Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Good Lord, he’s sexy.
I’m slightly disappointed when he finishes up before tossing the towel over a chair to dry in the sun. Another quick dip off the back of the boat seems to be in order. Although, it’s doubtful it would do anything to cool me off. The feel of his hands squeezing my ass has been singed into my mind for all eternity. Already I know that once I return to Chicago, I’ll take this memory out and relive it a million times.
Kingsley grabs the cooler and brings it to the front of the boat where there’s a flat, padded area that’s perfect for a picnic. I unwind the towel wrapped around me and place it on the deck before sitting down next to him. The boat sways gently beneath us as he unloads the Yeti.
“They call this the bunny pad,” he says conversationally.
Seems like an odd name. “Do you entertain a lot of bunnies here?”
We both know what I’m asking without voicing the question. My guess is that he does.
His gaze pins mine in place. “Not as many as you might suspect.”
“Good to know.” I glance away, breaking eye contact to stare at the white-capped waves. There’s something infinitely calming about being on the water.
He clears his throat and changes the subject. “I packed sandwiches, chips, a couple of oranges, and a few bottles of water.”
This guy knows how to do a picnic lunch up right.
Now that I’m staring at all this food spread out between us, my belly growls and I realize how famished I am. For breakfast this morning, I had wolfed down a protein bar. I think we all know that I was more interested in getting my ass to the beach and waiting for Kingsley to make an appearance.
“Wow, thanks! This looks amazing,” I say with appreciation.
We dig in, eating our turkey and cheddar sandwiches first. He plows through two of them. The guy has a big appetite. But I’m used to that because my brother is the same way. Mom can’t keep food in the house because he’s like a human garbage disposal. It doesn’t take long for us to demolish our meal.
With a full belly and the scorching sun blazing down on us, I grow drowsy. Kingsley packs up the Yeti and takes the cooler back to the covered part of the boat before returning with his towel. He spreads it out next to mine before dropping beside me.
When his fingers tangle loosely with mine, I glance at him, unable to stop the flutter in my belly and the smile of contentment as it curves my lips.
So far, this has been the best day.
He squeezes my fingers and I turn my face toward the sun, allowing my eyelids to close. The rhythmic rocking of the boat makes it easy to doze off. When I wake, my skin feels hot. I stretch and realize that my fingers are still entwined with Kingsley’s larger ones. I prop myself up on my elbows as the haze clouding my mind clears.
Sunscreen. I should probably slather more on. My skin is fair, the last thing I want is to get burned. As reluctant as I am to break contact, I gently attempt to pry my fingers from his. When I do, Kingsley’s grip tightens. Unable to help myself, my gaze roams greedily over his prone body. He’s all tightly honed strength. Stretched out on the towel, his muscles standout in sharp relief against sun-kissed skin. Another swift punch of arousal hits me.
“I need sunscreen,” I whisper, mouth going dry. With his mirrored aviators covering his eyes, I’m not sure if he’s awake or not.
With a soft grunt, he releases my fingers and the connection between us is broken. I rise unsteadily to my feet, walking to the enclosed part of the boat and rummaging through my bag for the spray bottle. As I pull it from the bottom, I can already tell it’s empty. I dig around some more, shifting things, hoping I brought another. Usually I dump a few in for just this kind of occasion. As I’m about to give up, my fingers wrap around a small squeeze bottle.
Bingo!
Unsure if Kingsley needs to reapply, I set the bag on the table and make my way to the front of the boat. I lower myself to the plush towel before shaking the bottle and squirting a dollop onto my palm and rubbing it into my arms and legs. Kingsley’s head twists toward me and even though I can’t see his eyes, I feel their heat as I massage the lotion into my chest and belly.
When I reach around to get the tops of my shoulders, his voice rumbles from beside me, breaking the silence. “Need help?”
Thick tendrils of sexual tension spark to life and simmer in the surrounding air.