Taming Lily (The Fowler Sisters #3)(46)

“Life’s too short,” she says, laughter tingeing her voice. “Don’t you agree?”

It feels like a trick question. “I guess.”

The look she sends me could probably slay me dead. “What are you saying? Are you a grudge holder, Max?”

“No.” I shake my head. Most men aren’t; at least the ones I know aren’t. I get over shit fairly easy. Unless I’m wronged. Betrayed. I should be pissed at this woman because she’s betraying me as we speak. Keeping her true identity from me even though I know it. I’ve always known it. Meaning I’m betraying her as well. Beating her at her own game. Aren’t we a f*cking pair?

More like a f*cked-up pair.

“Good, because grudges get us nowhere.” She smiles. “I’d like to start over if we can. Cowboy.” Her emphasis on the word isn’t lost on me. If this is what she wants, then I will definitely deliver, because it’s what I want, too.

For entirely different reasons, of course, and none that I can mention.

“Well, fancy meeting you here, darlin,’ ” I drawl, though truly, I’m nothing close to a cowboy. I like the nickname, though. More like I appreciate that she came up with it.

I’d like to see her ride me again like a sexy cowgirl, full breasts swaying with her every move, nipples tight and tempting me to suck them deep into my mouth. Her long, wavy hair falling down her back, eyes heavy lidded and lips parted as pleasure rocks through her …

Yeah. I’d like to see that real bad.

Her smile grows and she settles in the chair next to mine, which had been abandoned a few minutes ago. She’s clad in another tiny scrap of a bikini, a real attention-getter in bright yellow, the top a strapless band that barely contains her breasts. The belly ring twinkles and shines in the sunlight, and I’m tempted to flick it with my tongue just before I move down and taste that delicious * of hers.

“What’s your name, cowboy?” she asks, batting her eyelashes at me.

Seems like she’s taking this starting-over game seriously. “Max,” I say with a shrug. “Yours?”

“Lily.” She smiles and the sight of it zaps me straight in the heart, then moves lower and settles in my cock. I will myself to remain in control. I don’t need to lounge around a public pool with a boner in my swim trunks, though I wouldn’t doubt there are a few boners standing at attention around here, what with all the fine-looking women wandering around.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, sitting up and leaning toward her with my hand stretched out.

She stares at my hand, her eyes going wide before lifting her gaze to meet mine. “My, what big hands you have,” she murmurs as she slips her hand in mine.

We shake and when she tries to let go, I clamp my fingers around hers, keeping the connection. I missed that connection. It’s not even been twenty-four hours since I was last inside her and I f*cking missed her. “The better to touch you with,” I murmur, my heart thudding fast and hard when I see desire light her gaze.

I let her hand fall from mine and she turns away, keeping her head averted, like she doesn’t want me to see her face—more likely her reaction to my words—which of course makes me want to see her that much more.

“Maybe you should get out of the sun,” I suggest. My gaze roves over her and I see how pink her skin is. How long has she been out here, anyway? And why didn’t I see her? I looked everywhere. I always found her before. Always.

But maybe those who don’t want to be found remain in the shadows.

“You’re probably right.” Her words draw me from my thoughts and I glance up to watch as she turns to face me once more. I’m struck yet again by her beauty. The woman is flat-out gorgeous. And she doesn’t have a lick of makeup on, not that I can tell, and this afternoon she’s forgone jewelry, too, except for the belly ring. Just a bikini and her hair twisted into a knot on top of her head, wild tendrils curling around her face. She doesn’t even have her sunglasses on. She looks like she ran out of her fancy bungalow in a big hurry.

To come find me, maybe?

Probably not. More like wishful thinking on my part.

“Got sunscreen on?” I ask. The pink hue of her skin looks like it could get painful fairly quick if she doesn’t watch it, her chest especially. The Hawaiian sun is intense. Don’t want all that pretty flesh burnt.

“I didn’t even bring my bag with me.” She bites her lower lip and I want to groan. Damn, she’s sexy when she studies me like that. Those big, unblinking eyes, the way she looks at me like she wants to lick me up and down. “I was hiding from you, you know,” she confesses softly.

No surprise. I say nothing, just study her and hope she senses I want to hear more.

“I could’ve stayed at my bungalow, but I didn’t want to be alone.” She sinks her teeth into her lower lip and I’m filled with the almost violent urge to grab hold of her and kiss her. Push her right into that lounger and let my hands roam all over her body.

“You didn’t?”

She releases her lip, then licks it. The sight of her pink tongue makes me hiss in a breath. Fuck, being so close to her like this and not able to touch her hurts. “No. I was so pissed at you last night, Max. So f*cking angry …” Her voice drifts and I sit up straight, shocked by her display of honesty. “But despite myself I came down here looking for you. And when I saw you, I hid. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?”