Luke catches my eye, and I know what he’s trying to say. Together, we gulp deep breaths and kick beneath the surface. He leads me around the boat’s perimeter, pointing out a plaque on the ocean floor that commemorates the wreck. I drag an index finger across the sandy bottom, tracing our initials. Around us, cobalt and chartreuse fish glide from bow to stern. I hold my breath until it feels like my body’s going to explode, then kick to the surface and blow the saltwater from my snorkel.
Luke rises soon after me, then tears off his mask and lifts his head above water. I do the same.
“Pretty cool, huh?” He tosses his head to one side, sending his wet curls flying.
“Definitely,” I gasp. “Beautiful.”
“I think that’s what I like about it—how it’s like this broken thing that still manages to be amazing in its own way, you know? Like a message—there’s life after the wreck.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I can feel tears gathering. I hold my breath and let myself fall beneath the water line, allowing a few tears to slip out before I resurface.
“Tired? Out of breath? Need to tug your ear?” he teases, pushing my bangs off my forehead.
“Never!” I shriek, even though my legs are starting to ache.
“Come here.” Luke reaches for me, his strong arms encircling my waist. I can feel his legs churning beneath the surface. I drape my arms over his shoulders and wrap my legs around his torso. Our bodies rise and fall together in the water, our lips close.
Cupping the back of my neck with his palm, he lifts his mouth to my ear. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
I let my muscles go slack, let my body collapse against his. Even here, in the strange weightlessness of water, he is solid and strong, holding me up. My hands slip against his slick, wet body. Over his defined chest and arms, down his back. The man’s body is a work of art.
“Hold on,” Luke whispers before his mouth finds mine. This kiss is different from our first kiss. More urgent. He is everywhere, biting my lip, kissing my neck, his hot breath melting my skin in small patches. He holds me to him with one hand and roams my body with the other.
“Here.” I guide his hand over me, slipping it beneath my bikini top. Still kissing me, he traces my nipple with his fingertip, then pinches it just hard enough. I gasp, clawing at his back. My legs tighten around his waist. He pushes against me, and I can feel how impossibly hard he is. I’ve never been kissed like this, never been touched with the kind of hunger Luke has for me. It’s like he wants all of me. Everything. And I want to give it to him.
Somehow, we find our way back to shore and collapse breathless in the sand. The sun is almost directly overhead, searing the salt into my skin.
“You’re killing me, Elle,” Luke half moans, half laughs, stretching onto his back. “Although I have to say, it’d be a great way to go.”
“No kidding.” I drop next to him. Every nerve, every muscle in my body is still throbbing. I want to feel his weight on top of me, pressing me into the sand.
“Okay. Okay.” Luke rubs his face with his hands. “As much as I want to just… do… literally everything to you right here, right now, I have the feeling that the small children over there would not appreciate that.” He smacks the sand with an open palm.
“Huh?” I bolt upright and scan the beach. Not far away, a man and a woman are building sandcastles at the edge of the water with two small, tow-headed children. “Ugh.”
“You know what they say. Good things come to those who wait.”
“No, I think the more appropriate expression is: the family that plays together… ruins our perfectly good afternoon.”
Luke laughs, a deep belly laugh that sparks something warm in me. Then he rolls onto his side. “So I guess the next best thing would be lunch. You hungry?”
“Starving.” I hop up and towel-dry my hair while Luke unpacks a picnic lunch: green glass bottles of sparkling water, cuban sandwiches wrapped in thin white paper, and fat green grapes. The water is so cold it’s almost frozen. I chug most of the bottle.
“Careful,” Luke warns.
“What?” I feel a rumbling in my belly, and before I can stop it, emit a burp so loud, one of the kids turns to stare in admiration. “’Scuze me.”
“God, you’re sexy,” Luke deadpans.
“Oh, stop, you.” Playfully, I flick my layers over my shoulder.
“So...” Luke takes a huge bite of sandwich. It takes him a full thirty seconds to chew and swallow. “How’s Miami different from New York? I’ve never been up there.”