Текст книги "Red Carpet Kiss"

Автор книги: Melissa Brown

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

This place is gorgeous, Luke.”

Elle ran her fingers across the granite countertops of the rental house Luke was considering in the Pacific Palisades. He asked her to visit the house with him on their lunch hour. The Pacific Palisades, a district on the west side of Los Angeles, was notorious for two things: being right on the ocean and being the chosen neighborhood for several Hollywood A-listers. He would be close to work, a short drive from Elle’s place, and he would be on the water, but he would also be surrounded by big names. She could only hope he was more interested in the beautiful view than the hope of rubbing shoulders with big-name directors, actors, and actresses.

The ocean view caught Elle’s eye and she quickly walked outside to the wooden deck, taking in the sea breeze. Luke followed, wrapping his arms around her, linking them across her midriff. All that stood between them and the ocean was a flight of stairs and a hundred yards of sandy beach. The waves crashed against the shore as they took in the majestic view.

“What do you think? Do you love it?”

“It’s . . .” Elle turned to face Luke. “It’s wonderful.”

“The house is okay, nothing too impressive, a little small. But you can’t beat this view. Look, there’s even a hammock over here.” He gestured to a cozy-looking hammock in the corner of the deck before nuzzling his nose into her neck. “You. Me. Naps in the sunshine with the sound of the waves crashing in the background. I should sign the rental agreement this second.”

That thought delighted Elle. It was serene, calm, and sexy—every word she could use to describe Luke himself. When she was with him, life was fresh, new, and filled with possibilities. His calm demeanor and relaxed approach to life was contagious—she’d spent so many years entrenched in anxiety. Yes, it had led to success in her life, success she wouldn’t trade for the world. But Luke was successful in his own right, and he wasn’t bogged down with worry the way she was. Or the way Troy was, for that matter.

“Seriously, though, are you going to take it?”

“I have to see the rest of the place, but yeah, I think so. It’s a year lease, which is perfect. It’ll carry me into next season, and then I can figure out what to do next. Gotta wait to see if my contract is extended.”

Elle placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. Viewers love you. Our ratings are the best they’ve ever been.”

“Ahh, but the creator of the show . . . I’m not so sure about her.” His words were playful, impish, and so Elle decided to play along.

“Yeah, I hear she’s a real hard-ass.”

The wind blew and Elle’s hair swished to the side, rising in the air like the flames of a fire. Luke took the ends of her hair gently in his hand, pressing it to her shoulder. “I wouldn’t say that. But she may get sick of me.”

“That seems highly unlikely.” Elle giggled as Luke’s hands drifted down to her waist. The tips of his fingertips stroked her skin gently under her blouse. She squirmed as he tickled her skin and Luke grinned from ear to ear, proud of his ability to keep her on her toes.

“I love that laugh. It’s so beautiful.”

“I didn’t realize a laugh could be beautiful.”

“Yours is.”

Luke pulled Elle in for a kiss just as the leasing agent opened the screen door and cleared his throat.

“Mr. Kingston, I have another client arriving shortly. I need to know if you’re interested—”

“I’ll take it,” Luke said with confidence, his eyes never leaving Elle’s.

“Excellent.” The agent stepped outside to join them. “The paperwork is on the kitchen counter. Deposit of first and last month’s rent is due today, and you can move in on the first.”

“Sounds great.” Luke extended his arm to the agent, who then smiled and shook his hand.

“Excuse me, please. I need to make a phone call.” He retreated back into the house, and Elle turned to Luke, a smile of excitement crossing her lips.

“Congratulations! I’m so excited for you!”

“Thank you.” Luke grinned, then lifted Elle off her feet and spun her around the deck, his hands clutching her rib cage. For a split second, Elle wanted to slap his arm and demand to be put down. But then she forced herself to let go, to enjoy the moment. And within seconds, she was laughing with Luke, her hair blowing in the ocean breeze. When her toes touched the wood of the deck, she gazed into his carefree eyes, enveloped in his lively, seize-life-whenever-you-can outlook. And she liked it. She liked it a lot.

“We should get back. I’ve kept you away too long.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s okay. We have plenty of time.” Elle smoothed down her clothes, still trying to adjust to the brisk breeze of the deck. “Although, if I’m even a few minutes late, I’ll have daggers from Gina.”

Luke chuckled. “And how is that different from any other day? She always has daggers for you.”

“Ugh, I know. It’s exhausting.”

“You could kill her off,” Luke joked. Elle allowed herself to savor that thought for a quick moment, before shaking her head and returning to reality.

