Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology

He nuzzled against her wet hair. “Agreed. It feels like we’ve been chained to a schedule for months now.”


“We have been. I know I gave you shit about pushing for the honeymoon right now, but I’m glad you did.”

Deacon tucked his chin on her shoulder. “I think I need to mark this down on our calendar.”

“Don’t say calendar!”

“All right, all right. So how about we get dressed and go see the lay of the land. Then I can bring you back here, and you can cook for me.”

“Oh yeah? Can I?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to take that joy away from you.”

“What a guy.”

Deacon rose off the chair with her in his arms and tossed her on the bed. Her skin was still flushed from her shower and her summer hair a tumble of messy waves. But it was the pure happiness on her face that caught him like a left hook.

Wow. How long had it been since he’d actually seen that side of her in the last few weeks?

She rolled up on her knees, bright eyes moving into naked territory. He waggled his fingers. “Oh no, you cannot seduce me.”

One eyebrow slowly rose in question.

He turned away and headed for the shower. “No way.”

“Spoilsport!” she shouted after him.

“Hell yes.” Deacon looked down at his dick that was so on board with that plan. “You can play later.” Then turned on a cool stream of water.





Four





The Dance





Harper shoved her feet into flip flops as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun. The wind was kicking up off the shore, so it wasn’t worth trying to fuss with herself. Not when she’d be covered in sand in ten minutes anyway.

She adjusted the lemon yellow triangles of her bikini top as Deacon came out of the bathroom. His sharp green eyes followed every move of her hands. That heat sizzled under her skin again.

Wild and euphoric, she’d been binging on her husband for the last twelve hours. She should be more in control at this point, and yet…

She swallowed as he buttoned a linen shirt. She had the oddest sensation to go and climb on top of him, pushing that shirt out of the way so she could get to the miles of tan skin.

Cripes. What had gotten into her? She and Deacon had a healthy sex life since the beginning, but she was pretty sure she was going to go into a sex-induced coma if she went at him again this morning. She was sore and swollen at the same time.

Not a good combo.

She watched him replace his towel with a pair of board shorts and couldn’t disguise the smile when she saw the tight fit of the front placket. Her husband was just as buzzed on whatever was in the air here in Galveston.

She slid a crochet cover-up over her suit and cutoffs. “Ready to get a closer look at the coast?”

“Definitely.”

She held out her hand and tugged him toward the back door. The early afternoon sun warranted a pair of sunglasses and a quick dash across the hot sand to the coastline.

Deacon’s surefooted gait left her in the dust as usual, but instead of wandering ahead of her, he turned around and stripped off his shirt, tossing it on the sand.

Distracted by the whole chest to die for thing, she’d been too slow on the uptake. Deacon went into a half crouch and tucked her over his shoulder. He headed into the spray, dumping them both into the seaweed strewn water.

She screeched at the tangle of hairy seaweed, laughing when he dunked them once more. She came up sputtering and hanging off his shoulders. They splashed around in the water for a few minutes before they trudged back in against the mild undertow.

“I forgot about how much I hate seaweed,” she said, peeling the salt-caked waxy greens off her thigh.

He shook out his shirt and draped it over his shoulder. “If we head over to the public beach, it’s not as bad there.”

She tipped her head up at him, seeing the gleam in his gaze. “You want to take a run, don’t you?”

“Kinda.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a sickness, you know this, right?”

“The endorphins are so good though.”

“I prefer the ones after sex.”

He laughed. “Those are my favorite kind.”

“How about we walk over to the public beach? We’re on vacation. There’s no need to race.”

He linked his hands with hers. “All right, Mrs. McCoy.”

She rose onto her toes and dragged him down to her mouth. He tasted of salt and sunshine. Her earlier desperation melted like the sugary sand under her feet.

This was what it was supposed to be like. She felt his lips smile under hers as he slung his arm around her shoulder and dragged her in close. They walked through the foamy water for a while then up on the packed sand until they came to the public beach.

Kids screamed as loud as the gulls overhead. Harried parents chased toddlers with spray cans of sunblock.

Evelyn Adams, Christine Bell, Rhian Cahill, Mari Carr, Margo Bond Collins, Jennifer Dawson, Cathryn Fox, Allison Gatta, Molly McLain, Cari Quinn's books