“Let’s go home,” he said against those lips.
“The party—”
“Is going to be fine without us.”
She lifted her head and stared at him, and he did the best he could to look like something she couldn’t live without. When she smiled and took his hand, he felt like he’d just won an amazing prize.
Chapter 28
Jacob brought Sophie to his cabin, a place that felt more like home to him than any other place ever had. And if he played his cards right and also got very, very lucky, it might someday be the place she felt that way about as well.
He left the lights off. He opened the windows so that they could hear the music from the beach but kept the shutters closed enough that no one could see in. Then he slowly pulled Sophie in to him. They spent long moments swaying to the beat before he nudged her face to his and kissed her.
When they broke apart for air, he stared into her eyes and felt his heart roll over in his chest and expose its underbelly. “You’re so beautiful,” he said.
“Don’t.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to do that, Jacob. I’m here. I’m a sure thing tonight.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” he said. “I’ll cancel the string quartet and five dozen roses about to be delivered, and I’ll stop wondering if you’re going to be scared off by the ten cases of condoms I just bought.”
She laughed, her fingers smoothing their way up his chest, around his shoulders, and into his hair, making him want to purr. “Ten cases, huh?” she teased. “Cocky much?”
“Okay, maybe just one case. And it’s called ‘hopeful.’”
She laughed again. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?” she asked softly, nipping at his lower lip. “A sure thing?”
Truthfully? He had no idea what she was thinking, or even what he was thinking—other than he’d trained himself not to count on anything as a sure thing.
She stared at him for a beat and then proved she was a mind reader. “You claimed me out there on the dance floor tonight,” she said with a small smile. “All cocky as hell. I mean, you might as well have peed in a circle around me. Do you want to know why that didn’t make me mad?”
Since she was still running her fingers through his hair and he was quickly turning into a puddle of goo, he shook his head.
“Because I’ve claimed you too. Love it or leave it,” she said, cracking open something deep inside of him that him hauling her in even closer. Nothing was between them now except her sundress and his T-shirt and board shorts, and even that was way too much.
She must have felt the same way because she backed away from him and, with a little smile, nudged the spaghetti straps off her shoulders so that they fell to her elbows. Then, with that smile going more than a little naughty, she turned her back on him and started walking slowly to his bedroom, hips gently swinging with casual grace as she reached behind her and unzipped her dress.
And then let it fall.
And then walked right out of it in nothing but a very tiny pair of panties and vanished into his room.
Sophie barely got past the doorway before he grabbed her hand. One thing she could say about him, he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
And she was definitely a challenge.
Eyes locked on hers, his own dark and heated, he pulled her in to him, kicking the door shut behind them. He had her up against the closed door, hands locked around her wrists, his lips devouring hers before she had time to breathe.
That was okay. She’d breathe later. All she needed now was him, and she gave herself over to it, to him, losing herself in the power of what he made her feel.
When they finally pulled apart, panting, staring at each other, he seemed to have enough control left to assess the situation and took action accordingly, yanking his shirt over his head and shoving his shorts down and off. He immediately locked her against him again, letting go of her arms only to lift her up by the backs of her thighs effortlessly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and held on as he turned and walked to the bed with a casual strength that thrilled her.
And then he was tumbling her down to the bed. She landed on her back, where Jacob hooked his thumbs in the sides of her undies and slowly tugged them down her thighs, sending them sailing over his shoulder.
He looked down at her and groaned. “Damn, Soph,” he murmured, reverently running his hands up her legs, letting his thumbs meet in the middle to lightly stroke over her. “You’re wet for me.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I’ve been this way since watching you wakeboard earlier,” she admitted.