18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Kiss Me Like You Mean It
Luca
She doesn’t look back as she enters the water.
Moonlight glides over her bare shoulders and the delicate curve of her spine. The pool curls around her legs as though it was made to receive her, rising slowly over her hips.
She releases a breathless shiver when the water reaches her waist.
I remain on the bank.
Transfixed.
Every muscle in my body is wound tight enough to snap.
I don’t know how long I’ve been fighting whatever I feel for Simone.
Maybe it began the night of her eighteenth birthday, when she kissed me and forced me to recognize that Bran’s little sister had become a woman.
Maybe it began later, in thousands of smaller moments I refused to examine.
It doesn’t matter.
I’ve spent years burying it.
I’ve made terrible decisions around her.
Kissed her.
Touched her.
Tasted her mouth and made her come in my lap.
Then punished both of us because I couldn’t accept what I had done.
I’ve always feared what would happen if I broke the rules.
Now I’m beginning to fear what will happen if I don’t.
Simone walks deeper into the pool and splashes water over her face.
When she turns, she drags both hands into her wet hair.
Drops slide down her neck and over the upper curves of her breasts.
I’m jealous of the water.
“The water is warm,” she calls. “Are you coming?”
Her voice contains none of its usual taunting edge.
This isn’t a careless game.
She asked me to find her.
And she’s waiting to see whether I will.
Before moving, I scan the trees and listen.
The pool lies within the outer edge of the village, sheltered by stone and olive trees. The cottages aren’t visible from here, but their lights glow faintly through the foliage.
Nothing moves around us.
No footsteps.
No broken branches.
No sign of the pilot.
That doesn’t mean he isn’t nearby.
I set my pistol on my folded jacket within reach of the water’s edge.
This is still reckless.
But for once, I let myself want something more than control.
I remove my jacket, unfasten my belt, and step out of my trousers.
Simone watches every movement.
I stand before her in my boxer briefs and lift one eyebrow.
“Rude.”
Her lips curve.
“What?”
“You aren’t going to look away?”
“You didn’t look away when I undressed.”
“I suppose that answers yesterday’s question.”
The one where she asked whether I would watch her strip.
I hook my thumbs beneath the waistband of my briefs.
Simone catches her lower lip between her teeth.
I hold her gaze as I push the fabric down.
Her attention drops.
Her lips separate.
Then she swallows and looks back into my eyes.
The reaction sends a dark surge of satisfaction through me.
I step into the pool.
Warm water closes around my legs and rises over my body.
She was right.
It feels good.
But it’s nothing compared to the woman floating several feet away.
I move toward her.
We remain silent, staring at each other as broken strips of moonlight dance across the water.
For a moment, the world feels suspended.
There is no armed pilot.
No island.
No family waiting for us.
No duty.
Only Simone and me, breathing the same night air.
She’s always beautiful.
But seeing her this way—bare, unguarded, and free of makeup, cameras, and expectations—changes the meaning of the word.
Freckles scatter across her cheeks and nose.
Her wet lips are soft and pink. There’s a faint mark on the lower one where she has been biting it.
I want to replace it with marks of my own.
My heart beats in my throat.
“Brock believes the weather might clear enough to attempt a signal tomorrow,” I say.
The words are an attempt to remember who I am.
What I’m supposed to be doing.
“He’ll take me to the cliffs at first light. If the antenna can hold a transmission, we’ll contact Bran or Francis.”
Simone says nothing.
“We could be off this island tomorrow.”
Still nothing.
She studies my face with an intensity that makes my stomach tighten.
Her eyes linger on my mouth.
Then she swims closer.
“I still think about the kiss.”
The water suddenly feels colder.
“Simone.”
“Both kisses, actually.”
She stops directly in front of me.
“Coincidentally, both happened in your car.”
I try to respond.
She doesn’t let me.
“You confuse me, Luca.”
Her voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it.
“One minute, you act like touching me was the worst mistake of your life. Then you look at me like I’m the only person in the world.”
Water shifts between our bodies.
“You tell me it meant nothing, but your eyes say something else. You touch me like you mean it.”
She draws a slow breath.
“Then you run.”
A knot forms in my throat.
Simone places both hands against my chest.
My heart strikes her palm.
She looks down at it.
“Don’t lie to me.”
Her thumb brushes my skin.
“You feel this too.”
It isn’t a question.
My jaw aches from how tightly I’m holding it.
“So what if I do?”
The words come out harsher than intended.
Her gaze lifts.
“Why do you keep running from it?”
She steps closer, until the tips of her breasts brush my chest beneath the water.
“From me?”
I curl my hands into fists.
“What are you afraid of?”
I’m not prepared for this conversation.
“You know why.”
“No, I know the excuses you repeat.”