“Nah. We’re losing Desmond. If I take Molly out of the equation, it won’t even be the same show anymore.”

“Would that be so awful? It could be a fresh start.”

There was that term again. Troy had used it the previous week in his living room, and now Luke was using it in reference to the show.

“Or career suicide . . . for both of us. Molly is the heart and soul of the show. Even if the actress who plays her is a total pill.”

“Don’t let her get to you. She’s not worth your time.” Luke took Elle’s hand in his and they walked into the kitchen, where he signed the contracts and handed a check to the leasing agent.

As he handed the pen to the leasing agent, Elle smiled. “Welcome home.”

Even though Elle and Luke were five minutes late, the lead actors were nowhere to be found in the conference room. Their table read wasn’t nearly finished and they were scheduled to run until at least 4:00 p.m., if not longer. The supporting cast was seated, ready to begin, but Gina and Nolan were absent. Elle wondered where they could be.

“Um . . . that’s odd.”

“Should I go look for them? See what’s holding them up?” Luke offered, placing his hand on the knob.

“No, I’ll do it. You can look over your script and I’ll be right back. Text me if they show up, okay?”

Perplexed, Elle walked down the hallway, hoping she wouldn’t interrupt a lovers’ quarrel of some kind. She braced herself as she walked in the direction of the executive offices. When she turned a corner into the atrium, she heard shouting.

Oh boy.

She followed the screeching voice of Gina, who was standing in the doorway to Whitney’s office.

“I can’t believe this! You said it was over!”

“Baby, listen to me.” Nolan could be heard from inside the office.

“Baby?” Whitney yelled, sounding appalled. “Since when is she your baby? Did you get back together with her?”

“I’m sorry, Whit. I can exp—”

“Don’t apologize to her!” Gina shrieked, stomping her foot against the linoleum floor. “I am so done. You begged me, pleaded with me for another chance. And being the idiot I am, I gave it to you. But now I’m done. You can fuck off, Nolan Rivera. And take your little whore with you!”

Gina wiped her cheeks and stormed toward Elle, whose feet were frozen to the floor. Gina’s cheeks were the color of a blasting fire engine. Elle felt terrible for her, unable to comprehend how it must feel to be the victim of infidelity. It was one of her biggest fears, and seeing it transpire right in front of her eyes was gut-wrenching.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Gina’s eyes were bulging from their sockets. Outrage poured from her skin.

“No! No, I promise you, I had no clue.”

“I don’t believe you.” Tears streamed down Gina’s cheeks as she yelled. “I gotta get outta here.”

“Listen, take the day. We have the table read, but it’s okay, just go home.”

“I don’t give a shit about the table read, Elle! Just leave me the hell alone.”

Gina stormed away and Elle pulled herself together to approach the wreckage. Nolan was half-dressed, seated in a chair with his head in his hands. Whitney, her lipstick smeared, her hair disheveled, was standing behind her desk, her hand covering her mouth. She was just as shocked as Gina, just as betrayed.

“Nolan, will you give us a minute?”

Nolan stood, his tan skin flushed, his dark hair mussed. He looked to Whitney. “I never meant for any of this—”

“Stop.” She put her hand up in front of her, her eyes closed tight. “Just stop. I don’t wanna hear it. Clean yourself up and meet me in the conference room in ten minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nolan had never, not once in the years they’d worked together, called Elle ma’am. If she weren’t so upset for Whitney, she would have chuckled at his sheepish behavior. But her loyalty to Whitney and her sympathy for Gina kept her features cold as stone.

Nolan left the office, closing the door behind him. Elle and Whitney stood in silence for a moment before Elle broke the tension. “You didn’t know they were still together, did you?”

Whitney shook her head.

“Then why the secrecy? You told me it was a one-time thing. Why didn’t you tell me you were sleeping with him?”

“We were keeping it to ourselves. He said he didn’t want to hurt her and being the idiot I am, I believed him. God, I’m so stupid, Elle. So stupid!” Whitney smacked the wall with her palm, turned, and leaned down against her desk.

“You’re not an idiot. You were trying to be sensitive and not make waves.”

“I know, but now it’s a freaking mess. I’m so sorry. I never meant to mess with your show.”

“Don’t worry about that. Nolan has only seven episodes to shoot, and then he’s done. It’ll work itself out.” Elle walked to Whitney, rubbing her back with her hand. “But I’m worried about you. Were you two . . . serious?”

A sardonic laugh left Whitney’s throat as she looked up to the ceiling. “Obviously not.”

