What had she gotten herself into?
His voice sounded strangled in his throat when he said, “You swear to God that you’re not married.”
She shook her head in the dark, her hair swishing around her neck and shoulders. “I’m not married. I’ve never been married.”
His arm withdrew from her waist and stroked down her arm to find her hand. He led her backward, almost like dancing, until he turned them both and pressed her shoulder to make her sit down.
In the dark, he had somehow found one of the chaise lounges, and Rox sat on the thick cushion.
Wait, did he want to get frisky out here on the deck, lying on one of the reclining deck chairs? She wasn’t even sure how to do that. The deck chairs were strong, probably teak, but she needed a wide bed for her chubby butt.
No way. Someone might see them, even though the other houses were far away. Someone might fly over in a helicopter or something. “Cash, let’s go inside.”
“Let’s stay here.” His voice was deeper, hoarser. “The sun won’t be up for hours.”
There was, truly, no light. The fishhook moon was sinking into the ocean, darkening the sky and deck even more.
The night around them was very dark. They wouldn’t be able to see each other at all.
She knew that he wasn’t shy about his body, at least the upper half of it that he showed off during impromptu basketball games on the roof of the parking structure. Those black tattoos that licked up his side weren’t meant to be hidden. And he had no reason to be coy about what was in his pants, either. Good gravy, when she had unzipped him the night before, she had never seen one so big before. Or thick.
The solid darkness around them almost made her dizzy, and she spread her hands on the cushion of the chaise lounge to orient herself.
Warm flesh closed around her ankle, and Cash moved her leg to the other side of the chaise lounge so that she straddled the chair.
Under her legs, the cushion sank, and she could feel Cash sit down across from her. His hands closed around her face, and his lips touched hers, gently kissing her. He stroked her legs again, lifting them, and positioned her knees over his thighs. His hands explored her hips, petting and grasping her legs through her fuzzy pajamas while he kissed her. His lips caressed hers, gently waiting while she responded, while his hands explored her body in the dark.
Rox could barely feel herself breathing, and she reached to run her hands from his wrists, over the ropes of muscle around his arms, and up to his broad shoulders. She was as blind as if she had a hood over her head.
“I can’t see you.” Her fingers trailed up his neck.
He caught her hand and kissed her palm, his lips warm against her hand. “You don’t need to.”
The surf crashed and roared far below them, and salt spray misted the air.
He pressed her hand to his chest. Under his thin tee shirt, his heavy muscles warmed her fingers, and she could feel his heart thumping fast inside.
His fingers moved up her ribs, almost tickling, and then dipped underneath her pajama top to touch her skin. She sucked a breath in when his cool fingers touched her, but he pressed his hands to her sides. His hands were warmer, and he pushed her pajama top up, stripping it off over her head.
Rox looked around again, but the darkness was only broken by the glitter of stars overhead and their very faint light. With the moon fully down now, she could barely see the two slants of Cash’s cheekbones and the center ridge of his nose. He was almost a dark cutout against the starry sky.
He traced down her shoulders, finding the swells of her breasts, and she heard him hum for a moment as he ran his fingertips over the lace on top and the silk on the bottom of the cups.
Cash said, “I can hardly wait to see this.”
“We could go inside,” she said, but her knees were weak from his hands on her. She probably couldn’t have stood up anyway. “You could see it now.”
“Next time,” he murmured. “I can almost see it. What color is it?”
“Black silk. Ivory lace.” Her voice sounded breathy.
“Oh, God,” he groaned. One of his hands slipped around her boob, and the other nudged her shoulder, pushing her back against the raised back of the chaise lounge.
As she reclined, he leaned with her, nuzzling her breasts through the lace, his warm breath and hot tongue on her. His tee shirt brushed her stomach, and Rox grabbed the soft cotton, pulling it up and over his head. She threw it aside, near where she hoped he had thrown her top. Warmth flowed over her, his body radiating heat.
He ducked his head back down to her breasts and slid his hand behind her, releasing her bra and adding it to the unseen pile beside them.
Without her bra, he opened his mouth and sucked at her breasts, mouthing her, biting, then licking her to soothe the sting. In minutes, she was squirming, panting, but his body was between her legs and she already couldn’t get away from him.