“Paige?”

  His voice is the only thing I have to go by, and so I focus there. “Hmm?”

  “No more war. Wave your white flag.”

  “I am. Can you see it?”

  I take his hand from my cheek and put it on my wrist as I sway my hand back and forth. He laughs, and then he tugs free of my grip and comes over me, his heaviness like a blanket on top of me. His hips pin mine down as he falls forward, his hands on the pillow beside my head.

  “Tell me the truth once and for all,” he demands.

  I can smell his minty breath. His mouth is so close to mine now.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Am I alone in this?”

  I shake my head, but he can’t see it. It’s not answer enough.

  “Say it, please,” he begs. “Say it and I’ll believe you. Say it and we can be done.” His mouth drops even closer. “No more pretending, I swear it.”

  When I go quiet, he leans down farther. His lips brush my temple, my cheek. I don’t think he has a plan in mind except to tempt me out of my shell. Just when his mouth creeps toward mine and I think he’ll kiss me—my excitement growing—he pulls away, and it’s the fear of his departure that finally provokes me to speak the truth.

  “I love you,” I say as I grab for him, worried he’ll leave. “God, more than that, I like you. I like you so much. This year, since I met you, it feels like you’re the only one who gets me, like you’re my very best friend but also . . . I feel so . . . so—”

  “Scared?”

  “Petrified.”

  He takes my hand then and brings it to his chest, pressing it hard against his heartbeat. He’s showing me his fear too.

  He’s answering my worries.

  “Paige, I . . .”

  He stalls like the words are stuck in his throat. I’m not surprised he’s having trouble expressing himself. Cole isn’t the type to throw around casual endearments.

  “You . . . ,” I say, goading him with a smile.

  “I love you.” His words are a whisper. Even now, even in this, he’s shy.

  Then he lifts my hand to his lips, and he presses a kiss to my palm, my wrist, the crook of my elbow, my shoulder . . . on he goes to my neck, chin. Then his mouth finds mine, and it’s like we’ve just cut our chains and freed ourselves. My arms loop around his neck as he falls down onto me, kissing me with a fierceness I’ve never felt. It’s overwhelming, but that little voice of worry in my head doesn’t get center stage. Lust wins out. The need to let him continue however he likes, to do with me whatever he wishes.

  I would love to see him, but I can’t be bothered to push him off me and turn on a lamp, so I feel him instead. I run my hands down his muscular back until I reach the dip at his hips. I press my body up against his, and he responds by pushing me down hard into the bed, rolling his hips, making me gasp.

  When we started to kiss, I seemed too aware of everything. How I positioned my hands. How I moved my lips. Slowly, he coaxes me into just feeling the passion, letting go of all the insecurities swirling in my head. Soon it’s only him. His touch. His kiss. His pleasure melding with mine.

  He works my shirt up over my stomach, and his mouth falls there. He kisses my navel and travels up, pushing my shirt higher until cool air caresses my chest. Warmth replaces it as his hands cup my breasts, palming the taut flesh as he teases me. He lowers his mouth there, sweeping his tongue over each tip, making my back arch off the bed.

  I’m adrift in pleasure when he suddenly pushes up and turns on the lamp. I blink, adjusting to the shallow light.

  Then I see him there, his dark hair mussed up from my hands, his gaze wicked, his lips dark red.

  He doesn’t ask; he simply tugs my shirt off the rest of the way, up and over my head. Then it falls to the floor, an afterthought now.

  He admires me without a word as I lie on the bed in nothing more than my panties. My cheeks are warm, and despite my efforts to remain still, I fidget under his intense gaze.

  How did we get here?

  How is he so calm?

  Words don’t tumble out of him the way I want them to. Beautiful, irresistible, sexy beyond belief—these are all good. I would accept any of them. Cole just seems . . . entranced. And while he might not say any of those words aloud, I feel them in his soft caress, the way his hands squeeze my waist, the way he wets his bottom lip and then blinks as if forcing himself back to the task at hand: giving me sweet, sweet pleasure.

