“I heard every tattoo has a story. Does yours?”
His hand covers mine, but instead of pressing it to his heart like I want, he pulls it away. “I was drunk.”
“Oh.”
“You sound disappointed.” His dark blue eyes search my face, but I have no idea what he’s looking for—judgment or acceptance?
“Just curious.” I’ve given him neither, I think.
Dropping my gaze back to his muscular chest, I bring both our hands to a Grim Reaper. Whoever the artist was, he knew how to draw emotion, because just looking at it makes me feel the angry vibes. The colors are dark, black, red, and navy. “Was this one when you were drunk, too?”
“I thought you wanted me to teach you how to swim?” he snaps, but I don’t take offense. I know the answer a question with a question game by now. It means I’m too close to the truth, and he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to share it with me. I can’t blame him though. I haven’t shared all my truths with him.
“Being vulnerable doesn’t make you weak,” I say softly, bringing my gaze back to his face. I’m struck by the underlying vulnerability that actually lurks beneath the surface.
He blinks, dark lashes fanning over sharp cheekbones, and the vulnerability disappears, replaced by his usual cockiness.
“For you it doesn’t.” He tugs on my arm and I fall against him, wet skin to wet skin. His fingers travel down my spine, gently touching each vertebra, and I soak in the feeling. “God, you’re soft.”
“Swimming lessons?” I remind him, and myself. I could stand here all day and let him touch me.
“Give me a minute.” He steps back and turns around. I watch his shoulders rise and fall. His back is broad and defined with muscles, just like his arms. “Do you know how to float?”
Instead of answering him, I lay back and let my legs rise. The cool air washes over my skin and makes my nipples hard. Goosebumps appear, and I shiver.
He turns and mutters a curse. “Come here.”
Grinning, I look up at the sky and say, “Can’t. I’m too busy floating.”
Suddenly, his hands are on me and he’s lifting me up. I wrap my arms and legs around him. Warm water is replaced by cool air, and then he’s laying me down on a pile of towels.
He looms over me, his broad shoulders blocking the sun. “You’re a tease, Bliss Morgan.”
It thrills me to no end for him to call me that. “Am not,” I protest, then I arch my back and stretch my arms over my head, twisting my hands together. Immediately, one of his hands clamps over my wrists.
“Know what happens to teases?”
“Why don’t you show me?” I peer at him through my lashes, something I noticed other girls do when they were flirting.
His eyes darken. Must be working, I think, right before his mouth comes crashing down on mine.
Chapter Fourteen
Jackson
I lift my head, dizzy from kissing her.
With my free hand, I tug at the ties on her bathing suit, and she lifts her hips. Down her legs it goes, and I groan at the sight of her nude body.
She spreads her thighs wide, giving me a view of pink, wet flesh. “Are you going to kiss me down there again?”
“Down where?” I take my finger and run it down the center of her stomach, stopping right above her dark curls. “Here?”
“Lower,” she gasps.
“You want me to lick that pretty little pussy of yours?” I murmur. “The last time I did that, you purred for me.” I let my finger edge closer, and her hips lift. “Ah, ah. Do you want me to or not?”
“Yes.”
Smiling wickedly, I lower my mouth, using my fingers to spread her apart. The first swipe of my tongue has her crying out my name. The second has her hips jerking against me. I’m so hard right now that I’m ready to tear off my board shorts and shove my dick inside of her.
I let go of her wrists, and her hands get all tangled up in my hair. She writhes under me, gasping my name and moaning. I peer up at her, watching as the sun shines on her body. Her nipples are tight, begging for my attention.
Reaching up, I pinch one, and then the other. Bliss screams. Then her hands are on my shoulders, urging me to her. She wraps her legs around my waist, her tongue pushing inside my mouth. Somehow, she manages to shove my shorts down, and my cock brushes against her.
She moans, her hands going to my dick and putting it right where I want it to be. Well, almost.
“In me… I want you in me,” she gasps in my ear.
“I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on the pill… during the tour.” Her head falls back. “Health benefits.”
Closing my eyes, I exhale. “Are you sure?”