His smile faded. The easy camaraderie drifted away, and the energy shifted, kicking into high awareness. He stiffened, his sharp gaze raking across her face, probing for answers. “Avery?” he whispered.
“You’re different like this,” she said softly.
His jaw clenched. “I’m the same. I just don’t get to show this part.”
Her hand seemed to move on its own, reaching up to touch his biceps, her fingers trailing over the hard-muscled length in an exploratory caress. “I like it.”
He sucked in his breath.
A thrill coursed through her at his obvious arousal. She leaned in a few more inches, raising up on her tiptoes. Their gazes locked.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know.” The night surrounded her, and the ocean roared, and his scent filled her head, musk and male and spice. Her insides clenched with a longing. He gripped her upper arms and stared down at her. Blistering heat seethed between them, and a drunken headiness made her body soft and pliable, leaning into his strength.
“I think you do.” His breath raked over her trembling lips. “I’m way past the age of impulsive decisions and late regrets.”
Avery licked her lips. “Maybe we both need to relax our standards.”
His palm cupped under her chin, holding her still, and he muttered a soft curse. “Maybe you’re right. God knows I’m no damn saint. And right now, I want this more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.”
His mouth covered hers.
The shocking heat and softness of his lips rocketed through her. From the first moment, he was in control of the kiss, sipping from her mouth like tasting a fine wine, savoring her texture and flavor with a leisurely pace that throbbed with an undercurrent of ferocity. His arm slinked around her waist to pull her up and close, his body flush with hers so every muscle pressed against her curves.
She opened her mouth in invitation, and his tongue slipped inside, each slow, silky thrust causing her toes to curl in the sand. A moan rose from her throat, and he captured and swallowed it while he explored and conquered every secret crevice.
Her head spun. She clung to him, helpless under the sensual mastery of his mouth and lips and tongue, her body craving more. Her fingers thrust into his hair, and her hips arched, the thick, hard length of his arousal against her inner thigh. He took the kiss deeper, devouring her with a raw hunger that made a matching need explode within and scatter through every cell of her body.
“You taste so good,” he muttered against her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip. His hands moved to stroke her body, cupping her buttocks to lift and hold her tight.
“So do you.”
“I want more.”
“Take it,” she breathed against him, the madness of lust edged into her voice.
He groaned, kissing her again, and hooked his fingers inside her jeans, caressing her through the thin silk of her panties. His touch burned, and she shuddered. Her core dampened and ached for his fingers, mouth, cock, and she dug her fingernails into his shoulders with a punishing fierceness. He ripped his mouth away, breathing hard, then ran his tongue down her neck, nibbling, sucking, driving her mad until his teeth sank in and she cried out.
The waves crashed and roared. The stars dripped like thick honey from the sky. And the night urged all her inhibitions to fall away under the wickedness of his hands and mouth on her body. He tugged on her shirt, edged the lace of her bra down with his teeth, and sucked on her nipple.
She ground out his name the same time she ground her hips against his, looking for relief. He murmured dark, sexy words as he pleasured her breast, and she wrapped her arms tight around him, urging him down to the sand.
She didn’t register the flash of light until it was too late. The bright beam lasered over her face and into her eyes, startling her out of the sensual fog. Carter immediately placed her behind him, his large body blocking her from the intruder.
It was only when she heard the voice that she realized she was in big trouble.
“Sir, ma’am, the beach is closed after hours. The sign is clearly posted.”
Oh. My. God. She was going to die.
Carter sounded calm, not as if he’d just gotten caught making out on the beach illegally like some horny teen. “I’m sorry, Officer. Our mistake. We just wanted to take a quiet walk. We’ll leave now.”
Avery ducked her head low as Carter took her hand and began leading her toward the police officer.
“We have rules for a reason,” the policeman said in a thick Jersey accent, his tone registering disapproval. “There’s been drownings at the beach at night, and we want to keep our people safe.”
“I understand.”
Crap, crap, crap . . .
She stumbled over the sand. The light wavered and came to focus on her full force, and it was all over.
“Avery?”
Slowly, she raised her head. She wondered how bad she looked—with her lips swollen, hair wind-tossed, and her eyes still glassy from the kiss that was so much more than a kiss. “Hi, Ron.”
Ron Livery looked a bit like Ed Sheeran. He had a baby face, short red hair, and a jovial personality. They’d grown up together, and he was now a full-time police officer in Cape May. He was also a terrible gossip and loved spending aimless hours sharing stories with the tourists at the cafés. He was literally one of the worst people to catch her making out on the beach with a stranger.
“I can’t believe it’s you! Darlin’, you know better than to be out here at this hour. Wait—are you here of your own free will?” he suddenly asked, his gaze sharpening on Carter with suspicion.
“Yes! Um, we finished dinner, and it was such a pretty night, I figured no one would notice if we took a quick walk. This is Carter, by the way.”
Ron glanced back and forth between them. A slow grin transformed his face. “Yeah, sure, I get it. A walk, huh?” He laughed and shook his head. Her cheeks burned, but she knew there was worse to come. “Are you a weekend visitor, Carter?”
And let the torture begin . . .
“My sister is getting married, and Avery is the wedding planner,” he answered. “I’m here for the summer.”
“The whole summer, huh?” Was that a wink or a trick of the light? “Where are you staying?”
She cleared her throat. “Um, Ron, we should get going. It’s getting late.”
“Sure, sure. So where are you staying?”
“Jackson. It’s a beach cottage by—”
“The Virginia Cottages. Yep, I know it. Which color? Pink?”
“No, white.”
“Nice. Love the views. Where’d you go to dinner?”
Avery wanted to scream in frustration. “Peter Shields.” She tried to walk a few steps and urge Carter ahead, but Ron just crossed his arms in front of his chest, his uniform neat and pressed and all official-looking.
“Wow, nice place. Fancy. You like the food?”
She caught the amused lift of his lip. Great, he thought this whole exchange was funny. Sometimes she hated small towns.
“It was excellent. We had crabby balls.”
A sudden silence descended.
Then Ron burst out laughing. “Crabby balls, huh? Son of a bitch, that’s funny. Well, come on, let me escort you back so you kids don’t get into further trouble.”