  “Do you think we’ll continue?” I tease.

  “Definitely.”

  “Then shouldn’t you take your shirt off too?”

  He does it so fast it’s like he’s been practicing for this moment all year. Every day, he times himself. Faster, Cole, faster. Damn it. The Rocky soundtrack plays in the background.

  Now I’m the one who’s gone mute as he sits shirtless above me. Honestly, Cole. How dare you cover up every day in those suits? Leaving this to the imagination? So cruel . . .

  Since he took his sweet time exploring me, I do the same. I walk my fingers up his chest, over every subtle ridge and valley, taking detailed notes in my mind. Later, I’ll be able to draw his body to scale, including elevations, like an expert cartographer. I make it all the way to his collarbone, and then I decide I haven’t had enough so I start again. But before I can, Cole reaches out and snatches my wrist with the reflexes of a viper.

  He doesn’t give an explanation; it’s not needed. Cole’s impatience is heating the air between us. His hunger is feeding mine. While he keeps hold of my wrist with one hand, his other hand traces the top of my panties. Ever so slowly, like he’s trying to catalog every last thread, he drags the pad of his finger along there. I’m flushed and needy. Every one of my nerve endings seems to have been brought to the surface. He eases off me a little. I twist my hips, and he slides his hand lower, over the soft satin material that covers me. His hand disappears between my legs, and then I feel him brush two fingers across the center of me. Oh, Cole.

  I squeeze my eyes closed, partly in embarrassment, partly to keep from succumbing to his touch too quickly. I could. I mean, how long have I wanted this? How good does it feel to finally have Cole’s hand where I want it, toying with me, teasing the material of my panties aside so that his fingers can touch me—skin to skin. I writhe underneath him, and he smiles. I don’t even need to open my eyes to see it. I know it’s there.

  “I like when you whimper,” he tells me with a cocky edge to his tone.

  And then he rubs his fingers across the most sensitive part of me, and a small moan twists its way out of my throat.

  I want more but I don’t know how to ask for it, don’t know how to even force an actual word out of my mouth with consonants and vowels. But then Cole doesn’t need my help. He delivers all on his own as his finger presses slowly inside me. Then he draws it back out and adds a second.

  My hand finds his wrist, and I squeeze with a plea.

  Continue. Continue FOREVER!

  He chuckles under his breath, and then he shifts, lowering himself to the side of me so his hand can stay where it is between my legs but his mouth can find mine.

  He sinks his fingers in deeper, and I gasp for air just before he kisses me, stealing the last few shreds of common sense I had left.

  It feels like too much to have so much of his attention focused on me, but it’s like he wants me like this, completely at his mercy, rolling my hips up to meet his hand, fidgety, needy, totally on edge.

  His mouth and his hand are savage now. His lips. His fingers. His teeth. It’s all a blur. I feel so consumed. I’m hot, hotter, hottest—and then I come apart, crying his name like I’m almost in pain. Those little flashes of light behind my closed lids, the tendrils of pleasure lashing through me. Cole sees it all, the purest part of me, and when I’m done and I blink my eyes open and stare at him, I think I recognize love in his gaze. But then he kisses me again, tender and sweet, and when he pulls back, he assesses me with a lazy smile.

  Now here is where we would continue. I mean, some could argue that we absolutely have to continue. He’s supposed to crawl up over me and sink into me and we’d go at it all night long.

  And for the record, I do argue for it.

  When he stands up to go into the bathroom after my orgasm to end all orgasms, I sit up, confused.

  “Wait, what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Don’t you want to . . . y’know?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “What?! Why not tonight?”

  He doesn’t answer, so I’m forced to scramble off the bed and follow him. He’s at the sink washing his hands. Then he reaches for his toothbrush like it’s any ol’ night! Gotta keep the chompers pearly white!

  I blink fast, trying to piece together what’s happening. “Wait . . . are you a virgin?”

  He’s trying not to laugh now. “Paige . . . it’s not that.”

