“I know. But we still have two more days of hanging out together, and I don’t want it to be awkward.”
“I should have considered the couples-only thing a little more carefully. But I guess I just wanted to spend some time with you.”
She’d had a crush on him for a long time. If she slept with him, would it get better or worse? She honestly didn’t know. “I need to go.” Before she did something crazy.
He waited while she unlocked her door. The key wasn’t the electric card kind. It was the old-fashioned, fit-in-the-hole type. She struggled to make it work, but only because her hands were shaking.
“Do you need help?” he asked.
“No, I’ve got it.” She finally managed. “Good night, Jake.”
“Night, Carol.”
She went into her room and closed the door, her pulse skittering, her emotions hanging in the balance. She flipped on the light, feeling more alone than ever.
And wishing that he was there with her.
Carol didn’t get ready for bed. She didn’t get undressed. She didn’t do anything, except battle her hunger for Jake.
Was Lena right in what she’d said? Was life too short not to go after what you wanted? Carol was beginning to think so. Or her libido certainly was.
But could she actually go through with it? And what about Jake—was he still willing? Or had he come to his senses?
She touched a finger to her lips, recalling the taste of his kisses. Should she text Jake to see how he was faring? And if she did, what should she say?
Something honest, she decided. Something to remind him that she was on the other side of those double doors.
Right. As if he was likely to forget.
She retrieved her phone and typed, Can’t stop thinking about you. Then, with her heart in her throat, she hit the send button. At least she was facing her feelings.
She waited, hoping he was near his phone and hoping she’d done the right thing. She didn’t have to wait long.
He answered, Me, too. About u.
Bubbling up inside, she felt like a teenager conversing with her longtime crush. She hastily wrote, Don’t know what to do about it.
He replied, Are u in bed?
No. Still in my clothes.
So am I. Except my shirt.
Carol imagined how he looked, bare-chested and tousled from the beach, tapping out intimate little things to her.
This is weird, she texted him.
I know. Really weird. But I like it.
Me, too. Sort of seems like we’re sexting.
Yeah, it does. A second later, he asked, If I invited u to my room, would u come over?
Her pulse jumped. But just to be sure that he meant what he said, she inquired, Do you want me to come over for real? Or are we only fantasizing about it?
He popped off a quick, Yes, I want u to come over. For real.
She released the breath in her lungs and replied, Give me a few minutes.
To think about it?
To come over. She didn’t want to keep thinking about it. She just wanted to be with him.
He wrote, Excited to see u.
She was excited, too. And she wanted to look refreshed, to comb her hair and reapply her lipstick.
Before this went any further, she asked, Do you have what we’ll need? They couldn’t do this without protection.
Yes, he told her. It’s not a problem.
Then I’ll be there soon, she wrote.
I’ll be waiting, he replied.
Unlock the door on your side, she reminded him.
I will came his reply.
If Carol was the brazen sort, she would untie the front of her dress, take a seductive selfie and send it to him. But she wasn’t that kind of girl. Already, she was stepping outside of her comfort zone. But she wasn’t going to back out. She was going through with this, no matter how nervous she was.
She went into the bathroom to freshen up, warning herself to relax. Not that it would change anything. Calm or nervous. Shy or bold. She was going to make love with her boss.
And she needed to be with Jake tonight. She needed to finish what they’d started at the beach, to feel his aroused body next to hers, to kiss him with unbridled lust, to rake her nails down his back.
Once she looked presentable, Carol walked over to the doors that divided them. A few breathless beats later, she crossed the threshold.
Jake was waiting for her, just as he said he would be. He looked tall and dark and stunning: wearing no shirt, no shoes, just his trousers. By now, she was barefoot, too.
Their gazes met, and he smiled, as if he was about to commit a secret little crime.
But he was, wasn’t he?
Mesmerized, she moved closer. There were so many facets to that smile, so many ways in which it defined him.
“What kind of trouble did you get into?” she asked, reaching out to skim his jaw, her fingers igniting from the feeling.
He leaned into her touch. “What are you talking about?”
“When you were young,” she explained.
He shrugged, lifting his shoulders, as if he were knocking the weight of her curiosity off them. “The usual.”
To her, there was nothing usual about getting into trouble. She’d done everything in her power to toe the line, to be the kind of kid who didn’t make waves. “Did you ever do anything really bad?”
“What do you mean? Like break the law?”
She nodded and waited for him to reply. She couldn’t begin to guess if he had a juvenile record. At the moment, all she knew was how dangerous he still seemed, all grown-up.
“Yes,” he said. “I got caught once.”
“Doing what?”
“It isn’t important now.”
“It is to me.” To understand the boy he once was, to make love with the sexually charged man he’d become.
He took her in his arms. “We can talk about it later.”
He was right. This wasn’t the time to discuss it. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the sweet flutter of letting him hold her.
Then Jake ruggedly whispered, “I want to strip you. Tell me I can. Tell me to do it.”
With a jolt of excitement, she opened her eyes and looked into his. “Yes, do it. As fast as you want.”
He didn’t hurry, even if she’d just given him permission. Ever so gently, he removed the body veil that was draped around her dress. The fabric fell away, drifting to the floor. He continued his quest, untying the sarong. As he unwrapped the dress, she struggled to steady herself.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You won’t fall. I’ve got you.”
She was already falling, tumbling into a highly forbidden zone. He tossed her sarong over a chair, and Carol did her darnedest not to feel self-conscious, even if she was wearing nothing but a pair