what he
wasn’t
wearing, her feet might
never
find the ground.
Jeans kicked aside, he ran a thumb around the inside band of black shorts that hung perfectly on his lean hips. Was it the trail of dark hair, or the hard outline of sculptedabdominal muscles that dipped beneath the band of shorts beside his thumb? Whatever the lure, that span between navel and what those shorts were hiding shouldn’t be allowed out in public without a licence.
When she caught his words, ‘Maybe I should throw you in,’ Roxy was hauled back.
‘Don’t you dare!’
‘What if I do?’
As he prowled closer, those gorgeous shoulders rolling towards her, she backed up and warned him, ‘You never know. I might scream.’
‘I’ll risk it.’
‘You don’t take those kinds of risks.’
‘Maybe I’m on the cusp of a change.’
‘And maybe my hair is green.’
Her back met with a massive tree trunk. Boulders rose up either side. Attempt at escape was useless.
Grinning, he kept coming until his chest was so close, if she’d tipped forward a few degrees, she could run her lips over that masterpiece and taste it.
His voice lowered to a deep and private whisper. ‘Hey, I think we have their attention.’
She blinked and almost asked,
Whose attention?
But then elements other than the bone-melting effect of his musky scent and body heat filtered through the fog, and she remembered the true situation and slid a surreptitious look the warring couple’s way. Although pretending not to, both Marla and Greg were watching, interested, obviously waiting for their next move.
Nate whispered again, a hypnotic sexy drawl.
‘Now, take off your clothes.’
Her skin flashing hot, Roxy moistened her lips. But she was overreacting. Of course, he knew she wore a swimsuit underneath. She corrected him.
‘You mean take off my
dress
.’
‘That’s a start.’ He cocked his head and summed her up again, his X-ray gaze devouring every inch.
‘On second thought,’ he said, ‘I vote we strip you in the water.’
Knees gone to jelly, she pressed back against the trunk and tried to sound unaffected. ‘Who said anything about a vote? This isn’t a democracy.’
‘You’re right.’ His brows nudged together. ‘It’s not.’
He moved so fast, she didn’t have time to duck under his arm or try to push him away, not that either move would’ve made a difference. When Nate scooped her up, she was faced with a testosterone-infused power that both alarmed and, frankly, excited her too. As those muscles locked her effortlessly in and he carried her with sure long strides towards the creek, she felt energized and aroused—a glaring contrast to how she
ought
to feel. She should be outraged, not secretly plagued by the desire to press more into the hard hot feel of him. At least she was genuinely shrieking, kicking her legs and begging that he let her down. If she went swimming, she’d get in at her own pace.
Nate crashed through the water, cool wet soaked up her dress and, laughing, he asked, ‘Would you rather fast or slow?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Do you prefer to be dumped or swirled in bit by bit?’
Pushing a palm against his granite chest, she struggled and muttered, ‘As if my opinion counts.’
‘I like the idea of hearing you scream out my name as I throw you up into the air. But drawing out the experience, taking it slow, appeals even more.’
The fiend
. He wasn’t talking about the water. He was letting her know how he wanted to take her in a physical, purely sexual sense, even after she’d told him againthat wasn’t happening. And it
wasn’t
. Nothing could make her climb on that hot-cold, curse-on/curse-off, merry-go-round again, no matter how incredibly wonderful his body looked, smelled.
Felt
.
When he swirled around, pebbles crunched beneath his feet and silky water sluiced up her back, over her hips. Loathing to be dropped, she clung on, one arm twined around his strong neck. The hand that had
wasn’t
wearing, her feet might
never
find the ground.
Jeans kicked aside, he ran a thumb around the inside band of black shorts that hung perfectly on his lean hips. Was it the trail of dark hair, or the hard outline of sculptedabdominal muscles that dipped beneath the band of shorts beside his thumb? Whatever the lure, that span between navel and what those shorts were hiding shouldn’t be allowed out in public without a licence.
When she caught his words, ‘Maybe I should throw you in,’ Roxy was hauled back.
‘Don’t you dare!’
‘What if I do?’
As he prowled closer, those gorgeous shoulders rolling towards her, she backed up and warned him, ‘You never know. I might scream.’
‘I’ll risk it.’
‘You don’t take those kinds of risks.’
‘Maybe I’m on the cusp of a change.’
‘And maybe my hair is green.’
Her back met with a massive tree trunk. Boulders rose up either side. Attempt at escape was useless.
Grinning, he kept coming until his chest was so close, if she’d tipped forward a few degrees, she could run her lips over that masterpiece and taste it.
His voice lowered to a deep and private whisper. ‘Hey, I think we have their attention.’
She blinked and almost asked,
Whose attention?
But then elements other than the bone-melting effect of his musky scent and body heat filtered through the fog, and she remembered the true situation and slid a surreptitious look the warring couple’s way. Although pretending not to, both Marla and Greg were watching, interested, obviously waiting for their next move.
Nate whispered again, a hypnotic sexy drawl.
‘Now, take off your clothes.’
Her skin flashing hot, Roxy moistened her lips. But she was overreacting. Of course, he knew she wore a swimsuit underneath. She corrected him.
‘You mean take off my
dress
.’
‘That’s a start.’ He cocked his head and summed her up again, his X-ray gaze devouring every inch.
‘On second thought,’ he said, ‘I vote we strip you in the water.’
Knees gone to jelly, she pressed back against the trunk and tried to sound unaffected. ‘Who said anything about a vote? This isn’t a democracy.’
‘You’re right.’ His brows nudged together. ‘It’s not.’
He moved so fast, she didn’t have time to duck under his arm or try to push him away, not that either move would’ve made a difference. When Nate scooped her up, she was faced with a testosterone-infused power that both alarmed and, frankly, excited her too. As those muscles locked her effortlessly in and he carried her with sure long strides towards the creek, she felt energized and aroused—a glaring contrast to how she
ought
to feel. She should be outraged, not secretly plagued by the desire to press more into the hard hot feel of him. At least she was genuinely shrieking, kicking her legs and begging that he let her down. If she went swimming, she’d get in at her own pace.
Nate crashed through the water, cool wet soaked up her dress and, laughing, he asked, ‘Would you rather fast or slow?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Do you prefer to be dumped or swirled in bit by bit?’
Pushing a palm against his granite chest, she struggled and muttered, ‘As if my opinion counts.’
‘I like the idea of hearing you scream out my name as I throw you up into the air. But drawing out the experience, taking it slow, appeals even more.’
The fiend
. He wasn’t talking about the water. He was letting her know how he wanted to take her in a physical, purely sexual sense, even after she’d told him againthat wasn’t happening. And it
wasn’t
. Nothing could make her climb on that hot-cold, curse-on/curse-off, merry-go-round again, no matter how incredibly wonderful his body looked, smelled.
Felt
.
When he swirled around, pebbles crunched beneath his feet and silky water sluiced up her back, over her hips. Loathing to be dropped, she clung on, one arm twined around his strong neck. The hand that had
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