I really forget myself when I see the object of my latest affection grinning down at me. I’m breathing heavy from the momentary fear—or the lust coursing through me. He’s watching me through dark sunglasses. I wish like hell I could see his eyes. As if he’s read my mind, he lifts his glasses to reveal delighted brown eyes that appear lighter, more mischievous, in the sunlight than they did last night.
“Nice to see you, Amelia,” he says, my name considerably long and drawn out.
The glimpse of amusement on his face heats my cheeks, but when his eyes trail down from my face to my chest and I realize why he’s amused, I nearly shriek. Then his lips curve into a devilish grin, and he allows the glasses to fall back down and cover his eyes.
I was captivated by my book and then so utterly surprised at the cool sensation on my back that I completely forgot I’d unhooked my bikini top to minimize the tan lines. And, now, said bikini top is next to me on the towel, my breasts bared for all to see.
Sitting up at breakneck speed, I cover my chest and glare at him. “Why the hell did you sneak up on me like that?”
Knox throws a towel next to mine and sets down a boombox playing “I Wanna Be Your Lover” by Prince. How in the world I missed the music before this is beyond me.
And apparently Knox. He points to the boombox. “Babe, I wasn’t exactly trying to be quiet. Must’ve been some story if you didn’t even hear me coming.”
For some reason, I’m not so keen to share that what had my rapt attention is a novel called The Gloryhole Killer. So I push the book to the side with my free hand, all the while watching him through the lenses of my sunglasses. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a Prince fan.”
Knox chuckles then holds his arms out wide as if on display. “Let’s just say I have a vast variety of tastes. You could say I’m a little bit country, little bit rock ‘n roll. Throw in a mix of R&B and I like to think I’m the whole package.”
I snort at the reference. “Donny and Marie? My god, your taste. It’s a regular smorgasbord. Who’d have guessed?”
“Don’t worry, babe. By the end of the summer, you’ll know all about my palate.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if that’s a promise when something wet and slimy trickles down my spine and I remember what took me out of my book in the first place.
“What the heck did you pour on my back?” I ask accusingly, holding one arm across my breasts and using the other to clip the two pieces behind my back.
“Sunscreen,” he says nonchalantly. Then he raises his palms. “I’ve got two hands to rub it in if you’d like the assistance. I promise to be a good boy—and even clip your top back together since it seems like you’re having trouble.”
The thought of his hands on me sends unexpected shivers down my spine. Shivers in a heat wave. Ridiculous.
He must’ve seen the reaction, because I’m treated to a lopsided grin that turns into a full-blown smile when he yanks his sunglasses off, his eyes coming to my breasts with a delicious hunger I can’t help but notice. I’m two seconds away from accepting his offer. Until, of course, the universe decides to allow my straps to fall into place and clip together. Under his watchful eyes, I adjust my boobs so that the material is covering them—or, well, basically covering my nipples. Once settled, I lean back with my arms behind me, my palms down on my towel, hoping he can’t tell how flustered I am.
Except, when I look up, I see I’m not the only one flustered. His eyes rake over my entire body, racing, as if he can’t get enough of me and isn’t sure where he wants to look next. Heat rises over every inch of me.
It’s exactly as Sunny said. In this suit, he’d want to devour me. By the look on his face, I can tell she’s right.
“Damn, babe. Never thought you’d top the way those shorts hugged your ass last night, but this?” he says, using his glasses to wave up and down my body. “It’s a sight I’ll never forget.”
“Oh, really? Because you literally just saw my boobs, so if you think they look better covered, I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
His jaw ticks, and hot eyes meet mine. “You covered up is a gorgeous thing.” He pauses. “Only if it means I’m the one who gets to unwrap you later.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
Knox draws his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes performing one more pass of me from head to toe.
I don’t melt under his scrutiny. I don’t. And if I do, even just a little bit, it’s like he said: the heat. It’s messing with my senses.
I brush an errant piece of sand off my belly and then take a long swig of water, pushing my heart-shaped sunglasses up, even though I really want to push them down to the end of my nose and ogle the man standing before me. Something tells me he’s used to that, so I fight for indifference.
And I fail by inadvertently sucking in my bottom lip while my eyes take in the sight of him.
He’s impossibly more gorgeous in the bright sunlight than he was in the dimly lit bar. Not that I’m surprised.
I knew from the way his white T-shirt fit snugly against his torso that he was built. But I had no idea just how much sculpted muscle was hiding beneath the fabric. I’m grateful for the darkness of my glasses as I take in the whole utterly masculine package on display before me. Thank the Lord for male bathing fashion.
I memorize the hard planes and contours of his rock-hard chest, the tightness of his abdomen, and the muscles rippling down his arms. A narrow waist leads to lean hips with steely thighs corded with strength. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a male specimen quite so built like him that wasn’t too overdone the way some bodybuilders are. I have the urge to run my fingers over every inch of him.
Another glob of goo hits my chests, breaking me from my spell. The cocky smirk on his face tells me Knox knows precisely what I’ve been doing behind my sunglasses, but he doesn’t call me on it.
“I believe someone once said, ‘There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to burn yours.’” A wicked grin spreads his full lips, and I momentarily wonder about those lips on said perfect breasts. Though I’ve never thought mine were perfect. “Not to mention, there’s a heat wave going on, babe, and I thought maybe you could use a little cooling off.”
As if this man would ever have the power to do anything to me but make me even hotter than the scorching temperatures.
“I believe that quote is, ‘It would be a pity to damage yours,’” I inform him, ignoring the butterflies flitting about in my belly.
He gives a bow that I imagine would be very Westley-like. “Forgive me, Highness, for I was paraphrasing.”
I lift up to study him, relishing the way the sun gives him an almost golden appearance. I’m dying to run my hands through his messy, dark hair. Bright eyes shine as he gives me a once over, and I’m not sure whether to thank Sunny or try to cover up with a towel. The way those eyes peruse my body has me leaning towards gratitude.
“You’ve read Goldman?” I ask, growing ever more curious about this man.
“Mom’s orders.”
“Something tells me you don’t often follow orders from others.”