Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(72)



“Thank you.” She whispered the words a breath away from his mouth before sealing her lips over his.

He groaned, deepening their kiss.

His tongue brushed hers. Once. Twice. A tangle and caress ripe with the heady taste of saltwater and him that made her head woozy, her body pounding for more than kisses and underwater caresses.

She gasped, overwhelmed by the rush of desire. Luis dragged his mouth down her jaw, her neck. She tilted her head to the side, murmuring her pleasure.

“Co?o, I want you so bad,” he rasped.

He licked that sensitive spot behind her ear, and she bucked into him again.

“What if we skipped the rest of the bike tour?” she murmured.

Luis froze, his breath warm on her ear.

Arching back, she glanced up at him. Her pulse pounded in her ears, a bass drum throbbing an insistent, carnal beat.

He removed his sunglasses, holding them loosely on the water’s surface. They bumped against her shoulder where his thumb brushed tiny circles on her suddenly hypersensitive skin. He stared at her, his serious gaze boring into hers.

“We have the house to ourselves for a few more hours,” she went on, making her intent clear.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

The fact that he would ask, even after her invitation, was further evidence of the height he reached on her good-guy meter.

Unhooking her legs from around his waist, she stood on wobbly legs. Her feet sank in the ocean’s sandy bottom. She caught his hands in hers. Threaded their fingers together and tugged him toward the shore.

“This mermaid is ready for land. And a bed. And some privacy. With you.”

Luis’s dark eyes sparked with hunger, and a promise of the delectable afternoon ahead.





Chapter 16


Hot and sweaty after their Tour de France pace from the beach at one end of Duval to the rental house on the other, and with a different, more exhilarating activity on their minds, Luis and Sara didn’t bother storing their bikes when they arrived home. Instead, they parked them in the grass in front of the pygmy date palm trees and flowering bushes hiding the corner storage unit from view in the backyard oasis.

Luis sucked in a deep breath, trying but failing to slow the pulse hammering in his chest.

His body thrummed with anticipation and . . . hell, flat-out eye-crossing lust. Things had gotten so freaking hot and heavy in the water, he’d barely made the walk from the shore to the bike rack without giving bystanders a peep show of his hard-on.

Co?o, had he and Sara been alone, at one of the secluded areas around the tiny islands and sandbars out in the Gulf, they wouldn’t have waited for niceties like a bed, clean sheets, or a shower.

The image of Sara standing under the chrome rain showerhead in their upstairs bathroom, water cascading down her body, now a captivating rosy gold after her time under the Key West sun, had Luis growing hard.

She hurried up the porch steps ahead of him, the cheeky grin she sent over her shoulder inducing him to pick up his own pace. She tapped the key code into the pad on the bath-laundry room door, then pushed it open.

The alarm beeped, alerting anyone inside that a door or window had opened. Thankfully, the house was empty.

Halfway through their race home she’d received a text from her mother. The golfers were starting the tenth hole, with the intention of arriving home by midafternoon. That meant Sara and Luis had the house to themselves for at least a couple hours.

And Luis knew exactly, and how deliciously, he wanted to fill them.

Once inside, Sara dropped the beach bag with their sheet and wet towels on top of the washer, then turned to face him. Her blue-green eyes swam with excitement as she held out her hand. A silent invitation from the sexy siren who had enticed him into the ocean.

Forget waiting for the bed! Luis grasped her tiny waist, lifting her to sit on top of the washer.

“Oh!” she yelped, eyes wide with surprise.

He stepped in between her spread knees, counting himself lucky when she leaned forward to meet his kiss. The minty taste of her gum and the coconut scent of the sunscreen he’d insisted she reapply before they hopped on their bikes again heightened his senses. Greedily he suckled her lower lip, nipped it gently with his teeth. Her tongue sought his. Twisting, exploring, taking everything he gave her and giving back in return.

His fingers found the hem of her Lycra tank, sneaking under to caress her trim stomach.

She moaned into his mouth, then hooked her legs around his back. Sliding to the edge of the washer, she brought her lower body flush against him.

His hands strayed higher, seeking the mounds of flesh he’d been dying to taste since he’d felt her nipples pebbling under the thin bathing suit material back at the beach. Only the threat of the two of them getting arrested for indecent exposure had kept him from peeling her top down so he could suckle her right there. Christening South Beach as his favorite make-out spot on the island.

Now, he cupped her pert breasts with his palms, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over her firm nipples until she gasped. Her breath shuddered, the force rippling from her chest through her slender torso. Her sensual reaction urged him on, and he lifted her tank up to her armpits, revealing the fuchsia bathing suit triangles covering her from his hungry gaze.

Hands splayed on the washer for support, she leaned back, offering herself to him.

Luis growled with impatient lust, blood surging to his erection. He tugged aside the thin material on her right breast, then bent to take her into his mouth. Dried salt from the ocean water melded with her sweetness on his tongue.

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