  He finally looks at me in the mirror, and though he just had me splayed out underneath him on the bed, the sight of me naked in the doorway still stops him in his tracks.

  For the record, I’m wholly unperturbed by my nakedness. I have a good body. You don’t hike thirty-plus miles a week without having some kick-ass legs to show for it. And he’s seen all of me now. Felt it, too, so what do I care about being naked? Besides, I have more serious issues to contend with, like why Cole isn’t currently railing me on that bed.

  “Do you have issues getting it up?”

  He rolls his eyes and turns.

  His li’l Cole is large and in charge, fully erect beneath his boxer briefs, thank you very much.

  “It’s dumb,” he says, shaking his head and turning around to continue brushing his teeth.

  “Say it.”

  “Paige.”

  I throw my hands up in protest. “I was just honest with you! I thought you said we weren’t going to pretend anymore. So tell me the truth.”

  In the mirror, his eyes lock with mine. “I want to be sure you feel okay about what we just did. I want you to sleep on it.”

  “SLEEP ON IT?!”

  “I don’t want you to change your mind.”

  CHANGE MY MIND?!

  “That’s absurd.”

  He doesn’t reply.

  He starts to brush his teeth.

  Oh, I hate him. I hate him. He doesn’t get to do that to me, to see me unravel like that and then shift immediately to his dental hygiene routine.

  No.

  I walk toward him, taking his shoulders gently in hand, and slowly turn him until he’s facing me.

  “Paige,” he says around his toothbrush.

  Ooh, I like the warning in his voice. There’s a sharpness to it that I can’t resist.

  He wants me to turn an about-face and retreat, but I’m on a mission.

  “What? I’m not doing anything.”

  I am, though. I’m kneeling down and positioning myself at his feet, wrapping my hands around his thighs. The cold tile bites into my knees, and maybe I’ll be sporting bruises in the morning, maybe not. What do I care?

  What should be a second warning never comes.

  No, Cole’s already lost to the feeling of my hand cupping his length through his boxer briefs. Oh yes. No issues here. Everything is working just fine in this department, let me assure you.

  I peer up at him from beneath my lashes.

  His toothbrush is gone, forgotten. He twists around, spits his toothpaste out in the sink, and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He shouldn’t be as sexy as he is, damn it.

  Now, I slide my hand up higher along his thigh until I can slip it underneath the pesky cotton that’s keeping us apart. I feel him first that way, hard as steel, soft and smooth. Blessedly thick. I work him up, pumping my hand a few times, just until his head lolls back and his eyes shut.

  I can’t keep the delicious smile off my face. I’m evil, truly.

  I don’t even need to take his boxer briefs off completely. No, I tug them down enough to free his hard length, and then I take him in my mouth. His hiss dissolves into a guttural groan.

  When I take my lips off him, he looks down with dark, hooded eyes.

  More? my cocked eyebrow says.

  His hand cups my cheek before sliding back into my hair. He’s so gentle about it at first, and then when I don’t continue—because this is a game, after all—he pulls me closer, forcing me just enough to show me how much he wants this.

  My hand closes around him harder, pumping up and down as I take the tip just past my lips and suck. Slowly, teasingly, I take him all the way into my mouth, working him as best I can. Victory tastes oh so sweet. Salty too.

  I’m not overly adept at this, but the sounds he’s making assures me that I’ve mostly got it right. Squeeze, pump, suck, continue. His hand fists tighter in my hair. I love it. I want it to go on forever, but my jaw is aching and he’s sliding deeper down my throat. I feel like I need a huge gulp of air or my lungs are going to burst, and then he comes, hard. Pleasure racks through him in great heaving waves, and I take it like a champ, smiling even.

  I know he’s the one that just had an orgasm, so tell me why I feel like gloating as I push to my feet. Maybe it’s the look in Cole’s eyes. The absolute promise lurking in his gaze:

  You’re going to get it, Paige. Just remember while it’s happening . . . you asked for it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  PAIGE

  When I wake up the next morning, the shower’s going, Cole’s half of the bed is empty, and my phone is vibrating on my nightstand. It’s my mom, no doubt wanting an update on what’s going on over here.

