“But that’s the thing about bad ideas.” He dipped his head, and her eyes followed the movement.
“And what’s that exactly?” she asked breathlessly.
“Bad ideas are usually the best ones.” The words were said against her mouth, and when he felt her body loosen and curve into his, when he felt her surrender, he slid his lips over hers and kissed Poppy Fairbanks the way a woman should be kissed. It was a slow-moving experiment, a bit of taste and touch that gathered momentum as she stopped treading water and her legs slowly wrapped themselves around his waist. He deepened the kiss, one arm around her body, the other hand sunk into her hair to hold her steady, and it was a good, long run before they came up for air. And when that happened, he kissed her again. He nibbled along her jaw to that spot behind her ear, the one he remembered from before, and smiled against her skin when she moaned as he pressed his lips there.
Kissing Poppy was like coming home to something he didn’t know he’d missed until he did. She felt perfect in his arms and tasted even better. Her hands explored his chest and shoulders, and he kissed her until things got interesting. His cock was engorged to the point of discomfort. Boone tore his mouth away, but the little minx wasn’t having it. She settled herself directly over him, her softness pressed into his hard body. He put his hands on her hips, trying like hell not to lose it when all he wanted to do was remove the bikini bottom that stood between him and paradise, and sink into all that softness.
He exhaled and stared down at her bruised mouth, then glanced over his shoulder when he heard shouts from down the beach. No one could see them—they were hidden from view by the boathouse—but it made him aware of just how close to the edge they were.
“We shouldn’t do this,” Poppy said, the words dropping like stones between them. She was just as aroused and worked up as he was, and as she spoke, she moved her hips, gyrating until he winced from pleasure and pain.
“And yet here we are,” he said roughly, moving them past a jut of trees and branches that fell out into the lake until they were completely hidden from anyone who ventured around the boathouse onto the dock. He thought he was going to lose his mind when she tugged on each side of her top exposing her breasts. And when she groaned as he claimed a nipple and suckled at her, he smiled wickedly, on fire with the need to give.
“Jesus, Boone, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she said, moving her hips again until he tore his mouth from her and swore.
“Are we?” he managed to get out.
“Can anyone see us?”
“No.” At least, he didn’t think so. He was about to suggest they stop—because he was that guy, the good one who knew somewhere deep inside that this thing they were about to do would change everything, and they hadn’t even started to repair the past. But Poppy had other plans, and she grabbed his shoulders and squirmed against him, claiming his mouth before he could say a word. They clung to each other, kissing, touching, and teasing—skin sliding over skin—and when he thought he would lose his mind, she reached down and tugged at his swim trunks. Before he could stop her, she had him in her hands, and he was a goner.
“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes closed as she stroked him long and slow, with just enough pressure to make him see stars. When she wiggled out of her bikini bottoms, he didn’t stop her, and when she sank onto him, he literally lost his mind.
She sighed, her body tight around him as she began to move, her fingers dug into his shoulders.
“Poppy,” he groaned into her neck, holding her close, hands on her hips as they rocked into each other in this secluded spot just beyond the dock. The sensation of water on heated naked skin only heightened his pleasure, and he nuzzled her, eyes shut as the most exquisite feeling flooded his body. “This is gonna be fast,” he managed to say raggedly. “I can’t hold back…”
“Good.” She grabbed his mouth and kissed away anything else he had to say. She tightened even more and groaned into him. His climax erupted from deep inside, flooding him with an animalistic heat. If he wasn’t holding on for dear life, he might have pounded his chest like a Neanderthal.
They came together, two heaving bodies and quivering limbs. Boone cradled her against him as he struggled to stay up on legs that had turned to noodles. He wasn’t sure how long she sat in the shelter of his arms, his cock still buried deep inside her, but it was long enough for him to harden again and want more.
“That was…” He didn’t have the words. Hot? Amazing? Didn’t seem to cut it. Had it been like this before? He couldn’t remember, but then hell, he couldn’t think straight.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” she whispered hoarsely. “And no protection. Jesus, we were smarter back in the day.”
“Hey, I’m clean if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Poppy didn’t say another word. She slid from him and turned away to adjust her bathing suit top. She grabbed her bottoms which floated a few feet away and slipped them back on. She looked over her shoulder and swam a few yards in front of Boone. He waited for her to say something else, but her expression was unreadable. Then she turned and kicked out her feet, and seconds later, disappeared around the mess of branches and trees that kept them hidden.
It took a bit, but eventually, his dick relaxed, and he cooled down. He headed back to the empty dock but took his time, trying to figure out what this meant. He hauled himself up and, with a look back at the water, shook his head. What the hell had just happened? When was the last time he’d lost control like that? He felt like a horny teenager again. And truthfully? Being an adult was overrated. He kind of like feeling this way.
He walked around the boathouse and immediately spied Benji sitting with Tawny over by the swing set. They each had a plate of food. Benji’s face was covered in kernels from the corn on the cob he was making his way through. The little guy was having the time of his life. Feeling a little guilty for leaving him alone, Boone started toward them.
“Where have you been?” Blue appeared from nowhere.
Boone kept his sights on his son. “Around,” he replied lightly.
Blue raised an eyebrow and glanced back toward the boathouse. “Huh.”
He glanced her way and saw the knowledge in her eyes.
“One thing, Boone.” She put her hand on his arm and stopped him in his tracks. “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt because Cam says you’re a good guy. I even put in a good word with Poppy because I think you and she need to work through some stuff.” Her smile held a touch of winter. “But make no mistake. If you hurt her again, I’ll come for you.” She leaned closer and whispered, “And one more thing. You might want to throw on a T-shirt, because you’ve got claw marks down your shoulders and back.”
Chapter Nine
Poppy stared at her reflection in the mirror, at the bruised lips, the wild eyes, and the heated blush that stained her cheeks a deep rose. She angled her head and bit her lip in horror when she spied the whisker burn along her jaw and a small red patch of skin near her collarbone where Boone had nipped her.
“Jesus,” she muttered, slamming her eyes shut, anything to avoid the evidence. She’d jumped out of the lake and darted around the house, hoping like hell no one saw her, and was now holed up in the basement bathroom like an idiot because she had no clue where to go from here.