“I mean before what happened today. Were you . . . falling for him?”

In their four years of friendship, Elle had never witnessed Whitney have serious feelings about a man. She bounced from man to man without getting attached. But everything about this scenario felt different. The secrecy, the pained look on Whitney’s face, and her reaction to Gina spoke volumes.

“Yes. Can you believe it? I’m such a fool.”

“No, he is. You deserve so much more.”

Elle’s phone pinged with a text from Luke:

Nolan’s here. Gina went home, but not sure why.

“I’m so sorry to do this, but I have to go. It’s the table read.”

“Of course, I get it.” Whitney faked a smile.

“Dinner tonight? Just you and me?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Elle placed a kiss on the top of Whitney’s head. “It’s gonna be okay.”

But deep in the pit of her stomach she knew the repercussions from Gina’s discovery would be just around the corner. It was just a matter of time before they reared their ugly heads.

“Start from the beginning.”

Elle and Whitney were tucked into a quiet corner of a local French bistro, their favorite place to talk over delectable food and cocktails. Sipping martinis and nibbling on a favorite appetizer, black mussels poulette, Whitney was ready to discuss her relationship with Nolan.

“You know it happened once this spring and it was seriously no big deal, but this time it was different. He was pursuing me, like really working at it. So we started seeing each other a few times a week.”

“Mostly in your office?” Elle gritted her teeth as she asked the question. She had no intention of being snarky, but she herself knew of two occasions when they’d been inappropriate in Whitney’s office.

Whitney polished off her martini, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “I’m sure it must seem that way, but there was more to it.”

Elle gestured for the waiter, pointing at Whitney’s empty glass. He nodded and stepped behind the bar to prepare another martini. Elle leaned in. “When did things start up again?”

“A month ago, I think . . . it was right after Mac the bartender.”

“Gotcha. So did he take you out?”

“Not really. We met up at his place and mine, usually. I thought nothing of it—I thought we were just being careful. Gina’s already a pain in the ass, we didn’t want to poke the bear. The last thing I wanted was for her to take things out on you.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m a big girl. I can handle her.”

The waiter arrived with two fresh drinks. Elle quickly downed the rest of her martini and placed it on his empty tray. “Keep ’em coming.”

“Not that it matters, anyway. He’s just another cheating asshole.” Whitney’s fingers pressed against the rim of the glass. She stared down at the white tablecloth, so forlorn that Elle, for the first time, was worried about Whitney’s heart. The heart she’d always admired—the one that was impervious to men and their antics. But watching her stare down at the cloth, her eyes red and puffy, her lips trembling, Elle realized she and her best friend had more in common than she’d once thought.

“How long do you think he was seeing her?”

“Who the hell knows? He’s never getting into my pants again, that’s for freaking sure.” Whitney cleared her throat, took a large sip of her martini, and dug her elbow into the table, perching her chin on her palm. “Please change the subject. I need a distraction like immediately.”

“Okay,” Elle said with a laugh, searching her brain for something, other than men, to discuss. “The table read went well, despite Gina not being there.”

Whitney rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I don’t want to talk about her. Tell me about Luke . . . or Vegas. Distract me, I’m begging you.”

Elle put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m at a loss when it comes to them. Luke is renting a place in the Palisades and—”

“Oh wow, that’s exciting for him.”

Elle nodded, looking down at her drink. “It is.”

“You’re still worried about him, huh? Afraid his head’ll get too big or something?”

“Can you blame me? God, look at Nolan. Can you honestly say stardom hasn’t gone to his head? When we first met him, he was an unknown, now he’s leaving for movie roles, he’s cheating on you, he’s a freaking mess.”

“Luke and Nolan are totally different people and you know it.”

“For now.” Elle shook her head. “Who’s to say Luke won’t change the longer he’s in the limelight?”

“True, there’s no way of knowing.”

“Besides, it’s not all about that. Troy has a lot to do with my current state of mind.”

“I’m sure.” Whitney nodded. “You two have so much baggage, it’s intimidating.”

“I know, and it seems like every time we try to leave it all in the past, it comes creeping forward and we get into some stupid fight.”

“Do you think you can get past it?”

“I thought so . . . until he told me that Amanda Bauer is Payton’s mother. Now that’s all I can think about.”

“Who’s Amanda?”

“A girl he dated in college. I couldn’t stand her. Every time I screwed up, he went back to her. And I think he did it to hurt me.”

Whitney recoiled. “Well, that’s odd.”

