Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(23)

As he turned away, she blushed hard, because that sounded incredibly dirty to her own ears. Do you have a stick for my marshmallow? My God, why don’t I just ask him to throw me down on the beach and harpoon me like he’s Ahab and I’m a sexy, sexy whale?

They speared two marshmallows on the same stick, and Logan thrust them into the flames of the fire. “So you’re one of those men, are you?” Bront? teased.

He glanced back at her. “One of what men?”

She gestured at the now-flaming marshmallows. “You’re willing to eat a little charcoal as long as it gets done faster.”

“Collateral damage,” he told her. “One expects that sort of thing when making a bold decision.”

“Very bold,” she said with a nod. “Could you blow out one of those bold decisions and put it on my cracker so I can eat?”

He did, and she smooshed it with the chocolate, licking her fingers as she nibbled at the treat. He pushed his together and then popped the entire thing in his mouth, eating it in one large bite. The man didn’t do anything by halves, did he? She shook her head at him, grinning, and continued to nibble away at hers.

A large dollop of melted chocolate landed on her thumb. She regarded it for a moment and then lifted her hand, intent on licking it clean.

Logan’s hand caught hers before she could, and he moved her hand to his mouth and very gently sucked the chocolate off of her thumb. A low flutter started in her belly, and her pulse began to pound as his dark gaze shifted to her face.

“Speaking of bold decisions,” he murmured, and then ran his tongue along the pad of her thumb again. “Have you decided?”

“Decided?” she echoed, hating the quaver in her voice.

“You and I keep dancing around our attraction without ever really coming out and saying exactly what we’re thinking. I’m not like that, Bront?. I’m the kind of guy that wants to let you know exactly how I feel, but you keep running away.”

“I’m not running,” she protested, feeling breathless. “Tell me.”

“I’ll show you, then.” His gaze was intense as he watched her, and then it slid to her mouth, and she knew he was thinking about their kiss.

And now she was thinking about that kiss, too.

He leaned in and ever-so-lightly brushed his lips against hers. The movement was delicate but intense, a mere hint at what she could expect from him. And she wanted more, but he moved away and looked down at her, studying her face.

Logan spoke again. “It’s your move, Bront?.”

She stared at her hand captured in his. Shadows caressed his face, the breeze causing his hair to ruffle over his forehead, and she noticed the heavy beard stubble along his jaw. It had rasped against her skin as they’d kissed, but not hard enough to make her pull away. She could reach out and touch him right now if she wanted. Claim him. Or she could walk away from all of this and they’d just be friends. Camping companions. He was leaving it up to her.

She had no illusions as to what this was—they were alone on the beach. They were spending copious amounts of nak*d time together. He was handsome, and he must have thought her attractive. They could have wild, passionate sex for a night or two, or however long it took for them to be rescued. Then they’d part ways and she’d go back to work in Kansas City and he’d go back to work managing the hotel and their paths would never cross again.

It was the perfect situation for a no-strings fling. Except Bront? wasn’t good at the no-strings thing. That was for strangers, for people she would run into and never see after that night. Logan was different. She already knew a lot more about him than she did a lot of people. She liked him. Not that she normally didn’t like guys, but most of her relationships seemed to end on an ugly note, and she didn’t want that to happen with Logan. But if she turned him down, she’d never get the chance to experience just how wonderful making love to Logan might be.

“I want this,” she admitted in a soft voice, “but I don’t know how good I am at casual relationships.”

“We can worry about that once we’re rescued,” he told her, and leaned in to close the distance between them.

***

She was going to do this. They were going to do this. She was going to have a ridiculous, exciting, passionate fling with a man. Not just any man. Gorgeous, serious, totally alpha Logan Hawkings, who made her toes curl every time she looked at him. Who kissed like he’d invented it.

And here she was, in an ugly tourist T-shirt, with wild beach hair and not a touch of makeup. Maybe it wasn’t Bront? as much as it was that she was the only woman on the island? That was a sobering thought.

He touched his fingertips to her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Should I not have asked?”

“No, asking is good,” she said, and gave him a shy smile. “I’m just not exactly at my hottest at the moment.”

“Quote me something.”

She gave him an odd look and then laughed, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “‘Happiness depends upon ourselves.’ Aristotle.”

“See?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss at her neck. “Hearing you say that is so incredibly hot.”

She laughed again. “You’re a strange man.”

“And you’re beautiful,” he said bluntly. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you all day.”