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While he bit into the pastry, she watched him, anxious to have it back, to put her mouth where his had been.
“It’s good,” he said.
Too good, she thought when her turn came. They continued to pass it back and forth. Carol couldn’t deny that it felt like foreplay.
“What are we doing?” he asked when she finished the last bite.
“Something we shouldn’t be doing,” she replied. But it felt too incredible to stop.
As he leaned in to kiss her, she was thrilled, hungry for the taste of him. Their mouths came together in a burst of passion, their tongues meeting and mating.
When they stopped to catch their breaths, the candle flickered, its vanilla scent swirling around them. He took her plate off her lap, put it next to his and then moved in for the kill, nudging her down.
Again, she was too enthralled to stop him. She wanted him as close to her as possible.
He laid down on top of her, and they kissed like forbidden fiends, the sound of the ocean roaring in the distance. Carol’s dress fanned out beneath her, the body veil twisting up with the towel. Jake’s jacket was beneath her, too, where it had fallen off her shoulders.
He tasted like the pastry they’d shared. She probably tasted that way to him, too—sweet, sugary, filled with warmth and flavor.
She loved the weight of his body against hers, the hardness pressing down on her. Needing more, she wrapped her arms around him, trailing her hands along his spine, feeling the fabric of his shirt.
“I have fantasies about you clawing my back,” he said. “I’ve imagined all sorts of erotic things. Even biting you.” He nibbled at her ear, tugging on her lobe with his teeth. “I shouldn’t want you like this, but I do.”
“I shouldn’t want you, either.” She knew better. She was his employee. His assistant. The woman who was supposed to be so proper and composed.
His breath rushed out. “I’m so turned on right now.”
“So am I.” She could barely think straight.
Jake kissed her again, all rough and sexy and dark, his lips ravishing hers. Then he lifted his head and stared at her. Carol stared at him, too, her heart threatening to jump out of her skin.
Neither of them moved. If they kept going, they would end up naked in the sand, tearing each other apart.
Hot vanilla sex.
She wanted to be with him, but she couldn’t let it continue, not like this. She needed to catch her breath, to clear her mind, to behave like the rational person she was.
“We need to stop,” she said. Beneath her dress, her nipples were tingling, and her panties were sticking to her skin.
He sat up, his voice raspy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Carol sat forward as well, and grabbed his jacket from where it had fallen. She put it on, needing to cover up. “We both got carried away.”
He frowned in the candlelight. “We should go.”
She cuffed the too-long sleeves, trying to make the jacket fit her a little better. “Go where?”
“Back to our rooms. To call it a night.” His frown deepened. “Unless you want to return to the party.”
She cleared her plate and wrapped the uneaten food. “Goodness, no. I’d rather try to get some sleep.”
“Yeah, it’s probably getting late, anyway.” Jake dumped out the rest of the champagne and put the empty bottle back in the basket.
Together, they cleared the evidence of their picnic, but the memory of their kisses remained, warm and wild on her lips.
He squelched the flame on the candle, pressing it between his thumb and forefinger. A moment later, he tucked the Victorian poets next to the empty bottle.
They trailed across the sand, heading for the mansion.
Once they reached the main entrance, they put on their shoes and made their way to the second floor.
As they stood in the hallway outside their rooms, she said, “We’re here.” It was better than saying nothing.
He set the basket on the ground, but he didn’t respond.
In the silence, she attempted to smooth her mussed hair. She could still feel the excitement of lying beneath him. Was she an idiot for having stopped it?
“My key is in my jacket,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She removed the garment and handed it to him, hating to let it go. She liked being snuggled up in something that belonged to him.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Carol’s key was in her purse. She tried for a smile. “It was quite a night.”
He smiled, too. “It was, wasn’t it?”
She nodded, quietly confused. “I’ve never really had an affair,” she found herself saying. “I’ve only been with men I was involved with.”
“You don’t have to explain. I understand. That wasn’t even supposed to be an issue.”
“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.
Five (#udcea36ee-578b-5f8c-aeff-5caf22f1d965)
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.”
