you doing?” she sputtered, though the indignant look she’d sported earlier had been replaced with something darker, something hotter, and she made no move to get away.
“I’m looking at you.” Her lips parted, and all that dark-red auburn hair floated on the water around her. She looked like a fucking hot mermaid. Boone’s abs tightened. Hell, his entire body was on fire with a need so strong, he couldn’t help himself. “I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured, arms sliding around her waist to hold her secure.
“You can’t,” she shot back at him.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to.”
“Liar,” he all but growled like an animal.
Every inch of her softness was pressed against him, and when her tongue darted out to swipe across her lower lip, he groaned and lowered his head.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said roughly.
“But that’s the thing about bad ideas.” He dipped his head, and her eyes followed the movement.
“And what’s that exactly?” she asked breathlessly.
“Bad ideas are usually the best ones.” The words were said against her mouth, and when he felt her body loosen and curve into his, when he felt her surrender, he slid his lips over hers and kissed Poppy Fairbanks the way a woman should be kissed. It was a slow-moving experiment, a bit of taste and touch that gathered momentum as she stopped treading water and her legs slowly wrapped themselves around his waist. He deepened the kiss, one arm around her body, the other hand sunk into her hair to hold her steady, and it was a good, long run before they came up for air. And when that happened, he kissed her again. He nibbled along her jaw to that spot behind her ear, the one he remembered from before, and smiled against her skin when she moaned as he pressed his lips there.
Kissing Poppy was like coming home to something he didn’t know he’d missed until he did. She felt perfect in his arms and tasted even better. Her hands explored his chest and shoulders, and he kissed her until things got interesting. His cock was engorged to the point of discomfort. Boone tore his mouth away, but the little minx wasn’t having it. She settled herself directly over him, her softness pressed into his hard body. He put his hands on her hips, trying like hell not to lose it when all he wanted to do was remove the bikini bottom that stood between him and paradise, and sink into all that softness.
He exhaled and stared down at her bruised mouth, then glanced over his shoulder when he heard shouts from down the beach. No one could see them—they were hidden from view by the boathouse—but it made him aware of just how close to the edge they were.
“We shouldn’t do this,” Poppy said, the words dropping like stones between them. She was just as aroused and worked up as he was, and as she spoke, she moved her hips, gyrating until he winced from pleasure and pain.
“And yet here we are,” he said roughly, moving them past a jut of trees and branches that fell out into the lake until they were completely hidden from anyone who ventured around the boathouse onto the dock. He thought he was going to lose his mind when she tugged on each side of her top exposing her breasts. And when she groaned as he claimed a nipple and suckled at her, he smiled wickedly, on fire with the need to give.
“Jesus, Boone, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she said, moving her hips again until he tore his mouth from her and swore.
“Are we?” he managed to get out.
“Can anyone see us?”
“No.” At least, he didn’t think so. He was about to suggest they stop—because he was that guy, the good one who knew somewhere deep inside that this thing they were about to do would change everything, and they hadn’t even started to repair the past. But Poppy had other plans, and she grabbed his shoulders and squirmed against him, claiming his mouth before he could say a word. They clung to each other, kissing, touching, and teasing—skin sliding over skin—and when he thought he would lose his mind, she reached down and tugged at his swim trunks. Before he could stop her, she had him in her hands, and he was a goner.
“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes closed as she stroked him long and slow, with just enough pressure to make him see