“It’s a pattern. His pattern, and it’s awful.” Elle sighed. “If there was ever something that would hurt me, it was this. He went back to her after Vegas. He went back to her again.”

“And you don’t think you can get past it?”

“In time, maybe. But I’m not sure about him. That’s the problem.”

“Forgive me for saying this, but . . . who’s to say he won’t walk away again?”

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t fight for you—you tried, you tried to get him back. You practically begged, and he shut you out. Who’s to say he won’t do that all over again?”

“Whit, I asked for an annulment. I devastated him, wrecked him completely.”

“I know, but the fact he wouldn’t see you, wouldn’t talk to you . . . nothing. It pisses me off. If you truly love someone, you have to forgive them, not run off and have sex and a child with your ex.”

Elle shook her head, gritting her teeth. “He said it was just a rebound. She’s married now and they’re just friends. What I did was unforgivable, Whit.”

“To him, yes. But the right guy would fight for you, forgive you for your mistakes, and try to move past everything. Not disappear for ten years. And I think you know it.”

A distinct pain developed in Elle’s gut. “I miss him. God, I’ve missed having him in my life. Before we were together, we were friends—the best of friends. And then, nothing. It was like he wiped away his existence from my life. This may sound silly, but I had to mourn him . . . almost as if he died.”

“That’s not silly at all. It’s the truth.”

“And now, I have this opportunity to fix things, to start again. It’s exhilarating . . . and terrifying.”

“Because you’re afraid he’ll disappear again, that he’ll shut you out.”

Elle chugged the rest of her martini. “Yeah, I guess. I can’t lose him again, Whit. A part of me died the day I lost him. If another part of me goes, I don’t know where I’ll be. I really don’t.”

“You can’t be with him just because you’re afraid.”

“That’s not all, there’s still something there. When I’m near him, my heart skips a beat, my stomach flutters.”

“Forgive my honesty, Ellie, but I’m not sure he deserves you. I’ll support whatever you choose, you know that. But your happiness . . . and I mean actual, honest-to-goodness happiness: the loving-life, batshit-crazy-in-love kinda happiness—that’s what I want for you. And I’m not sure that exists with him . . . or if it ever did.”

“Stop. Please, just . . . I can’t.” Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes and she felt herself building a wall between herself and Whitney. She didn’t want to hear it—any of it. “You don’t know him. You only know my pain.”

“That’s true. I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

“Thank you,” Elle whispered, wiping her eyes with her cloth napkin. “Listen, I’ll take care of the check, but I should get home. Big day tomorrow.”

“Ellie, honey, don’t go.”

Elle stood, placed her purse on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I have to. Should I call you a cab?”

“No.” Whitney leaned back in the booth. “I’ll be fine.”

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yep.” Whitney wouldn’t make eye contact, but Elle was fine with that. She couldn’t handle Whitney’s skepticism regarding Troy and she needed the solitude of her home to calm her down. Maybe the morning would bring clarity, but until then, she needed to be alone and far away from Whitney’s judgment.

I can’t believe you know how to do this,” Elle remarked, leaning against the granite countertop of Luke’s new kitchen. She sipped from her glass of white wine as the Rolling Stones played quietly from Luke’s iPod.

“You’ve never made your own sushi before?”

Elle shook her head. “I’ve always left it to the professionals. But you’re looking pretty skilled there.”

Luke smiled and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before returning his hands to the bamboo mat. “I had this part in a pilot, they taught us there.”

“What was the role?”

“The whole show was set in a sushi bar. I played this buffoon whose dream was to be a sushi chef. I know it’s shocking the show didn’t get picked up, huh?” Luke shook his head with a laugh as he scooped a ball of rice with his hands, placing it in the center of the nori square. “Wanna try?”

“I don’t know. You seem to be doing a great job and—”

“C’mon, I’ll teach you. We’ll do it together.”

Elle lifted an eyebrow, placed her glass on the counter, and nestled herself between him and the kitchen island. Luke encircled her with his arms, his chin resting on her shoulder as he guided her hands.

“First, we have to press the rice down so it covers the nori.” Together, they pressed the rice into the thin square of seaweed. Luke hummed into her ear as they worked. Elle couldn’t make out the song, but the contented tone of the melody made her smile with satisfaction.

“Next, we need our fish. I already cut the salmon into strips. So take one of the strips and lay it horizontally.”

She placed a long piece of fish atop the rice. “Like this?”

“Yep, you’re a natural. Now add some cucumber strips, only two or three.”

“Got it.” Elle placed the vegetables next to the salmon. “Can we roll it now?”

