Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(21)

Intriguing. That didn’t fit the picture she had in her mind of Logan Hawkings, responsible manager. He’d seemed a little stuffier in her mind, but that tattoo added a new angle. She wasn’t quite sure who he was, and she liked that.

Bront? moved out a bit farther in the water, feeling extremely exposed without even a swimsuit on. The water brushed against her skin with gentle, silky caresses, and the sunlight touched her everywhere. It was a unique experience, this skinny-dipping thing. She wasn’t entirely sure she liked it, though she’d gotten to see Logan’s ass, so that was a plus.

His gaze swung to her, and he began to move slowly toward her through the water. Bront? forced herself to hold her ground, instead of shying away like a nervous virgin. “Well, you’re definitely not a man who can resist a challenge,” she told him.

Logan grinned in her direction, and she sucked in a breath. The man was sexy when he was stern, but when he smiled? God. She could have sworn her girl parts had just given a squeal of delight in response.

He didn’t stop until he was right next to her. It was still only waist-deep, and if she stayed crouched down, she’d be more or less at eye level with his cock. Not exactly a power position. Of course, standing meant she’d show him her br**sts, but hadn’t he already seen them when she’d stripped down on the beach?

Bront? steeled her courage and got to her feet, water cascading off of her body. She gave him a challenging look as if daring him to say something.

But he didn’t. He only stepped closer, his somber gaze intent on her face. He reached out to her, cupped the side of her neck, and she felt him subtly draw her toward him. She was helpless to pull away, fascinated by those dark eyes, and when the tips of her br**sts brushed against his bare, wet chest, she gasped.

“For what it’s worth,” he said in a low, husky voice, “My suggestion was going to be that we swim in our underwear.”

“Oh,” she said weakly, her gaze dropping to the mouth that was mere inches away from her own. “I wasn’t sure—”

His mouth lowered on hers. She hadn’t expected to be kissed with such blatant intensity. He pulled her against him, his wet flesh brushing against hers, and she felt the long heat of his c*ck against her belly even as they kissed, letting her know exactly what he thought of the situation. Logan’s mouth was firm against her own, and he tasted sweet, like fruit. His tongue flicked against the seam of her mouth, urging her to open for him, and she was helpless to resist.

A low mew escaped her when his tongue plunged into her mouth, turning the kiss from an exploration into decadent conquering. It stroked against her own, confident, assertive, and bold.

Each thrust of his tongue told her what he’d be like in a relationship, in bed. He’d take control of her body and make her hum with desire. If she encouraged him even a little, he’d rise to the occasion. He wasn’t the type that would take no for an answer.

And she really didn’t want to say no at the moment.

He tasted so good. Even more than that, he felt good against her, sun-warmed and wet and hard. The waves caressed at their waists while Logan continued to kiss her as if nothing else in the world mattered, and her toes curled in response, desire surging deep inside her.

All he’d done was kiss her, but she felt keenly aware of every bit of his skin pressing against her own: her n**ples brushing against the fine hairs of his chest, the press of his c*ck at her belly, his fingers on her neck as he held her close, his thumb stroking her jaw. His lips caressing her own. His tongue thrusting wickedly, as if suggesting much more than just a kiss.

After what seemed like an eternity, Logan pulled away, and Bront? staggered, her knees suddenly weak and useless. His hand went to her elbow to steady her, and he pulled her body against his.

She gazed down at his biceps, at the mysterious tattoo. It was . . . well, it was rather hideous. The circular blob turned out to be a skull with a twisted two-dollar bill sticking out of the eye sockets. That was not what she’d expected to see on someone like Logan.

He leaned in for one more soft kiss, his tongue grazing her lips and distracting her from her study of his tattoo. “Was that what you wanted?”

That was a rather arrogant question. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus her mind. “I wasn’t sure what I wanted until just now, actually.”

“And now?”

“Now I think I’m rather glad we’re alone on the beach,” she told him breathlessly.

He grinned, his expression confident and self-assured, and leaned in for another kiss.

Just then, a wave rose up. It slapped the two of them sideways, splashing them in the face and covering them with tendrils of seaweed.

They sputtered, breaking apart, and Bront? was hit with a fit of giggles as Logan pulled a handful of seaweed off his shoulder and flung it away from him in disgust. Logan looked over at her with a sour expression. “More nervous laughter?”

“No, this time I’m totally laughing at you,” she said, and yelped when he leapt to dunk her.

The spell was broken, and they started splashing each other and riding the waves, or simply floating in the water. It was nice to just play and relax, and even when she dunked Logan, it didn’t turn sexual again.

It was as if a question had been answered, and now Logan was content to wait for the right moment. Which made her feel a bit like prey being stalked by a predator. A very masculine, sexy predator that she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to escape. She rather liked being his prey, and what did that say about her?