Brett found her on a beach towel large enough for two full-grown men to use at once. He paused in his approach and watched her apply sunscreen to her right leg. She started at her ankle and moved her hands up, similar to the way he’d touched her in his dream. In his dream though, he hadn’t used hands. Instead he’d used his lips and tongue, moving up over her thigh and not stopping until he reached between her legs. Then he’d proceeded to pleasure her until she called out his name. He’d woken up hard and extremely uncomfortable Tuesday night. The dream had made a repeat performance last night.
He dropped the cooler he’d brought down before taking a seat. His eyes roamed across her bare legs. “Need any help?” He wasn’t above applying sunscreen if it meant getting his hands on her naked skin.
“Can you get my back?” She looked at him, but the sunglasses she’d slipped on hid her eyes from him. He understood why she’d put them on, but he’d prefer to see her eyes. Eyes told you a lot about what a person was thinking and feeling. With hers covered, he found himself at a disadvantage.
She held the sunscreen toward him. “I’ll return the favor,” she said.
Jen’s bathing suit top tied around her neck, leaving much of her back and shoulders bare. A dusting of freckles covered her shoulders, and he wondered if she had some anywhere else. The modest swimsuit covered more than it revealed, a definite downside as far as he was concerned.
His hands glided over silky skin, and he took his time covering her shoulders. Before she became suspicious or complained he was taking too long, he moved his attention to her back and then lower across her spine.
She sighed before turning around to look at him. Brett’s gazed focused on her lips. “Your turn.” She moved into a kneeling position and waited for him to turn.
In the parking garage, she’d moved before he could kiss her. With her lips locked in his sights again, he intended to reach his target this time.
He grazed her lips with his and planted his hands on either side of her waist. He kept the kiss undemanding until he felt her relax beneath his palms. Leaning into him, Jen slipped her arms over his shoulders. Changing the angle of his head, he moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness. Before he could do it, she urged his lips apart and dipped her tongue inside his mouth, sending a wave of lust and desire through his body.
In his head, he ran through the best ways to get them both horizontal. The sudden bump to the head stopped him from executing any of them.
“What the…?” He pulled away and found a football near his feet. Glancing up, he scanned the area as a teenage girl jogged toward them. They’d had the beach to themselves when he came outside. The teen headed their way said the situation had changed.
“Sorry,” the girl said nervously when she reached them. “My stupid brother threw it over my head.” She pointed over her shoulder.
Brett looked past the girl toward the house next door. Another teenager, perhaps two or three years older than the girl, stood on the beach with a smirk on his face. Three others remained on the deck. Accidents happened, but the teenager’s expression said this hadn’t been an accident. He’d aimed for Brett’s head.
“Don’t worry about it.” Picking up the ball, he tossed it back to the girl. “Tell your brother to be more careful.”
“I will,” she promised before jogging away.
With others on the beach, any thoughts he had of taking things further went on hold. Later he’d probably be happy about that. The occasional one-night stand was fine, but he was ready for more in his life. Now that he was living in New England again, he intended to see if he could have it with Jen, because at some point in the past year, his feelings for her had changed from mere friendship to something else. Her response to his kiss suggested the same on her end.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Fine for the moment. But if you don’t get some sunscreen on my back soon, we’ll have a problem.” With a bunch of teenagers hanging around next door, they needed to keep their hands and lips to themselves as long as they were outside. Applying sunscreen to his body would give them an acceptable excuse to touch. He’d take what he could get for the immediate future.
***
The guy could grill. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t cook anything on a grill. It always came out one of two ways: burned past recognition, or black on the outside but raw on the inside. Despite having a practically brand-new gas grill in her backyard, she hadn’t cooked on it once all summer. Instead, either Dad or her brother-in-law used it when they came over for a cookout. In return, she handled all the sides and desserts. She might not be able to grill, but she loved baking. And she was darn good at it, if she did say so herself.
He’s an even better kisser. Jen watched him through the glass doors. She’d laughed when Kristen said Dan didn’t merely kiss her, but made love to her mouth. After this morning, she knew what her sister meant. She’d felt Brett’s kiss everywhere. If not for the teens on the beach with them, she would’ve tried for another. Unfortunately, the teens who had interrupted them hours ago had remained on the beach until after Brett finished grilling their steaks. And while the group was gone now, it was anyone’s guess when they or any other residents might return to enjoy the beach.
The glass door slid open, and Brett stepped out on the deck. Before he started cooking, he’d thrown on a T-shirt, much to her disapproval. Unfortunately, he still wore it now.
“Sorry about that.” He dropped into the padded deck chair next to her.
She’d had time to enjoy a gorgeous view and the sunshine. She had nothing to complain about. “Don’t worry about it. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it was Carl.”
She knew all his relatives’ names, or at least she thought she did. Carl didn’t sound familiar. “Carl? Another cousin?”
Brett reached across the space separating them and tucked the loose strand of hair dancing against her cheek behind her ear. “No. I thought I told you. I hired Carl Filmore to run my campaign. He called to let me know we have about half the signatures necessary to get me on the ballot for the upcoming primary.”
She didn’t know the exact number of signatures required. Considering they were talking about the United States Senate and not a state-level position, she guessed it was a lot. “Already?”
“Name recognition has its perks. Having an uncle who is also a popular president in the White House helps too.”
It was the first time he’d made any comment about how influential and well known his family was. “When we started exchanging letters, I assumed it was a coincidence your name was Brett Sherbrooke.”