“Okay, we’re gonna use the closer edge of the rolling mat. We have to close on the filling with the nori making a rectangular-shaped hill, then we tighten it from above.”

Luke’s already deep voice dropped an octave as he instructed Elle on how to construct the sushi. “Keep it tight, with every move.”

Elle giggled, removing her hand from the sushi and placing it against her mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Luke kept his grip on the partially rolled sushi, but tilted his head to peer into Elle’s eyes.

“Sorry, it just . . . it was starting to sound a little naughty.”

“Elle Riley has a dirty mind, huh? I can certainly use that to my advantage.”

“I’m sure you can. Seriously, though, you have this effect on me every time I’m with you . . .”

“And what’s that?”

“I can’t explain it—it’s like, when I’m with you, I’m lighthearted, almost free-spirited. I’ve never been like that before.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true, unfortunately. Not even as a kid. But you . . . you’re changing me.” Elle returned her hand to the maki, assisting Luke as they finished pulling the bamboo mat tight, rolling one last time. When the roll was secure, she lifted her hands and turned to face him. “Like right now, I have this urge to just . . .” She bit down on her lip, narrowing her eyes.

“This should be interesting.” Luke smirked, but there was more to that expression. His eyes darkened and his fingers gripped her hips, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. That thought caused a chill to run down her spine. Luke licked his lips and tipped his chin toward her. “Finish your sentence.”

“To jump up on the counter and seduce you right here, right now. Sushi be damned.”

Luke’s eyes widened and his mouth was agape. Without another word, he pushed the cutting board and fresh rolled sushi to the side. His hands gripped Elle’s ass, hoisting her up on the island. She gasped as the cool countertop caused goose bumps to rise on her thighs. Luke’s eyes darkened and his hands gripped her ponytail, pulling slightly as he took her mouth with his own.

Immediately Elle deepened the kiss, her tongue stroking his as her arms wrapped around his muscular back, pulling him closer. His woodsy scent tickled her senses and turned her on. She loved that smell. The soothing and intoxicating smell of Luke.

Luke pulled away slightly, a low growl escaping his lips as he pressed his forehead to Elle’s shoulder.

“Listen, I have an idea . . .” he said.

Elle snickered, repeating the words he used earlier. “This should be interesting.”

“Let’s enjoy our meal, and then I’ll surprise you.”

Elle removed the already-prepared sushi rolls from the fridge as Luke ran his knife under the tap and cut the final maki roll into bite-sized pieces. Together, they sat at Luke’s new dining room table, sharing the rolls and sipping wine.

“You know, as much as you’re affecting me, I think I’m doing the same to you,” Elle said.

“Why do you say that?” Luke poured Elle another glass, then ran his fingers through his hair, sitting back in his chair.

Elle tilted her head back toward the kitchen island. “You chose sushi over sex. That was a very type A personality thing to do, ya know.”

Luke brushed her insinuation off with a shrug. “That’s because I have other plans for you.”

“Oh, really? I can’t wait to hear this.”

Luke popped a piece of sushi into his mouth, and wiggled his eyebrows. “You’ll just have to wait and see. C’mon, let’s eat.”

Both grinning from ear to ear, they sat next to one another at the table, Luke’s hand affixed to Elle’s thigh while his other hand mastered the chopsticks. With each passing minute, his fingers traveled further and further up her skirt. The strokes of his fingers against her skin drove her wild, and despite the delicious fresh taste of the sushi, she wished the meal would end. She had to know what his plans were. The suspense was killing her in the most delectable way as his fingers reached the lace of her panties.

“What are you doing?” Elle whispered, arousal filling her from head to toe.

“Just giving you a taste of what’s to come.”

With determination and purpose, Elle placed her chopsticks across her porcelain plate. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

Luke chuckled, looking down at Elle’s plate. Several pieces of sushi remained, but Elle didn’t care. She was no longer hungry for sushi, no matter how delicious it was. She wanted Luke, only Luke.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely certain.”

Luke dabbed his mouth with the end of his napkin before dropping it on the hard wood of the table. “All right. Come with me.”

Elle rose to her feet, placing her hand in his. They walked outside to the deck. The sky was dark and stars shone brightly over the crashing waves of the ocean. Luke tipped his head toward the shore.

“Care for a swim?”

“Are you kidding? We’ll freeze! Plus, isn’t it a little late for swimming?”

“Baby, we’re in California . . . it’s never too late for a swim. I’ll keep you warm. What do you say?”

Elle kissed Luke’s chiseled jaw. “Let’s do it.”

