“Skylar, anyone who meets you knows you have good taste. I think you’d be great at a job like that. You just need to market yourself confidently and find the right one.”

Pleasure swelled inside me at his compliments, at his confidence in me. I wished I had it in myself. “Thanks. I’ll give it some thought.”

When we reached the cabin, we hauled the boat down to the dock and put it in the water. It was late afternoon but the sun was still high in the sky, and air was hot and still, just a slight breeze off the bay. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my arm while Sebastian tied the boat to the dock.

“I wish I’d have grabbed my bathing suit. The water looks good.”

He looked up at me with a doubtful smile. “You’d swim? It’s a warm day, but the water’s still pretty cold.”

I lifted my chin. “I’m a brave little toaster. Hey, do you have any sunscreen?”

He straightened up. “Yes. Bathroom drawer on the bottom right.”

“Thanks.” Inside, I fought the urge to rifle through Sebastian’s entire bathroom cabinet to learn more about him. I opened only the bottom right drawer, which was very neat and contained sunscreen, shaving cream, razors, and bar soap. Using the mirror over the sink, I applied some SPF 30 to my face, arms, and legs, and brought it outside with me to offer some to Sebastian.

Oh fuck. He took off his shirt.

My belly backhandspringed repeatedly as I approached the dock, where he was loading the paddles into the boat. Natalie hadn’t exaggerated; Sebastian was ripped. He was tall and slender, so it wasn’t an obnoxious sort of ripped, but the curves and lines on his body made my breath come faster. His skin was as beautiful as his bone structure—golden and smooth.

“Want some of this?” I asked, holding up the sunscreen. Or some of this? I thought, refraining from patting my ass.

“Nah. I don’t mind the sun.”

“Sebastian! You have great skin. You should be nicer to it. Here, let me.” Hahaha, fucking genius! Hiding a smile, I flipped the lid and squirted some into my hand. “Turn around.”

He sighed, but did as I requested, and I put my hands on his upper back. Biting my lip, I slowly rubbed the sunscreen into his skin, sliding my palms across his broad shoulders and along the back of his neck. I stayed well away from the waistband of his faded red shorts, but I did notice his blue plaid boxers peeking out above it. My stomach contracted.

“OK. Front.”

Slowly, he turned to face me, and I swear I was just going to offer him the tube to do it himself, but the combination of his face and those glasses and the stubbled jaw and the sculpted chest and the abs—THE ABS—overpowered me. I nearly moaned aloud, imagining how those muscles would flex as he moved above me.

Gahhhhhh, don’t touch him, Skylar. He doesn’t want it.

But…but abs.

Right. If he said no, he said no.

“Want me to do it?” I asked brightly.

He hesitated. “OK.”

FAHK.

Trying to control my racing pulse, I squirted some more sunscreen into my palms and rubbed them together. Then I put them on his chest.

And left them there.

Awestruck, I stared at my hands on his sun-warmed chest. Bits and pieces of me tightened and tingled.

“I think you’re supposed to rub it in.” His tone was amused.

Honey, I’ll rub anything you want me to.

Slowly I began to move my hands in lazy circles on his pectacular chest. When it was absorbed, I slid my hands lower without bothering to put more sunscreen on them. The hard ridges of his abdominal muscles rippled beneath my fingers, and I slid them back and forth along the furrows.

Yes. I fingered his furrows.

“Wow.” My voice cracked, and I swallowed. “You must do a lot of crunches.”

He chuckled, and the muscles twitched beneath my palms, shooting pure lust through my veins.

Oh, God. If it was any other guy, I’d have slipped a hand between his legs right then and there. But Sebastian was different, and I didn’t want to ruin this by moving too fast. Last time I’d gotten touchy-feely with him, he’d panicked.

But he was still now. Too still, maybe.

I looked up at him. “Is this OK?”

Was this OK?

Your hands are inches away from my rising cock. Your nipples are hard—I can see them through your shirt. You’re looking up at me with such sweet concern, but I can see the way you want me, too, and fuck, I want you that way too. But something inside me won’t let me touch you.

I cleared my throat and took a step back. “It’s fine. Should we go?”

Her face fell, but she nodded.

After jumping onto the boat, I took Skylar’s hand and helped her on, but I noticed that she let go of me as soon as she had two feet on the bottom of the boat. She settled at the front, arms wrapped around her legs, sunglasses hiding her eyes.

After untying the rope, I pushed away from the dock and picked up the oars, angry with myself again. I knew she’d been hoping I’d be fucking normal for a few minutes and at least kiss her or something, but I couldn’t. Not that I didn’t want to—my God, I was lucky I didn’t come in my pants the second she put her hands on me. Every male instinct in my body was screaming at me to throw her down right there in the boat and ravage that hot little body until she begged for mercy.

Was I crazy not to?

She wanted it, didn’t she?

It had been so long…and I wanted her so fucking badly.

As I watched her tilt her head back, lifting her face to the sun and exposing the pale white skin of her neck, I waited for the voice to kick in.

But it didn’t. Amazed, I allowed my gaze to travel from her neck down her arms to her hands, which were crossed in front of her shins. She’d taken off her sneakers and her toenails were painted bright blue. Her legs were folded up in front of her chest, but I remembered how her nipples had been hard a few minutes ago and wondered if they still were. What color were they? Pale pink? Or deeper, like a rose? What would they feel like beneath my fingertips, between my lips, against my tongue?

Fuck, I was so hard, and wanted so badly to touch her. I could be gentle, couldn’t I?

It was worth a try. She was worth anything.

“Your toes match your eyes,” I said, hoping to make her smile.

Her lips tipped up, but she said nothing.

“Skylar, you’ve been silent for five whole minutes. That’s a record, I think.”

“Ha ha.”

I stopped rowing and let us drift. On a Wednesday afternoon, there weren’t too many boats out on the bay, and none were heading in our direction. I dropped the light anchor into the water and made sure we were tethered. Skylar still hadn’t said a word, but at least she’d opened her eyes and was looking at me.

“Everything OK?” I asked.

She lifted her shoulders. “I’m just embarrassed. I keep touching you, and it’s the wrong thing.”

“No. It’s not.”

“You get so jumpy.”

“I know, but it’s not because I don’t like it. I do. It scares me how much I do.”

She said nothing and tipped her head back again, then wiggled so she was lying on her back on the bottom of the boat.

Carefully I moved to her side and stretched out next to her, head propped in my hand. “Hey.” I tapped her nose.

She ignored me, which made me smile.

“Still thinking about taking a swim?”

“Maybe. If I get hot enough.” She folded her hands on her belly.

“That an invitation?”

She stuck out her tongue at me.

Smiling, I took her sunglasses off and studied her for another minute, appreciating the flawless symmetry of her face.

I fucking loved symmetry.

Her rosebud mouth pouted just a bit, and I set her glasses aside before tracing her lips with one fingertip. She was startled by my touch, her mouth opening slightly, her breaths warm and quick against my hand.