Chapter 13 #2
able to be alone with her, touch her? The knots in his stomach began to retie, tighter this time, and something was happening
in his chest because he was finding it hard to breathe. Fuck.
“Right, let’s eat.” He busied himself opening the containers, hoping to distract them both from what he’d just admitted.
When he’d finished setting everything out, he darted a look at her. She seemed pensive, and for a horrible moment he thought
she was going to push him on why he couldn’t stop seeing her. “When did you put this together?”
Relief swamped him and he stared down at the spread: pita bread with dips, stuffed olives, a couple of lobster rolls, crab
cakes, and a salad with walnuts, turkey, cheese, apples, and cranberries. “Most are leftovers from today’s lunch.”
“It looks amazing. I’ve eaten more this past week than I usually do.” She waved toward him. “You’re a bad influence.”
“Don’t doubt it.”
She took a sip of the wine he’d poured her and leaned against the dune. “Tell me about Connor back in England. Where did he
grow up, what was he like as a boy, why did he become a chef?”
He paused mid-chew. “Grew up in West London, not far from where I live now. One older brother, way smarter than me. Matt’s
a corporate lawyer, which made the parents happy. I’m the black sheep.”
“They don’t approve of being a chef as a career?”
He shifted on the blanket and looked out toward the sea. “I was a bit of a handful as a kid, got into scrapes at school. Matt
never gave them any problems.” He shrugged. “I more than made up for him.”
“I can imagine you as a bit of a tearaway.” Intelligent hazel eyes probed his. “Popular at school, liked by the girls because
you were confident and good-looking, liked by the boys because you were a laugh, good at sport, and never backed down from
a fight. Teachers found you exasperating because you preferred to muck around rather than work hard and get the grades you
were capable of.”
“That about sums me up.” Her summary sounded better than that of his teachers and parents: Troublemaker. Irresponsible, thoughtless, immature. “Bet you always did your homework.” He held her gaze. “But you weren’t quiet. Other kids were probably a bit scared of you
because you weren’t just smarter than them, you also stood your ground. Spoke up when you disagreed with something.”
“Looks like we’re both more transparent than we thought.” She took another sip of her wine, a bite of the salad. “Do you get
on with your parents now?”
“Our relationship is polite but . . . complicated.” He thought back to what she’d said about her own parents. “They have a
solid marriage, though. Must have been harder for you, growing up in a house where there was tension.”
“I don’t know if tension is the right word. Dad was just absent. After my sisters left, Mum continued to center her whole life around him and me, even though she hardly ever saw us. I spent
less and less time at home, hoping she’d realize I didn’t need her so she was free to go out and get a job, do volunteer work,
but the more I tried to encourage her, the more friction it caused between us. In the end I shut up and kept my head down
until I escaped to university.”
“Where you discovered a love for finance and a determination to succeed in a career so that you wouldn’t end up lonely and
unfulfilled, like you worried your mum was.”
She angled her chin at him. “You think you know me?”
“No.” He finished off one of the rolls and stretched out on the blanket. “But I like the person I’m getting to know.”
A small frown line appeared between her eyes. “This is just a fling, though, yes? You’re not expecting it to carry on when
we get home. I mean, I know you work in Chiswick—”
“And I live in Ealing, so I imagine we’re not too far away from each other.” Her eyes widened and he let out a low laugh.
“Judging by the look on your face, that’s not what you want to hear.”
A tinge of pink stained her cheeks. “I like you, Connor, but I don’t have time for a relationship when I get back home.” Her
eyes met his, direct and unapologetic. “Not even a casual one.”
It wasn’t an option for him either. Not with Ellie, a huge part of his life Olivia didn’t even know about.
It still hurt to hear her say it.
“I know.” He plucked the plastic glass out of her hand and lay it on the sand. With a quick shift of position, he rearranged
them so she was sitting between his legs, her back against his chest. “But you’re with me now, and I’m going to make the most
of it.” He shifted her ponytail to one side and planted a trail of kisses down her neck. “You going to come skinny-dipping
with me when the sun sets?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You want me to strip naked on a public beach and then walk into the cold sea?”
He chuckled, bringing his hands around her waist to draw her bum more firmly against him. “It’s more romantic the way I said
it.” He kissed the nape of her neck, his nose nuzzling her soft hair. “And in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re alone.” To emphasize
it, he let his hand wander down between her thighs; he touched her there and smiled when her body shuddered.
“The sea is still cold.”
He fluttered kisses along her collarbone. “I’ll warm you up.”
They watched the sun sink and the sky grow darker as his fingers continued to tease her with their light exploration, his
mouth brushing across her satin-soft skin. By the time he’d eased off her shorts and slid his fingers inside her underwear,
he found her drenched, her body pliant, her hips thrusting up to meet his movements.
“I want you again,” he whispered, shifting them so she was under him on the blanket, her hazel eyes gazing up at him, clouded
with arousal he’d created. “Livvy?” A husky plea, raw with a need too violent for such a romantic setting.
In answer, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down, her mouth meeting his in a scorching kiss. Letting out
a guttural groan, he met her urgency, pushing up her top and then her bra, sucking at her nipples as his hips thrust restlessly
against her thigh. With his free hand, he undid his shorts, shoved his boxers low enough to release himself. He was seconds
from sinking inside her when she whispered, “Condom.”
Crap, yes. Of course. Damn it. He broke away and dived into his wallet for the square foil, his gut rolling with how close
he’d come to being irresponsible again. Nine years older, no fucking wiser.
But then her hands reached out to take it from him, and as she rolled it down his throbbing length, he forgot about beating
himself up and kissed her again, his tongue sliding across her soft lips and into her mouth, tasting the wine on her as he
eased into her heat.
“Oh my God.” She gasped, legs wrapping around him and as he rocked inside her under the moonlight.
Moving his hips with the rhythm of the waves, he tried to memorize every single moment. A time he could replay over and over
again in his mind when he was alone in his bed back home.