Chapter Ten
Skye made a strangled noise but didn’t turn around.
“It’s fine if you are,” Lucy said quickly in a voice barely thicker than a squeak. Her smile quickly faded. All that bravado from earlier was evaporating like mist on a sunlit windshield.
Frankly, she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
One minute she was floating naked in the Pacific Ocean, high on saltwater and adrenaline and the thrill of finally scratching skinny-dipping off her never-have-I-ever list. And the next, she was squinting through the moonlight, catching the shape of someone frozen on the beach not that far away. Someone suspiciously Skye-shaped.
Her first instinct had been to crouch low and hope that Skye hadn’t spotted her.
But then, suddenly, her legs had moved her forward, carrying her toward the bachelorette.
Which would have been fine if she hadn’t still been half-naked, dripping wet, wrapped in nothing but a towel she’d snagged from the outdoor shower rack on her way out of the villa.
It was obvious that Lucy wasn’t thinking clearly. Not with salt on her skin and her heart beating like a racehorse’s just after the derby.
“I mean,” she went on, hoping she could somehow salvage this. “I get it if you have somewhere else to be.”
“I should go,” Skye muttered, finally turning around.
She glanced up at Lucy, who was only a few inches taller than her.
Her eyes flicked over Lucy’s shoulders, her breasts, the dip of her towel, and then lingered for one breath too long on her waist. “You should too. We’ve got that group date this evening and wouldn’t want to be late. ”
But something in her voice cracked, like the words took too much effort to say out loud. Skye didn’t move. She didn’t step back. Her gaze didn’t harden into anything responsible or even professional. It softened. She hesitated, like she was waiting for someone to tell her not to go.
She was waiting for Lucy to tell her not to go. But Lucy couldn’t speak. She could only act.
Before Lucy could think of the consequences of what this would mean for the rest of the show, or if Skye would even welcome it, she lunged forward and kissed the bachelorette.
It was fast. Uncoordinated and messy as hell. Lucy’s lips crashed against Skye’s before her hand found the side of her neck. Her other hand was too eager, smoothing over Skye’s shoulder, to her back, pulling her closer.
But then, just as fast as she had kissed her, Lucy panicked and yanked herself back. “Oh, damn! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I have no idea what got into me. I’m really—”
“Don’t be,” Skye interrupted. “It’s fine.”
“It isn’t,” Lucy replied, mortified. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what got into me.” She folded her arms over her chest, covering her bare breasts.
What was she thinking? How could she kiss the bachelorette? How could she even…
But she didn’t have a chance to finish that thought when Skye surged forward and cupped Lucy’s face in both hands. Her touch was firm, almost desperate, like something in her had finally snapped. Her thumbs brushed along Lucy’s cheeks, and then she closed the distance between their mouths.
The kiss was searing, grounding, and dizzying all at once.
It felt like Lucy had stepped off the edge of a cliff she hadn’t realized she was standing on.
Skye kissed her like she’d been holding her breath for hours and was finally coming up for air.
There was no self-preservation. No caution.
Just Skye’s body pressing close as the towel around Lucy’s waist threatened to slip from her hips.
Lucy gasped into Skye’s mouth. She let her hands slide up under the hem of Skye’s shirt. Her palms grazed bare skin that was softer than silk.
Lucy shivered. Whether it was from the kiss, or from the ocean still clinging to her skin, she had no idea. And she didn’t care. She just kissed Skye harder. Her tongue swept into Skye’s mouth, slow and deliberate, like she wanted Skye to feel every second of it.
“You’re cold,” Skye said suddenly. She was breathless as she pulled back just enough to press her forehead to Lucy’s. “Shit. You’re freezing.”
“I’m fine,” Lucy murmured, barely even feeling the cold. Her body might’ve been shivering, but the rest of her felt like it was overheating. “I don’t want to stop this. I want to keep kissing you.”
“I’m not stopping,” Skye replied, stepping back slightly. “I just… we should go somewhere less open. Somewhere out of the breeze.”
Lucy blinked at her, still dizzy on the taste of Skye’s mouth. “Are you inviting me up to your suite?”
Skye dragged her hand through her hair. “Technically, no. I’m not allowed to.
None of the contestants are supposed to know where I sleep.
” She glanced around the beach as if the production team might jump out from behind the palm trees.
“But…” she added, eyes flicking back to Lucy before Lucy could sigh disappointedly.
