Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Milo
It’s quiet inside. The ceiling fan spins lazy circles overhead, doing nothing to cut the humid restlessness buzzing under my skin. I stand in the entryway for a second, listening. The only sounds are the distant hum of waves and the faint bubbling of the hot tub.
Dragging a hand through my hair, I mutter a curse word or two under my breath. Sleep isn’t happening. Not with her less than twenty feet away, probably curled up in that oversized shirt she wears to bed every night.
The hot tub is what I need. Hot water to loosen the knots in my shoulders, steam to clear my head, and bubbles to drown out the thoughts that have been looping through my mind all evening.
I head into my room, strip down, and pull on my board shorts before padding barefoot through the living area. The deck doors are already half open. I slide them wider and step outside.
The deck is bathed in moonlight, the ocean a dark, shimmering expanse below. And the hot tub is already occupied by the woman who’s been dominating my mind all damn night.
Sienna has her head resting against the edge with her eyes closed, one arm draped lazily along the side, while the other holds a hollowed-out pineapple cocktail above the bubbling water.
She’s beautiful in a way that hits me like a punch to the gut every single time. The way the water clings to her collarbone, the way her lashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks, the way her lips part slightly like she’s sharing secrets only the stars know.
“Took you long enough,” she murmurs, not opening her eyes. “Was starting to think you’d burn a hole into the side of my head if you stared any longer.”
I freeze in the doorway. “How’d you know it was me?”
She smiles without looking. “Your footsteps. It’s like you’re always thinking about exactly where you’re going.”
I step closer, stopping at the edge of the hot tub. My bare chest suddenly feels cold against the warm, steamy air. “That’s… oddly observant.”
She shrugs and finally opens her eyes. They’re dark and sparkling in the moonlight. She tilts her head toward the other side of the hot tub. “Come on, get in,” she says. “The water is perfect.”
“Not the only thing that’s perfect.” I mutter under my breath.
She sips her cocktail, the little umbrella brushing her lip. “You flirting with me, Milo?”
I don’t answer her. Instead, I step into the hot tub.
The water is almost scalding against my skin as I sink opposite her, bubbles churning around my legs.
Our knees brush beneath the surface, but neither of us pulls away.
The simple contact sends a sharp bolt of electricity up my thigh and into my groin.
She watches me settle, her gaze tracing my shoulders, my chest, the way the water laps at my waist. She doesn’t hide it, and I love that about her.
“You look good when you’re wet.” She muses, head tilted.
I swallow hard. “You look good always.”
She smiles. “You are flirting with me.”
I don’t deny it.
We fall into a comfortable silence, the hot tub humming softly as steam rises between us. She stretches her legs farther, her toes brushing the outside of my thigh. A shiver rolls down my spine.
Sienna takes another sip of her cocktail, then holds it out to me. “Want to try some?”
I take it, our fingers brushing. Bringing the straw to my lips, I instantly cough when the liquid hits my throat. It’s stronger than the one I had earlier—tequila and lime this time.
Sienna laughs when she takes it back. “It’s fun, right? I asked them not to go gentle with the tequila. And well… as you can tell, they didn’t.”
“Fun…” I echo, looking her directly in the eyes. “That’s the rule, right?”
She nods, eyes drifting up to the stars. “Fun only. No feelings. No… complications.”
I watch the way the moonlight catches her lashes. “You say that like it’s easy.”
“It’s meant to be,” she replies, glancing back at me, searching my face. “Isn’t it for you?”
I hesitate. I could lie. Tell her it’s easy. But it isn’t… not really. It’s complicated in a way I can’t put into words right now.
“It’s… manageable.” I finally say.
Sienna laughs softly, and another silence stretches between us, longer this time. She sets the pineapple on the edge, then moves closer until the space between us disappears. Her knee presses firmly against my thigh, and another bolt of heat shoots straight through me.
She looks at me, eyes dark and a little uncertain, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You keep saying ‘manageable,’ but you don’t look like a man who’s managing anything.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m not.”
Her head tilts. “Then what are you?”
“Wanting.”
Her breath catches. “Wanting what?”
I let my hand drift up through the water, fingertips grazing her arm. She shivers. “More than this,” I say quietly.
I never thought I’d admit it out loud. I’ve known this woman for barely five days, and she’s already doing something to me no one else ever has. She’s making me feel things I didn’t expect. Want things I never planned for.
It might just be vacation chemistry.
I might just be one horny motherfucker after being celibate for months.
But whatever the fuck is happening right now, it’s happening because of her.
She looks at me, diverts her gaze toward the moon for a heartbeat, then our eyes connect again. For a split second, she hesitates, breath catching like she’s still fighting the last thread of restraint. Then her expression shifts—something wild and decisive flashing in her eyes.
“Fuck it.” She breathes.
And then she moves. Not slowly. Not tentatively. She pushes forward, water swirling around her as she straddles my lap. Her knees sink into the seat on either side of my hips, her body pressing flush against mine.
The thin fabric of her bikini top does nothing to hide how hard her nipples are against my chest. My hands find her waist instinctively, fingers digging into her hips to steady her… to steady myself.
Before I can process anything, her mouth crashes into mine.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It’s teeth-clashing, desperate, hungry—lips catching and tongues tangling like we’ve both been starving for this.
Her hands cup my face, fingers threading into my hair, pulling me closer like she can’t get deep enough.
I groan into her mouth and kiss her back with everything I’ve been holding in for days. My tongue finds hers, tasting pineapple, tequila, and her.
It’s not enough.
It’s never going to be enough.
Sliding one hand up her back, fingers splayed between her shoulder blades, I press her closer to me. My other hand rests on her hip, my thumb brushing the edge of her bikini bottom as she shivers.
She rocks forward, and I feel her heat through the thin fabric as she grinds against me. I break the kiss to drag my mouth along her jaw and down her throat. She tilts her head back, offering more skin, and a soft moan escapes as my teeth graze her racing pulse.
“Fuck, Sienna,” I breathe against her flushed skin. “You taste like trouble.”
“The best kind, I hope.” She whispers, breathlessly.
Gently cradling her cheeks, I press my lips back to hers and kiss her again, slower this time. Deeper. More deliberate. Her hips roll again, teasing. I groan, gripping her ass, pulling her harder against me.
She breaks away from the kiss first, gasping, forehead pressed to mine. “I don’t want to mess this up,” she whispers. “I don’t want to go too far before my brain catches up with… whatever this is.”
I nod, even though every part of me is screaming to keep going. “Yeah. I get it.”
She kisses me again, and when she pulls back, her eyes are bright and almost vulnerable. “But I really don’t want to stop either.”
“Neither do I,” I brush a damp curl off her cheek. “Not even a little.”
She stays on my lap a moment longer, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my chest. Then she sighs and slowly shifts back. “I should probably go to bed before we both do something we can’t take back.”
I nod, jaw tight. Every cell in my body hates this decision. “Yeah. Go to bed, Sienna.”
She stands, water streaming down her body in rivulets, and gives me one last lingering look before slipping out of the hot tub and heading inside.
I stay in the water long after she’s gone, letting the bubbles and the cool night air try to calm the fire she just ignited inside me.
It doesn’t work.
I don’t think anything ever will.
Suddenly, the countdown to flying back home no longer feels like a deadline… it feels like the beginning of something new. Something worth fighting for. Something extraordinary.