Swept Away by Toni Blake Page B

understood nothing could ever happen between them—nothing beyond the backseat of a car. Or the front seat, removed, sitting next to a swampy lake.
    He dragged his gaze back out over the ocean, remembering that he liked his life the way it was —no commitments, no responsibilities to anyone besides himself and the U.S. government. That’s how the FBI liked it, too—guys without family ties made the best agents, and he knew it was that particular attribute that had first made him seem like a not completely unreasonable candidate for the job.
    This island, and Kat—it was all just a little vacation, nothing more.
    A few oldies later, he heard movement to his left and glanced over to see her sit up, reach in the bag beside her for a tube of sunscreen, and begin to smooth the stuff over her arms—and then her legs. She used long, even strokes that kept his eyes riveted on her tan skin as it began to shimmer moistly.
    Making leisurely work of the task, she finally moved on to her belly. Damn, nice belly, kitten. He was usually a breast man, but that pretty tummy kept drawing his attention. Next came her chest, including the lovely slopes of those breasts, and she worked diligently to massage the lotion right up to the edges of the fabric, which took some time and captured every ounce of his attention.
    He couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed him watching and shot some scathing remark in his direction. Or maybe she had noticed. And maybe she just liked it. A thought that warmed his pelvic region.
    Just then, she reached around, trying to apply the sunscreen to her back—but she couldn’t, of course, only covering the outer edges. He knew an opportunity when he saw one, so he wasted no time pushing to his feet, taking a few steps over the sun-heated sand, and plucking the tube from between her fingers. “Allow me.”
    She let out a heavy breath of annoyance. “Do I have a choice?” “Not unless you want your back to look like your breasts.”
    She glared in disbelief, but he ignored that and settled behind her. He had to sit close, since there wasn’t much room between her ass and the sloping back of the chair. And she didn’t move away, even though his thigh pressed firmly into her round bottom.
    Squeezing a glob of coconut-scented lotion onto his fingertips, he started at the top of her back, rubbing it into her skin in a deliberately slow, wide circle, letting the loop grow gradually bigger and bigger until he moved onto her shoulders, finally abandoning the tube on his lap so he could use both hands. He smoothed in the sunscreen, massaging lightly at first, then deeper, deeper, until a gentle sigh of pleasure escaped her.
    His groin tightened as he leaned near her ear and spoke in a low voice. “Feel good, kitten?”
    She turned to look at him, which put his mouth about three inches from hers. He noticed her studying it before lifting her gaze to his eyes. “Any massage feels good,” she claimed, but her voice came breathy, which made him harder.
    He knew instinctively that his hot little massage felt way better to her than anything she could get in a spa, but he wasn’t going to argue with her right now. “Then let me keep going,” he said instead, squirting more lotion into his hand.
    Leisurely dragging his palms over her shoulder blades, he worked his way down until he found himself rubbing carefully around the thin string that crossed the center of her back, pushing his fingertips up under. He moved slow and thorough the whole time, wanting her to feel every nuance of his touch.
    Without planning it, his fingers soon massaged their way around to her sides, beginning to graze the soft outer curves of her breasts. She didn’t stop him, and that knowledge combined with the lush feel of the flesh beneath his fingers turned him still stiffer in his trunks. So soft, kitten. Soft and hot and perfect.
    He wanted desperately to press into her from behind and kiss her neck. He fought the urge to cup her breasts.