  The brief report: Yeah, so hurricane destruction ended up not being so bad. I did give my indirect superior a blow job yesterday, though, so that’s kind of shaking things up over here in Turks and Caicos. Stay tuned.

  I answer with a sleepy hello.

  “Bad timing?” my mom asks. “I figured you’d be up by now.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m up,” I assure her.

  “Dad’s here with me too. Say hi.”

  “Hi, Dad!”

  “Hi, Paigey! We’ve been worried sick about you the last few days. How are you holding up?”

  I sit up and let my legs dangle off the side of the bed. “I’m good, promise.” When I push off the bed and walk over to peer out the window, I find that most of the flooding around the resort’s property has receded now. The grounds crew has been hard at work too. The debris and trash have been collected. If I didn’t know better, it’d look like we just got a hard rain, nothing more. The plants and trees are green and vibrant, soaking up the hot sun.

  I’m sure if I check my email, I’ll find an updated work schedule. I can’t imagine they’ll stall resort operations for another day. Not if things are mostly back to normal.

  “What about the resort?”

  “It’s totally fine, Mom. The flooding is pretty much gone now. I’m sure they’ll have us—”

  The bathroom door opens then, and Cole walks out, freshly showered, fully dressed for work.

  “Hon? What were you saying?” my mom prompts.

  Cole looks up to find me staring.

  “Hi,” he mouths while he finishes putting on his silver watch.

  I smile and mouth back, “Hi.”

  “Did we lose her?” my dad asks.

  “This connection is so spotty.” My mom grumbles. “Paige?”

  Cole starts walking toward me, and my breath stalls in my chest. When he reaches me, he bends down to kiss my cheek, and I close my eyes, savoring it.

  “Paige?” my mom tries once more.

  Then the call goes dead. I let the phone slip away from my ear as I promise myself I’ll call them back later and answer any and all of their questions ad nauseam.

  “Your parents?” Cole asks, nodding toward the phone.

  “They’ve been worried.”

  He nods. “You should call them back.”

  “I will.”

  For now, I reach up to stroke a finger down the center of his shirt. No tie today, just a pristine white button-down with SIESTA PLAYA embroidered over the left breast pocket. Cole lets me trail my finger down all the way to his stomach, and then he grabs my hand and laces our fingers together.

  “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “About us?” I ask, chewing on the inside of my mouth.

  He nods.

  “Absolutely more sure than ever.”

  I’m proud of myself for speaking the truth for once without dancing around it.

  “Good.”

  He bends down without warning and kisses me on the lips.

  “Wow,” I say when he peels back. “So we’re just doing it now? Kissing in broad daylight?”

  Cole smiles, and the sight of it, dimple and all, absolutely slays me. “That’s what couples do.”

  “What else do couples do?” I ask teasingly.

  “They get ready for work so they’re not both late.”

  I make a sound like a game show buzzer.

  “Boring! What else?”

  “They pack their bags because their resort vacation is officially over . . .”

  My smile drops. “Say it ain’t so.”

  He frowns too. “I got an email this morning that staff housing has been deemed all clear. Power has been restored to the entire resort, and the few employees whose dorms flooded have been relocated. There’s no reason for staff to remain in the hotel.”

  “Boo.”

  He squeezes my hand to let me know he doesn’t like it either.

  “Should we? Y’know . . .” My eyebrows waggle as I indicate the bed.

  “I have to be down in the lobby in five minutes.”

  “So that leaves us what? Four minutes, thirty seconds?”

  We didn’t take things any further last night. After we cleaned up in the bathroom and put on our pajamas, Cole and I lay together in bed in the dark, talking. TALKING. It felt like a throwback to my childhood sleepover days, lying awake with my best friend, rambling. I made Cole walk me through different moments of our relationship from his perspective.

  “When did you first think I was hot?”

  “When did you first want to kiss me?”

  “Why did you let me go after Blaze?!”