New York Billionaires Series

“Hesitating makes it worse.”

“True. But maybe this is something we should do in, like, the Cayman Islands?”

Anthony snorts. “It’ll feel better in a bit.”

“You’re saying we have to be in the water for a while?”

“Long enough to really merit checking this off on your bucket list.”

I cross my arms over my chest as we wade deeper. No bikini top there, no, only my skin, reminding me just how naked I am. A quick glance down confirms what I already know. My nipples are hard from the chill of the water.

I don’t dare look his way until we’re waist deep.

Anthony groans. “Fuck, you’re right. Cayman Islands it is.”

“Too late. We’re going to be swimming for a while.” I brace my feet against the sandy ocean floor and in a smooth motion, I dive clear through the icy surface.

The water is dark and salty around me as I kick forward, a cold rush against my senses. I surface with a gasp. “Holy shit!”

“You’re committed,” Anthony calls.

I laugh, kicking water. The ocean is soft against my skin. Unhindered by a swimsuit, I feel completely submerged, one with the water. “It’s nice when you get used to it!”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

He mutters something and steps further into the water. Moonlight outlines the strong lines of his shoulders rising from the water’s surface.

“Have you done this before?” I ask.

“Swum naked?”

“Sure, but it was a long time ago,” he says.

I turn onto my back and float, taking in the stars in the sky above. Tiny pinpricks of light that stretch as far as the eye can see.

“You can’t see me?” I ask. Adrenaline runs through my body, making my veins burn.

“No.” Anthony’s deep voice carries across the water. I cross the ocean floor to where he’s standing. A soft current plays with my legs, too weak to do anything but tease.

“But you can touch me,” I say.

“Summer?”

I find his hand, resting on the water’s surface. It flips over and grips mine. “Summer…”

“Yes?” My toes bury themselves in the sand as I reach up and press my lips to his. Anthony kisses me back, lips opening mine, his free hand slicing through the water to find the curve of my waist.

He pulls me close.

The length of his bare body against mine feels electric, a shot straight to my nervous system.

His fingers dig into the skin of my waist, as if they’re struggling to stay there. Mine know no such restraints as I explore his chest, shoulders, the nape of his neck.

A groan escapes him as I rake my nails through his hair. “Summer, we…”

“I want you.”

He kisses me again, the force of it bending me backwards through the water. His hands lose their restraint and slide down to grip my ass, pulling me up tight against him.

My awareness drops to the hard length of him trapped between our bodies. It feels hot against my skin, despite the chill of the water. One of his hands trails up the side of my body and cups my breast, a thumb flicking over my nipple.

I hold on to his shoulders and jump up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He supports me, strong arms beneath my thighs. Clad in nothing but seawater and moonlight, pressed so tightly together I can feel the beating of his heart, our bodies learn one another.

“Summer,” he murmurs. Bends his head to mine and kisses me with reverence.

I don’t know when I first register the chilly wind on my lower back, or when the cold water on my thighs is replaced by night air. I only know that when he raises his head from mine we’re no longer in the water.

He’s carried me onto the shore.

“Let’s go inside,” Anthony murmurs.

I slide down his body and find my footing on the sand. He groans at the friction, his hardness clear to my night-adjusted eyes. My mouth feels dry and my heart full.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”

I bend to scoop up our clothing and walk toward the house. I’m halfway up the steps before I turn and see him, standing by the base of the stairs. Turned too much to the left.

My own idiocy leaves me shamed. In the darkness, he can’t make out the first step.

“Here,” I murmur and take his hand.

His jaw works but he says nothing, finding his footing. Letting me draw him toward the patio doors and the living room. My heart aches, then, with want and tenderness for him. I reach for the living room lights and turn them on.

Anthony shuts the patio door behind us and turns to look at me.

I feel electrified beneath his burning gaze, taking all of me in. He looks like an ancient general, a conquering hero returned from sea, a man who needs with every breath he takes. His body is the tall, strong form of a man who uses it for work. Chest hair. Strong thighs. Rugged features that I’d once considered plain.

How had I been so blind?

“You still want me,” he says. It’s a statement and a question, evident in the lines of his body and the way he’s holding himself back.

Had he thought I wouldn’t, after he’d told me about his vision? Had he thought I would turn him away?

“Yes. So much.”

He reaches out and takes a strand of my wet hair between his fingers. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“No, I won’t,” I whisper. “I go to bed with wet hair all the time.”

Anthony’s lips curve. “In that case…”