Barefoot in the Sun (Barefoot Bay)(18)

Instantly he pulled her up to the surface.

“It took you fourteen seconds to get your pants off,” she sputtered.

“I had to use twelve of them to think about it.”

She blinked water out of her eyes, vaguely aware that he still wore a pair of very wet boxer briefs. She snapped the elastic band. “Just think what you’d have done with two more seconds of thought.”

“You’re wearing something.”

“For the moment. What did you think about for twelve seconds?”

“This.” He pulled her into him and she automatically slid her legs around him while he got his footing in shoulder-deep water. “Oliver Bradbury, man in command of every situation, you got your underwear wet.”

His mouth kicked up in a half smile. “I live here now. I can toss them in the dryer or go commando.”

She took a deep breath, unable to keep from sighing it out as the image of him commando settled on her brain. “Would that be comfortable? You’re a pretty well endowed man, if memory serves me.”

“It serves you.” As if to prove it, he grew a little harder and bigger against her stomach. She couldn’t help it; she pushed against his erection, letting her bikini bottom swipe against its thickness, letting out an unintentional whimper of pleasure.

“You always loved riding me like that,” he said, caressing her bare back, dragging his hand to the rise of her backside, and slipping one finger in the very top of her bikini bottom.

“What’s not to love? It’s sexy as sin.”

He slid her up and down him again. “So are you.”

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back as though she were offering her throat, but the truth was she didn’t want to see the look on his face when she told him what she had to tell him.

He took the invitation and pressed his lips onto her skin, kicking up the pulse right under his mouth.

“I have to tell you something, Oliver.”

He lifted his head. “Let me guess. You can’t swim? That’s a problem because I generally look for that in a nanny.”

“Are we still interviewing?”

Once more, he dragged her up and down the ridge of his hard-on. “You’re hired. Anything else you need to tell me?”

“ I haven’t had sex in four years.” She squeezed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to see the look on his face. After a beat, she peeked through her lashes. No shock, no laughter, just the quirk of an eyebrow.

“That’s a long time.”

“I’m really good friends with my vibrator, though.”

He choked softly. “What a waste.”

“Nah, it’s top of the line and works like a charm.”

He rocked the full length of his erection against her, making her suck in a little breath. “A charm like that?”

“Not quite that charming.” His hair was smooth and slick as she slid her fingers into the locks, holding his head right in front of her so their mouths were as lined up as the rest of them.

He pressed again, their gazes locked. “Anything your vibrator can do, Zoe Tamarin, I can do better.”

“You always were competitive. Top of the class, chief resident and all that.” She rocked against him steadily now, heat searing her whole body. “But, I paid ninety dollars for him.”

“Him?”

“Billy.”

He choked softly. “He has a name?”

“Wild Bill Hickcock.” She grinned. “But he’s not that wild.”

Laughing, he closed in for a kiss, lifting her into him and capturing her next breath in his mouth. Hot and wet and thorough, he kissed like he did everything—perfectly. A perfect annihilation of her lips sweetened by hands that slipped and dipped into private places, and the utter thrill of holding on to his strong, broad shoulders and riding his mighty hard-on.

Of course, she wanted more.

Just remembering the feeling of Oliver entering her made Zoe moan with deep, achy need.

“Better than Bill?” he murmured into the kiss.

“Bill who?”

He worked his hand up to the knot in her halter top. “Can Bill take your top off?”

“Depends on how tight the knot is.”

“Not tight enough.” He slipped the material through the knot and she felt the pressure on her neck disappear.

He peeled down the halter top to reveal her breasts, inching back to admire the view. “Too bad he can’t see this.”

“Too bad,” she agreed, bowing her back enough to offer him access, blood pounding in her head, conveniently drowning out that stupid voice that might be saying things like Stop. Or Run. Or Wow, this probably isn’t completely made of smart.

Right now there was nothing but the sound of their mutually strangled breaths, the splash of water, and the occasional groan of pure pleasure from both of them.

He eased her higher in his arms so he could suck one nipple, at the same time adding pressure between her legs, pounding a steady, maddening beat.

He lifted his head and looked at her, his face wet, his eyes almost black, his jaw clenched as he ground into her again. “Bet your f*cking Bill can’t do that.”

“No.” Her throat caught as she fought for the next breath. “He doesn’t have that setting.”

He relaxed into a smile. “Then what the hell can he do?”

“He gets me off.”

He pulled her so close no water could get between them, and pushed his hard-on against her, igniting a fire between her legs.

“Come on, Zoe, get off…right here.” He picked up the speed, never taking his eyes from hers. His gaze held a challenge, the arrogant, arresting look of a man who had power and knew exactly how to use it.

She surrendered to the first twitch that squeezed into a spasm of pleasure, heavenly sensations radiating from her core, up her stomach, down her thighs, then deep, deep inside until she lost all control, and slammed helplessly against him, spiraling into her orgasm with shamefully little effort.

“Holy hell,” she murmured, collapsing against his shoulder, her heart hammering so hard she felt the pulse in her toes.

He kissed her ear. “And no pesky batteries.”

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

Drawing back, he gave her a strange look. “You started it.”

“You finished it.”

He thrust his hard-on against her. “Not yet.”

“I…feel so easy.”

“You haven’t had sex for four years. You’re not easy. You’re…”

She put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t say desperate.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Let’s call it undernourished.”

“I’ve had opportunities.”

He ran his hands over her waist and tucked them under her backside. “I have no doubt. Every man who sees you wants this.”

The words shot a hole in her heart. “Not every man.” She slid underwater and pulled her top back up, hastily tying the straps behind her neck before emerging. “You gave me up.”

“What? Sorry, but you went underwater and came up with changed history, Zoe.”

“You would have,” she insisted. “You’d have done the right thing. You’d have married Adele. And where would that have left me?”

His jaw opened, incredulous. “Wherever the hell you fled to, Zoe. I still don’t know where you went when you vanished into thin air.”

“Very thin,” she said softly. “The Colorado mountains were my solace that year.”

“Your solace?” His voice rose enough to know she’d hit a hot button. “I didn’t have any solace, just empty promises that you’d wait and you’d talk and you’d stay.”

She almost folded in half. “Did you try to find me?”

He let out a dry, wry laugh. “You might say that.”

“What did you do?” And why did it matter so much? She didn’t know, but it mattered. A lot.

He pushed a wet lock of hair off her face, his eyes on the strand, not her. “First? I talked to the landlord, and went to the post office, but your P.O. box had been closed with no forwarding address.”

Of course it was. That was always Pasha’s last errand on the way out of town.

“I left a letter in that box anyway.”

“You did?” A longing so physical it ached like someone was in her gut twisting all of her insides. “You wrote me a letter?”

He shrugged. “I gave the prick fifty bucks, but I saw him toss the letter in the trash when I left. I wanted to tell you…” His voice faded out.

“About the baby on the way?” She waited, seeing the agony in his eyes and hating herself for putting it there. “Is that what was in the letter?”