But then she remembered. Her nose wrinkled. “I didn’t bring a suit.”

Luke leaned in, his warm lips brushing against her ear. “You don’t need one.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know . . .” Elle glanced around the deck, searching for any innocent bystanders. She wasn’t sure she had the guts to walk across the beach as naked as the day she was born. She was proud of her body—she ate right and worked out several times a week. But still . . . skinny-dipping was nothing she ever considered doing, even with Luke.

Elle could feel Luke’s fingers pulling her blouse from underneath the waistline of her pencil skirt. The tips of his fingers tickled her belly as he dragged them against her bare skin.

“I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than you naked in the moonlight.”

Normally, Elle would overanalyze this situation. She’d grill Luke about the presence of his neighbors: their ages, their evening activities. She’d request a towel to cover herself while walking down to the water. But there was something about Luke that silenced her questioning, hesitant nature. Something stirred within her, and she realized she wanted nothing more than to jump in the ocean with Luke, to feel the crashing of the waves against her skin, and to feel the heat of Luke’s body against her as they immersed themselves in the brisk water.

“You convinced me.”

Elle kissed Luke as her hands joined his at removing her blouse. Without hesitation, she pulled it over her head and tossed it to the side. Luke stripped himself of his clothes while Elle removed her skirt, panties, and finally her bra. Together, they stood naked below the moonlight.

“I knew it.” Luke pulled her close. Her nipples rose to meet the muscles of his chest. “Nothing more beautiful.”

“Race ya!” Elle whooped into the night air, her palm smacking the taut muscles of his right butt cheek. Luke laughed and she could hear him following close behind her as her feet met the sand. The grainy texture dug at the bottoms of her feet until she reached the base of the shore. The sand turned cool, wet, and thick and her toes dug into the ever-stretching expanse of gritty earth.

Rather than simply dip her toes into the frosty water, Elle crashed into it with force, submerging herself in the invigorating waves spilling against the shore. Luke dove into the next wave. He rose from the water, his chest glistening as he ran his fingers through his drenched hair.

“Wow, it’s cold.”

“It feels amazing, don’t you think?”

Elle dunked her hair into the water, taming the crazy strands pasted to her forehead. The water soothed her tresses, making them silky smooth against her fingertips.

“Now that you have me here,” she said with a smile, “and no one’s around . . .”

Luke wrapped his hands around Elle’s waist, pulling her further away from shore. She felt weightless in the water as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. She could feel him hard beneath her. Her hand reached down to clutch him.

“I’m impressed . . .”

“Why’s that?” Luke tipped his head to the side, looking confused.

“The cold water. I was prepared for shrinkage.”

“Well, I’m no George Costanza,” Luke said with a laugh, his hands stroking her thighs. Elle threw her head back in laughter, realizing no statement had ever been more accurate. Luke, with his chiseled abs, firm ass, and contented nature, was about as far away from the neurotic, stocky character from Seinfeld as possible.

“That’s for damn sure.”

Supporting her weight with one arm, Luke cradled her breast with the other, squeezing gently as he massaged her sensitive skin. Her nipples rose further just before Luke took one into his mouth. She gasped at the electric sensation traveling from her breast to her sex as his teeth grazed the nipple’s tightly drawn peak.

“Oh my God,” Elle murmured, pushing her hands against his shoulders and easing herself onto him. Slowly, she lowered herself down until he was completely inside her. She moaned at the feel of him, the way her muscles accepted his length. Again and again, she pressed her hips to his, thrusting beneath the soothing water. Luke continued to stroke her nipples with his tongue, first one then the other. The sensation of his lips, his tongue, his teeth was almost more than she could handle as she plunged in and out of the water with each of Luke’s thrusts. She felt herself approaching climax and quickened her pace. A wave doused them with more water, but they were so immersed in one another, they didn’t notice. Luke wiped the water from Elle’s eyes, his fingers delicate against her drenched eyelids. He took her mouth in his, his tongue stroking hers as he moved her hips against his.

“You’re so close. Let go, baby.”

Elle threw her head back in ecstasy as her orgasm took over her entire body. Pulses of pleasure consumed her and she felt her muscles clench against Luke. Knowing how close he was as well, she didn’t allow herself to slump into his shoulder, weak from her orgasm. Instead, she quickened her pace, lowering her hands to grip the muscles of his back, thrusting harder and harder until Luke growled into her ear, finding his own release.

With a sigh, Elle collapsed into his chest, satisfied and exhausted. Luke smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head.