quickly shut it off for fear of waking Jason.

I rolled over, but my hand hit warm, damp sheets.

I turned on the light, and Jason wasn’t there. Instead, there was a note on the nightstand.

Far from worrying it was a Dear Jane letter, I smiled. After last night, there was no doubt something special was brewing between us.

I opened the paper.

Darling Mia ~

There is nothing I want to do today except stay in bed with you. Or the shower. Or take a walk to our lagoon and make love to you under the moon tonight.

But duty calls, and it’s all hands to clean up after the storm.

Please stay the extra three days. I’ll move heaven andearth to make sure you have a place to work if you need it, but I don’t want to give you up at night. There’s a lot I want to tell you, things I want to share with you that I’ve never wanted to share with anyone else. Stay.

Love, Jason

I ran my finger overLove, Jasonand smiled. Was I falling in love? Or was this just residual joy from a night of wild sex? Isn’t that what my goal was, to have mindless sex with a hot guy, then go back home, accept the promotion, and continue a normal, steady life?

Except... sex with Jason wasn’t mindless. It was mind-blowing. I didn’t have one-night stands. I always went into relationships with the idea that the guy wasthe one, that the good outweighed the bad. And always, I was disappointed—especially in bed.

I’d had more orgasms with Jason in two days than I’d had in the last two years. I didn’t know if that was a testament to my own lack of sexual prowess or to the lack of skill of those I’d dated.

Maybe there was more to sex than inserting A into B. I was attracted to Jason, physically and intellectually. I don’t know why that surprised me—just because he was a bartender didn’t mean he couldn’t be smart. Jason was not only intelligent, he was also thoughtful, contemplative, philosophical. I wanted to listen to him, talk to him, have meaningful conversations about life.

And yes, have sex with him as often as physically possible.

Maybe this was love, because I had never felt this strongly for any of the men I’d been involved with—after five days or five months.

I wandered into the bathroom, startled at what a mess I was. My hair, which I hadn’t dried last night, was tangled and flat on one side. I had a faint red mark on my breast from when Jason had nipped me, and a bruise on my arm where I’d accidentally banged it on the nightstand when I reached for my phone to look up what a reverse cowgirl was—I’d read about it in severalbooks and decided we should try it, but I wanted to do it right. I didn’t realize there were a lot of right—and wrong—ways to do it. But I think we had our most powerful joint orgasm when we got it absolutely right.

After, we slept spooned together for an hour before I woke to Jason hard against me.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he had said, and kissed me. “I have one condom left.”

He rolled on top of me, and we made love slowly, gently, because all our fun and games had left me sore. He knew how to be tender, and somehow, those touches, those kisses, light and urgent at the same time, told me everything I needed to know about Jason—and me—and what we might have together.

I took a quick shower mostly so I could do something with my hair. I didn’t think I would be able to shower again in this room without thinking about Jason and me against the wall.

I was drying my hair in a blissfully hazy state when there was pounding on my door.

I opened it to Brie. “You said six thirty!” She walked in. One look at the bed and she said, “Ohmigod, he’s not still here, is he?”