“If someone happened to be following me while I was walking back… that wouldn’t be my fault. ”
Lucy stared at her, stunned. But before she could even form a thought beyond, oh shit, this is actually happening, Skye grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the path winding up past the garden terrace.
Lucy followed, stumbling slightly on the uneven stone.
The towel clung to her damp legs, and suddenly she felt somewhat naked.
Ironic, wasn’t it? What if someone spotted them?
What if someone who wasn’t Skye saw her bare tits and snapped a photo?
Lucy yanked the towel higher to cover her chest and clutched it tight with one arm, holding it in place, while the other hand stayed locked in Skye’s grip.
It was dark now. The moon was a sliver, but Lucy could easily make out the bungalow Skye was staying in off in the distance.
It was small and tucked behind a dense wall of palms and torch-lit planters.
The entire structure was made out of natural wood, and there was an infinity plunge pool out front.
Tall sliding glass doors reflected moonlight across the deck.
“Stay close,” Skye said, glancing back.
Her hand was still firmly wrapped around Lucy’s, and Lucy was honestly shocked Skye couldn’t feel the way her pulse was hammering through her skin. And her palm was probably clammy, which was borderline embarrassing, but if Skye noticed, she didn’t let on.
They kept to the shadows, ducking behind potted ferns. And there was one quick, nerve-wracking moment where they had to wait for the beam of a flashlight from a roaming PA to swing opposite their direction.
The entrance to the bungalow required a keycard. The panel was tucked beneath an overhead light. Skye glanced Lucy’s way again, but this time said nothing. She simply reached into the pocket of her linen shorts and pulled out a card.
The lock clicked open with a faint mechanical whirr, and she pushed the door wide.
“Quickly,” she murmured, ushering Lucy in. “Before anyone sees.”
Without glancing back, without hesitating or wondering what the hell she was doing, or if she would get into any trouble over this, she slipped past Skye.
Lucy was about to take in the room, the king-size bed with the silk sheets, the wicker chair in the corner, the dark wood armoire, but Skye was already there in front of her.
Her hands were on Lucy, and her mouth crashed hot and hungry against hers.
It was the kind of kissing that made Lucy forget what room they were in, and even what planet they were on.
She dropped the towel without a second thought, and it fell in a damp heap at her feet.
Skye broke the kiss and leaned back just an inch. Her gaze flicked down Lucy’s body, and whatever control she appeared to be holding onto snapped. Her lips curled slightly, but her eyes were ravenous.
“Wow,” she breathed. “You are…”
“Don’t say beautiful,” Lucy warned, breathless and grinning. “That’ll make me feel weird. I’ve never been good at taking compliments.”
Skye’s laugh was wicked. “Noted.”
It was true; Lucy did hate a compliment, but for some reason, that unfinished compliment felt like the mother of all compliments.
She tugged at the hem of Skye’s shirt and got it halfway up before Skye yanked it off the rest of the way with a growl that shot straight through Lucy’s spine.
Their mouths collided again, and hands roamed everywhere.
Skye’s shorts were halfway down her thighs before Lucy even realized she had gotten the button undone.
They bumped into something. A chair? A suitcase? It didn’t matter. Skye’s clothes were shed as if she were allergic to fabric. Lucy’s pulse fluttered in her throat, and her brain was a blur of yes, yes, yes!
By the time her knees hit the edge of the bed, she was laughing and panting and somehow still kissing Skye like she was the last oxygen source on earth.
Then, Skye leaned in close. She nudged Lucy back onto the mattress. And Lucy, still laughing, breathless, and blissed out of her mind, thought; Ok, so this is happening. It’s really happening. Holy shit!
Skye climbed over her, sliding her thighs over Lucy’s hips, and Lucy’s laugh caught in her throat. It was replaced instead by a gasp when Skye kissed her on the side of her neck.
The woman was gorgeous. Her body was lean and surprisingly strong, all smooth curves and slight muscles.
Her collarbone slipped into view beneath the soft slope of her shoulders.
As she hovered over Lucy, her flat stomach tightened and her breasts swayed slightly.
Her breasts displayed themselves full and perfect, her nipples stiff.
It was almost too much. Lucy nearly forgot how to breathe.
And not to mention her skin, that lovely, creamy skin with freckles here and there that Lucy wanted to memorize with her mouth.