Her frustration sharpens.
“Bran. My father. Your job. My last name.”
“All of those things matter.”
“You make them matter more than they should.”
“You’re my client.”
“I’m a woman.”
“You’re both.”
“And you act like wanting me will destroy you.”
Her eyes burn into mine.
“But you keep looking at me like you already do.”
She isn’t wrong.
That’s the problem.
“I’m not something fragile that needs to be protected from every feeling, Luca.”
“This isn’t about fragility.”
“Then what is it?”
Her brows rise.
“Do you believe what everyone else believes? That I’m a spoiled little rich girl who gets everything she wants?”
“No.”
The answer is immediate.
Surprise flashes across her face.
“Not anymore.”
Her hands remain against my chest.
“I think you’re brave.”
She becomes still.
“I think you feel everything so loudly that you create noise to keep anyone from hearing it.”
Her lips part.
“I think you hide how deeply you care because you’re afraid someone will use it against you.”
I’ve seen those parts of her.
In the hospital.
Onstage.
Inside the studio when the music wouldn’t obey her.
“I think you’re intelligent. Passionate. More talented than I ever understood.”
Her eyes shine.
“I think you work twice as hard because you know people will credit your father for anything you achieve.”
Her fingers flex against me.
“You pretend the world is beneath you, but what you really want is for someone to take you seriously.”
I lift one hand and touch her wet cheek.
“To look at you and see Simone.”
Her breathing trembles.
“I see you.”
The confession leaves me exposed in a way no weapon ever has.
Simone stares as though I opened her chest and touched something no one else knew was there.
Then her expression hardens with resolve.
“Stop being a fucking coward and kiss me.”
My thumb freezes against her skin.
“If you meant any of that, kiss me.”
Her voice lowers.
“Kiss me like you mean it.”
The command ignites everything I have tried to extinguish since her eighteenth birthday.
I don’t move yet.
There are things that must be clear.
“You’re sober?”
She almost smiles.
“Painfully.”
“Your head?”
“Doesn’t hurt. I’m not dizzy or confused.”
“Your arm?”
“Sore. Not enough to stop me.”
I hold her gaze.
“Do you want me?”
“Yes.”
“Say it again.”
“I want you, Luca.”
The last barrier inside me breaks.
I close the distance and claim her mouth.
Her gasp disappears between my lips.
One hand wraps around my neck while the other slides into my hair and grips the strands.
She melts against me.
Her breasts press to my chest, nipples hard against my skin.
I slide both hands down her body and lift her.
Simone wraps her legs around my waist without hesitation.
Her bare sex presses against my cock.
I groan into her mouth.
The kiss becomes deeper.
Hungrier.
Her tongue moves against mine while I grip her ass and pull her tightly against me.
She rolls her hips.
Friction sends white heat racing up my spine.
I leave her mouth and drag my lips over her jaw.
Her throat.
The curve where her neck meets her shoulder.
She shivers as I bite gently and soothe the mark with my tongue.
“Luca.”
My name is a breathless plea.
Her fingers tighten in my hair.
“I need you.”
Fuck.
I carry her toward the bank.
Her lips move over my neck while the water parts around us.
Every breath she takes is fast and hot against my skin.
When my feet reach solid ground, I lower her carefully onto my jacket.
My pistol remains close enough to reach.
I listen once more.
Nothing but wind, water, and Simone’s breathing.
She props herself on her elbows.
Her wet hair clings to her shoulders, and moonlight glistens across her breasts and stomach.
She looks like something dragged directly from my darkest fantasies.
Raw.
Unfiltered.
Mine for as long as she chooses to be.
I lower myself between her thighs and kiss her again.
A shudder runs through her when I suck her tongue into my mouth.
My fingers find one hardened nipple and circle it slowly.
“Luca.”
Her hips lift.
I roll the sensitive peak between my thumb and forefinger.
“I want to watch you touch yourself.”
Her eyes widen.
I release her nipple and sit back.
“I want to see exactly how you make yourself come when you’re thinking about me.”
Her breathing grows heavier.
I spread her knees.
Simone watches me as she slides one hand down her stomach.
Her fingers reach the soft curls between her thighs.
Then she strokes herself.
Slowly.
Her fingertips glide through the wetness gathering along her slit before circling her clit.
A quiet moan leaves her.
My hands tighten around her knees.
“What are you imagining?”
“You.”
“Doing what?”
Her eyes open.
“Fucking me.”
Her fingers move faster.
“Really, really well.”
My restraint collapses.
I catch her wrist and draw her hand toward my mouth.
Then I suck her wet fingers between my lips.
Simone’s eyes darken.
I taste her.
Sweet.
Warm.
Addictive.
Her thighs fall farther apart as I lower my mouth between them.