Someone call the hotel medical staff. I’m on the verge of a heart attack.
I let my hip graze his when we step beside each other. Cross, pivot. The skirt of my sundress flutters against my legs like a caress. Will leans in, our foreheads almost touching.
“Ruby,” he says. His voice is scorching too. At the sound of it, I swear my nipples perk up inside my bra. I’m going to need a cold shower or three when this is over, but it is so worth it.
“Will,” I reply. “Having a good time?”
“I’ll say.” He adjusts our hands so our fingers intertwine. My heart thumps even faster. I can feel his breath hot on my cheek when he opens his mouth to say something else.
The music clicks off. “And that concludes our class!” Vincente calls out. “Thank you everyone for giving it your best. I expect the dance floor at this wedding will be spectacular.”
I detach from Will, tensing my legs so they don’t betray how wobbly I feel right now. Everyone claps, Brad lets out a whoop, and Vincente gives a little bow.
“Hey, Will,” Trevor says from behind us. An escape hatch! I take the moment of Will’s distraction to skedaddle for the door. The warmth of his body is still traveling through mine. I’d better get out of here before it short-circuits the sensible parts of my brain completely, small as they appear to be when Will’s around.
I’ve made it almost all the way back to the main hotel building when I realize I’ve left my purse back at the ballroom. Nicely done, Ruby. I putter around on the patio while the others file past, not wanting to have to explain why I’m hustling off in the wrong direction, and then dash back to grab it. The ballroom is dark, but the light through the doorway from the hall catches on my leather satchel. I sling it over my shoulder, take a deep breath, and head back for a second time.
Night crept all the way in while we were dancing. The solar lanterns seem to float amid the darkness of the jungle. A bird flutters by with a low cry, and the salty scent of the ocean wafts over me on the warm breeze. You know what, forget adventuring on alien planets. This is the paradise I’d want, right here.
I’m so wrapped up in it that I don’t notice the figure heading toward me on the path until I’m almost bumping into him. I grab his arm instinctively to steady myself.
“Hello again,” Will says, his voice husky, and my heart speeds up to triple-time. My lips part with some answer I’m sure would have been deeply insightful, but when I look up at him my mind goes blank. Something unspoken ricochets between us, and then all at once he’s tugging me off the path.
My back hits a tree trunk, and then Will is on me, how much because I’ve pulled him to me and how much by his own power I’m not sure. I don’t really give a shit, frankly, because his mouth is on mine, and the most important thing in the world right then is kissing him back as hard as I can. How did I ever exist on a planet without this—his lips easing mine apart with a determined pressure, his tongue sweeping around mine in their own sort of dance?
His mouth tastes tart with a hint of tequila. His hands are all over me, fingers tangling in my hair, traveling down my side, skimming the hem of my dress to tease my thigh. Every inch of his body presses against mine, but somehow he’s still not quite close enough. I kiss him again, deep and messy, and yank his shirt from his pants with a fistful of fabric. My hand slides up over the abs I’ve been admiring, the firm lines of his chest, the pebble of a nipple. He groans when my thumb skims over it, so I squeeze it.
You could bottle that sound and sell it for a million dollars an ounce, it’s that electrifying.
Will tips my head back and kisses a path down the side of my neck with a swipe of tongue. His other hand slips up to cup my breast through my dress, and I tremble against him. The gasps coming out of my mouth would probably embarrass me if I had room in my head to care about anything other than yes, please, more. He swivels his palm, and the friction turns my nipple tight. My hips buck against his. He’s already hard, his cock a rigid length, and if I was wet before I felt that, I’m soaking now.
“God, Ruby,” Will mutters. “You’ve been driving me crazy. I want you here. Now.”
I’ve never heard an idea quite so fantastic. My agreement comes out as another moan. He teases my nipple harder and harder, seizing my mouth with his as he moves to the other. Every nerve in my body is singing his praises, and they crescendo as his hand dips down between us. He strokes me through my dress as if he knows exactly what I need, drinking my whimpers with another insistent kiss. His chest hitches against mine as I ride his hand. More, farther, please.
“Ruby,” he murmurs. Like a plea, like I’m not already completely at his mercy. His lips slip along the line of my jaw, leaving a trail of fire, and he shifts back just far enough to look down at me, to gaze into my face. Staring back up at him, his familiar, gorgeous features lit by the lantern down the path, I feel my heart flip over for reasons that have nothing—and everything—to do with the way he’s touching me.
I’m kissing Will. Will. Love letter pinned to the frat house bulletin board Will. This isn’t a game anymore if I’ve almost lost myself.
My body stiffens. Will hesitates at the sudden shift, but before he can say anything I’m ducking under his arm and away—from him, from the tree, from my own weakness.
“No,” I say. My legs are shaking, but at least my voice isn’t. “I’m sorry but this . . . this was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
“Ruby?” Will looks confused, but I’m already spinning and dashing along the path toward the hotel and the safety of my room.
Chapter Ten
The tropical morning dawns with the trills of birds and a spectacularly clear sky. I pull a face at it and rub my bleary eyes. I’d probably appreciate the view more if I hadn’t spent most of the night staring at the shadows on my ceiling instead of sleeping.
And thinking of the man I definitely shouldn’t have been making out with up against that tree.
I’d thought it was hard keeping my mind off Will before. But now, when I have a technicolor-vivid memory of his hands . . . his mouth . . . every inch of that scorching hot body against mine . . .
I catch myself trailing my fingers down my neck along the line he traced and yank my hand away with a groan. Would another cold shower do the trick? It’s hard to have much hope when the first two didn’t make a dent in my horny misery.