The first thing he saw as he approached the beach access was Lizzie’s small blue hatchback parked carefully off the road. He didn’t know whether to be glad or annoyed she was here. The more he saw of her, the more he was perturbed by his attraction to her. That group hug the night before had tested his endurance. Having Lizzie back in his arms—well, half of Lizzie considering the nature of a group hug—had brought desire for her rushing back in a major way. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since.
For a long moment he left the engine idling. Go or stay?
No contest, he thought as he killed the engine. It wasn’t a good idea for Lizzie to be swimming by herself. Not at Silver Gull with its dangerous rip undertow that could pull an unwary swimmer out to sea. He needed to keep an eye on her, keep her safe. He zipped himself into his wetsuit, grabbed a towel and headed towards the sand dunes that bordered the southern end of the beach.
As he’d thought, there wasn’t another soul there. Almost straight away he saw Lizzie on the sand halfway between where the gum trees grew down to the edge of the beach and where the small breaking waves swirled up onto the sand in lacy white foam. She was lying on her back on a bright pink towel, her lovely body covered only by a turquoise and white checked bikini. Her long slender limbs were stretched out in total relaxation, her pale hair loose and glinting like silver in the sunlight, an expression of bliss on her face.
Jesse clenched his fists by his sides and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. It would have been better if he’d kept on driving and gone to a different beach.
He could not deny there had been times since he’d met Lizzie that he had wondered how she looked under her clothes. But the reality of her in the skimpy bikini far surpassed any fantasy—her breasts high and round, her hips flaring gently, her body slender not skinny. She was perfect in every way. He couldn’t help but observe that she had certainly filled out since her teenage years.
He coughed to alert her to his presence, not wanting to be seen to stare at her for so long it could be perceived as untoward. Startled, she sat up quickly, looked up at him. She took off her sunglasses and then used her hand to shade her eyes, blinking to focus on him. ‘Jesse. You...you surprised me.’
He wasn’t sure whether it was shock or pleasure he saw in her eyes. ‘Catching some rays?’ he asked, trying to sound casual when all he could think about was how sexy she looked in that bikini. Of how, in fact, the design of a bikini didn’t so much cover up but draw attention.
‘I desperately need to get some colour,’ she said, stretching out her arms with unconscious grace. ‘Feeling the sun on my skin is heaven. There won’t be much beach time once the café opens.’
Already the smooth skin of her shoulders was tinged with gold. ‘Are you planning to swim?’ he asked.
She turned to look towards the water, calm, translucent, sparkling in the sunlight as far as the eye could see. ‘Just thinking about it now. The water looks so inviting.’
‘It will be very cold in.’
She indicated the beach bag to the left side of the towel. ‘I borrowed Sandy’s wetsuit.’
He gritted his teeth. ‘Might be an idea to put it on.’
‘I will soon. I’m enjoying—’
‘Put it on now, will you.’ His voice came out harsher than he had intended.
She frowned. ‘But—’
‘I can’t talk to you while you’re wearing that bikini.’ He spoke somewhere over her head, not trusting himself to look at her.
‘But it’s a modest bikini—’
‘It does nothing to hide what a beautiful body you have. That’s more than a guy who’s trying to be just friends can take.’
‘Oh,’ she said and blushed so the colour on her cheeks rivalled that of her towel.
He tossed her his navy striped towel. ‘Here. Cover up, will you.’
She caught the towel. ‘Sure. I didn’t think...’ She pulled his towel around her, twisting to tuck it into her bikini top between her breasts. Lucky towel. Then she went to get up from the sand.
Automatically, he offered her his hand to help her. For a long moment she just stared at it with an expression he couldn’t read. Then she put her narrow hand in his much larger one. He pulled her to her feet, unable to keep his eyes from how lovely she was.
She faced him, standing very still. She was tall, but he was taller and she had to look up to him, exposing her slender neck, her delicate throat where he could see a pulse throbbing. Their gazes locked. Her grey eyes seemed brighter, perhaps reflecting the blue of the sky and the sea. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured.
Jesse still held her hand and when she made no effort to free it he tightened his grip—now he had her so close he couldn’t bear to let her go. He noticed a few grains of sand sprinkled on her cheek, maybe from where she’d pushed her hair away from her face. Reluctant to let go of her hand, he used his other hand to gently wipe off the tiny grains from where they adhered to her smooth skin.
She closed her eyes with a flutter of long fair lashes and he could feel her tremble beneath his touch as his fingers then traced down her cheek towards her mouth. He traced the outline of her soft, lovely mouth with his fingers and now it was he who trembled with awareness and a stunned disbelief she wasn’t pushing him away.
Her lips parted just enough for her to breathe out a slow sigh and open her eyes. Jesse saw in them both wariness and desire. ‘Jesse, I...’ Whatever she might have been about to say faltered to nothing. She swayed towards him.
He dropped his hand and used it to take her other hand and pull her closer to him, so close he could feel the heat from her sun-warmed body. He pressed his mouth to hers in a soft questioning kiss—she gave him the answer he wanted with the pressure of her lips back on his. As he deepened the kiss he felt the same fierce surge of possessive hunger he’d felt the first time he’d kissed her. Had kissed her, then been parted from her through a stupid misunderstanding before he’d had the chance to think about what that flare of attraction between them could mean.
Six months between kisses and she tasted the same. Felt the same. And he wanted her just as much—more. She kissed him back with a fierce intensity that sent a surge of excitement pulsing through him. He dropped his hands so he could lock his arms around her. With a little murmur she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him close. The towel slid to the sand between them. ‘Leave it,’ he growled against her mouth then slanted and deepened the angle of his kiss.
The longing for her he’d been holding back overwhelmed him. All this platonic friendship stuff was bulldust as far as he was concerned. He’d wanted her from the time she’d first swept him up with her warmth and laughter, set him the challenge of that cool exterior and the promise of passion beneath. He slid his hands up her slender waist, skimmed her small, firm breasts as her heart thudded under his hand and she gasped under his mouth.
* * *
There were master chefs, master sommeliers, master chocolatiers—but Jesse was truly a master kisser, Lizzie mused, her thoughts barely coherent through a fizz of excitement. Delicious shivers of pleasure tingled across her skin as Jesse worked seductive magic with his lips and tongue. The scrape of the stubble on his chin was an exciting contrast to the softness of his mouth; the hard strength of his body to the tenderness of his hands on her bare skin. The last man to kiss her had been Jesse six months ago. The way he kissed her now was everything she’d remembered, everything that had excited her that night on the balcony and awoken needs she’d tried to deny.
She’d