in my mind. By the time we made it to Lummus Park, I was a hot mess of hormones. One false move and I was liable to pop off. As soon as he slowed the bike down to a parking spot, I clambered off, took off my helmet and shook out my hair. The pulse between my legs was incessant and demanding. And my body knew who it wanted: the gentle giant standing in front of me, scanning the beach for a stray dog he was planning on saving.
As he slipped on a pair of sunglasses that made him look extra dashing, the only sensation my body conveyed was need.
24
Beck
Lummus Park was hot, the sun’s rays blinding off the white sand. Bathing-suit-clad tourists played beach volleyball or lounged on towels as music drifted past us on the breeze. This was the Miami Beach of movies and tourism videos—a neon-colored paradise.
I’d lived in Miami Beach my entire life. But everyone here existed in a world where I wasn’t welcome. I’d had a front-row seat to the mayhem the Miami Devils caused along Ocean Drive. My playground growing up had been the cold concrete floor in the clubhouse.
“Okay, what do we do?” Luna asked, clapping her hands together.
I searched the sand for a dark-brown dog, ignoring the beach balls people were tossing back and forth, and the roar of a pair of jet-skis off the shore. “According to the report, she’s a brindle pit mix, not more than thirty pounds. Skittish. Skinny. No collar.”
I showed her the supplies I’d brought: slip-collar, gloves and a leash. And the bacon I had in my pocket.
“I feel like a Marvel superhero but for dogs,” she said.
“Which one am I?”
“The Incredible Hulk, duh,” she said.
I was about to ask her which superhero that made her—but then I saw the dog.
“She’s over there,” I said, extending my hand. “Follow my arm.”
Luna lifted her aviators, squinting. “I don’t see her.” She rose up on her tiptoes and grabbed my bicep. Our ride out here had my head spinning with lust—the feel of her hand on my chest, face to my back, strong thighs pressed against mine. We’d been joined together as we rocketed down the road and I’d thought about fucking her any number of filthy ways.
But I needed to focus on the stray, not her fingers on my skin.
“How about now?” I asked.
She shook her head. Against my better judgment, I placed my fingers in her soft hair and gently moved her face toward the dog far across the beach.
“Oh, there she is!” she said.
I gave her the heavy-duty gardening gloves. “We’ll try and get close to her—with the help of this bacon. Wear the gloves and watch her mouth at all times. Scared dogs snap.”
“What if she runs away?”
We began to make our way through hundreds of towels on the sand. I could smell hot dogs and sunscreen.
“Well, it’s kind of hard. We don’t want to scare her but we might need to run after her. Either way, the most important thing is to get her in the truck, okay?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Her smile was cute.
“You really don’t have to call me boss.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
“Luna,” I said.
“On it, sir.”
She was laughing and loose. Meanwhile my fingers were curling into fists.
Sir made me think of her sinking to her knees in the sand.
But as I watched her wind-tossed hair, my secret desires turned tender.
I wanted to touch her hair.
Dive into it, tangle it, grip it, yank it. Breathe it in. Beneath every fantasy I had—of bending her over my bike and tearing those yoga pants in two—lived an urge to smell her hair like a weirdo.
“Beck?” Luna prodded.
I dragged a hand down my face. “Sorry. Uh, I was thinking about the dog. Let’s head towards that row of palm trees.”
As the two of us neared, I could see the dog lying in the shade. Her ribs were visible and her skin had mange. As soon as we came into view, she hid behind the trunk.
I crouched. Luna did the same. Our body language was gentle. Non-threatening.
I held a finger to my lips and Luna nodded. When I pulled out the bacon and placed it on the spot in front of us, the stray was immediately interested. The dog took one… two… three steps closer. Her legs were trembling, eyes wide with mistrust.
The dog looked at Luna. Looked at me. Looked at the food.
And bolted.
“Fuck,” I swore, standing up and holding out my hand to Luna. I pulled her