Say You Still Love Me(78)

I open my eyes, wondering if his are as full of lust as mine must be.

That’s when I notice the teal string floating atop the water behind him.

“My top!” I frown a second before realization hits me. My mouth drops open as I reach behind him, to find that he secured it through one of his belt loops. “Kyle!”

With an impish grin, he slips from my grasp and takes off swimming toward the alcove. I chase after him, yelling his name. It’s in vain, though; he’s much too fast for me.

When I round the corner, I find him sitting on the rocky plateau, leaning back and propped up by his elbows as if basking in the sun, his legs dangling over the edge.

He grins at me, holding out my top. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

I yank it from his grasp and attempt to put it back on, quickly abandoning the idea. It’s too hard while treading water.

Kyle smirks, like he knows it. “I won’t look. Promise.” He rolls over to lie on his stomach, facing away from me.

I hoist myself onto the ledge. The rock is almost too hot to the touch. It would be a nice place to relax and rid myself of these hideous T-shirt tan lines. A nice, quiet, private place to linger that can’t be seen from the expanse of lake.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” He reaches for a loose stone nearby, to twirl it within his grasp.

“No,” I admit. I enjoyed every second of that moment when he was touching me so intimately.

In truth, I wish it hadn’t ended.

“Tell me when you’re good.” He has kept his word, his gaze still on the crop of bushes beyond.

A rash of butterflies explodes in my stomach as I commit myself to my decision. Splashing the hot-to-the-touch rock with handfuls of water to cool it down, I stretch out onto my back and shield my eyes against the blinding sun, leaving my top resting next to my head. “Okay.”

With a sigh, he moves to roll back. “I was thinking we should—” His words cut off, his mouth falling agape as it skates over my near-naked body.

“I have these horrible tan lines that I need to get rid of,” I explain casually, closing my eyes and settling my arm down beside me.

Kyle clears his throat. “Right.”

I can feel his heavy gaze touching my body, and each second that passes makes me crave for his hands to be on me again.

“Did you put on sunscreen?”

Shit. I groan. “No. And my bottle is all the way up—”

“I’ll get it.”

“You don’t have . . .” My voice trails. He’s already on his feet, nimbly picking his path up the treacherous hill.

I’m going to need Kyle’s help coating my back, I think with a smile, imagining his hands smoothing all over my body, along every inch of exposed skin.

By the time the loud splash sounds a few minutes later—Kyle, leaping off the cliff again—my body is aching with need.

Kyle swims around the bend and pulls himself back onto the rock, my tube of sunscreen firmly gripped in his hand. Droplets of water land on my skin as he shifts closer to me. “Here, roll over,” he murmurs as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes skittering over my chest and stomach.

I do, carefully, so as not to scrape my skin against the jagged edges of rock, and rest my chin atop folded arms, silently reveling in the feel of the cool gobs of sunscreen landing on my back.

“You sure ran up the hill fast.” His first touch draws a small gasp from my lips.

“Yeah, I guess I just really wanted to jump again.”

I smile to myself. “Right. Jump.”

He chuckles softly.

We fall into a comfortable silence as his hands smooth over my shoulders and down my sides in long, languid strokes, until my entire back is covered. Only he doesn’t stop there. He squeezes another dollop onto the back of each thigh and covers the full length of my legs, all the way from my ankles to the edge of my bikini bottoms, his fingertips sliding down over my inner thighs, teasing me, never venturing where I want them to, making the mild ache between my legs morph into a needy throb.

“Your back is done,” he announces, his voice low and gravelly.

“Do you mind doing the rest?” I roll over, squinting against the sun as I peer up to admire his stunning features.

He licks his lips as his eyes trail the length of my body. Finally he shakes his head and wordlessly squeezes a glob onto my belly button.

I suck in my stomach from the chill, and he chuckles. He begins smoothing the sunscreen over my abdomen, his strokes even slower than before, his face taking on an odd, somber expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all. You’re just . . . perfect,” he murmurs, shifting his hand upward, over my breasts, his palm cupping each one, the soft pad of his thumb circling over my nipples a few times. “I still can’t believe you’re here with me. I’m the luckiest guy in the world right now.”

I reach out to drag my fingers against his thigh. “I’m the lucky one.”

“You have no clue . . .” He shakes his head as he shifts his focus, stretching to reach my ankles before moving all the way up each leg, his hands firm and confident. And, once again, he teases me mercilessly, his fingers sliding provocatively as he coats my inner thighs.

I shift my legs apart, just enough that he’ll hopefully take the hint.