It was anything but cold. She shook her head.
“Your pretty nipples are very hard for a girl who isn’t cold.” His fingers hovered over them, almost touching, but not quite. If she drew a deep breath he’d be touching her.
She ached for him low in her belly. The wetness she could feel between her thighs had to have given her away.
“Has anyone ever told you what a lovely body you have? It’s the perfect match for your face.”
She wanted to protest—to argue with him and point out flaws he’d obviously missed, but without permission to speak, all she could do was roll her eyes.
“What’s that eye roll for, Ophelia? You may speak.”
“You don’t have to feed me some bullshit line. You know I’m a sure thing at this point.”
“It’s not a bullshit line.”
“Well, then . . . your standards are pretty low.”
He grabbed her upper arm and turned her away from him so fast she didn’t have time to react. Three hard swats landed on her backside, stinging, making her squeak and try to pull free from his grasp.
/> “Ow!”
“That was a warning. Insult yourself again, no matter where we are, and you’ll get it worse.” Still holding her by the arm, he rubbed his other palm over the stinging spot, and warmth crept through her along with a pleasure that made her head feel floaty.
“Do you understand me, princess?” he growled in her ear.
She whimpered in confusion, wanting to die of embarrassment but desperately wanting him to spank her again. Longer and harder. Was that supposed to deter her from doing it again? What kind of a plan was that?
At the same time, she couldn’t believe he’d chastised her like a child. And she liked it!
The grip on her arm tightened and it was all she could do get her noodle legs to hold her upright. If she had an orgasm just from him bossing her around she was never going to be able to look him in the eye again.
“Yes, Luke,” she whispered.
He let go of her arm and she sagged, struggling to even out her breathing. God, this guy had her number.
“In the water now, horny girl. We’re going to rinse off before I tie you up.”
The river was pleasantly cool and refreshing after being stuck in the SUV for most of the day, but even the sensation of the current on her skin was heightening her arousal. Luke dove and swam like he’d been born in the water, splashing her, taunting her into splashing him back. He glided around her, their skin sometimes touching and sending sparks through her. Hell, he even looked good wet, with his dark hair slicked back. A few times she let herself touch his chest, shoving him playfully away. Once she let her finger stray over one of his nipple rings and was rewarded with a flash of heat behind his dark eyes.
It was dark by the time they got out, and her face hurt from smiling. When was the last time she’d played? It hadn’t been little kid-level play, not with them both being naked, but hanging out with Luke was . . . fun. And hot. Was hot fun even a thing?
Luke retrieved both towels. He wound one around his waist then wrapped the other around her, patting her dry as if she was a child and incapable of doing it herself. It was adorable and she kind of loved it.
When he’d dried her and squeezed most of the water from her hair, he kissed her—a slow, teasing brush of the lips that rekindled the heat that still lurked from earlier.
He tucked the end of her towel in to keep it on and gathered their clothes, then led her back to their campsite. In the twilight, he rebuilt a small campfire over the remains of the old one. It threw more light than she’d expected and took the chill from her skin.
For a few minutes he rooted through their day’s purchases in the tent, and came back with a bag. He’d put his jeans back on, but left his shirt off, and was looking particularly edible.
“What’s in the bag?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said. “Come with me.”
He walked to a nearby tree on the edge of the circle of firelight. She followed, wondering what they were doing now. Would he make her hike in her towel? She hoped not. She wasn’t even wearing shoes. Luckily the grass was thick here, but farther into the woods it wouldn’t be. He didn’t look like he was going anywhere, though.
Standing near him, she watched as he fiddled with some things she couldn’t quite see in the gloom, trying to ignore the flash of the pocketknife in his hand when the blade caught the firelight. What would it feel like to have it slide over her skin? It was hard to get the idea out of her head after he’d suggested cutting her shirt off earlier. Even though the danger of it appealed on some twisted level, she wasn’t ready for it to happen in real life anytime soon.
Luke threw the end of a rope and whatever was dangling from it over the overhead limb of the tree, and it fell back to hang just above her head. He beckoned to her and she went to him.