His mouth is on me, and I happen to take a picture at the exact moment his lips meet the corner of mine.
My sharp inhale echoes between us.
All thoughts escape me, and the island ceases to exist.
He licks his lips again like he did before I snapped the first shot, and I drop my arm that holds the phone, my chest heaving.
It’s the same look he gave me while we were swimming.
When his rugged hands were on me.
A soft breeze caresses my cheek, but it does nothing to cool me off.
I close my eyes as Xander closes the little distance between us and crushes his lips to mine in a kiss so unexpected and passionate, my knees buckle.
Immediately, I press myself flush against him and tangle my tongue with his like we know this dance already, even though we’ve never kissed before.
I’ve never been kissed by anyone like this before.
It’s electric.
Heady.
He kisses me with fervor like it’s his last minute on earth, and it sends my nerves into overdrive.
He fists my hair, his grip firm and confident, and I gasp into his mouth, tugging on his T-shirt. I pull it over his head, breaking the kiss for mere seconds. Once the shirt is tossed to the side, he covers my mouth with his again and slips his skilled tongue between my already swollen lips, drinking me in.
Sucking.
Teasing.
It’s a precursor to the things he would do to me if we were both completely naked, and I want to experience it.
I’ve never been more certain of anything.
“God,” I breathe, deepening our kiss further, and he meets me in the middle with urgency, sliding his hands down the column of my neck and over my shoulders, until he reaches my hips.
He digs his fingers into my skin and hoists me up, pushing my back against the closed sliding glass door. I wrap my legs around him and squeeze, never interrupting our kiss, which turns messy.
Wild.
Taunting.
I’m so lost in it that I don’t realize Xander moves his hand from my hip to the door and opens it.
Once we’re inside, the cool air of the AC hits my slick skin, and I moan—loudly.
It seems to spur him on, because Xander spins us in place until my back slams against the wall and rattles the flower painting by the lamp. Our movements grow more hurried. More heat flashes down my spine, and my hands dive into his hair, roughly tugging him to stay close as he claws at my clothes.
Anticipation pools in my center, and our combined pants are in sync like joined hands.
I want him.
Now.
The lamp falls, and the crash echoes somewhere in the distance. It’s too muffled by our needy explosion of lust, grunts, and whimpers as the salty remnants of the ocean on my body mix with his.
I bump into the office chair, and Xander rolls it aside with one hand, then props me up onto the desk, his movements chaotic and jerky.