He said nothing for a long moment, obviously surprised at her tears. “Tell me,” he said.
“I can’t.” She shook her head, allowing her hair to fall forward in a sheet, obscuring her face.
“Then show me.”
“No!”
When he reached for her skirts, she frantically pushed them back down. They struggled for a moment, and then he grasped her hands. “Let’s not fight.” He sank down to his knees, taking her with him. “I don’t know what you’re hiding, but I can only say that to me, you are perfect.”
Her head shot up, and she stared at him. “Liar.”
He chuckled. “Very well. As close to perfect as any woman could be. It was dark that first night. I saw far too little of your body.” He pushed her hair back from her face again, his hand lingering on her cheek. “That was my only regret. That I never caught a glimpse of you gloriously naked.”
She inhaled sharply. “There would be nothing glorious about it, I assure you.”
“You will have to allow me to decide that for myself.”
She shook her head, and he caught her chin. “But not tonight. It’s too dark for me to see any more than I did that night. But I can feel.” His hand stroked down her chin, across her shoulder, and along her arm. He dragged down the sleeve of the loose blouse, exposing the swells of her breast. She might have resisted, but her head was swimming with rum and new revelations.
“I can touch.” He bent to her breast. “I can kiss.” His warm lips kissed first one breast and then the other. His hands cupped her waist and slid up to test the weight of her breasts. When his thumb brushed over her extended nipple, she groaned. “Now it’s more than the material rubbing against you,” he murmured. His thumb worked her hard flesh in slow circles. “Are you aching for me? For my skin on your skin? My tongue on your skin?”
“Yes. Please.” His hands were suddenly gone, and the bodice followed. And then his hot mouth covered her, replacing the shock of cool air on her skin. His tongue lapped the hard point and suckled her. She thrust into his mouth, and he sucked harder until she felt an answering pull deep in her belly.
He paused to lift his head and remove her blouse. She knelt, naked from the waist up, before him. The night was dark, but the stars were countless and bright enough that she knew he could see something of her body. He sat back, looked at her for a long moment, then reached for her again.
“Not so fast,” she said. “Take off your shirt.”
He grinned at her—at least she assumed he did from the flash of white teeth she saw. “Your wish is my command.” He pulled the shirt from his trousers and tugged it over his head. Tentatively, she reached out and ran a hand over his hard, muscled torso. She could picture his chest in her mind, and her breath quickened. His arms came around her, pulling her against him, so their flesh made delicious contact, and she felt that spot between her legs throb. He felt so good. Touching him like this felt so good.
He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her gently, his hands on her back, making her shiver with his long, languorous strokes. His lips slanted over hers, tasting her, and then he entered her with his tongue, filling her and stroking her. As his kiss grew more passionate, so did his caresses, and soon his hands dipped into the waist of her skirt.
It took her a moment to realize he was slipping it off, and she cried out and pushed back. “No.”
He was breathing hard, but he made no move to grab her back. “What did I do?”
“I can’t—I don’t—” She swallowed. “My skirt stays on.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!”
He was quiet for a long moment, and then his arms came around her again. “Is this about your leg?”
She ducked her head, hoping her silence answered for her. Everything was spinning, and she was so deliciously warm. But she could not forget. She could never forget.
“I see, and I remember now,” he said.
She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “Remember?” She looked up at him, forgetting she could not see his expression. But she could feel his strong arms around her. She could feel the way he held her, the tension in his body, showing her that he wanted her, that he restrained himself only because she’d asked him to.
“That night. I wanted to lift your skirts and kiss you, but you kept pushing them down. You kept pulling my head back to your lips.”
She remembered as well. She’d been so afraid he would see her burnt flesh and shudder with revulsion. “I think we did very well, even without you kissing my legs.”
He laughed. “I didn’t want to kiss your leg, Ashley. I wanted to kiss you far more intimately.”
“I don’t...” She paused. “But you can’t mean...” She actually felt her cheeks heating as warmth flooded into her face. Thank God for the weak starlight.
“Why don’t I show you, my little innocent?” Gently, he pushed her back on the sand, and she felt its warm, soft texture on the bare skin of her back. She was so intrigued by what he implied, she forgot to resist when he lowered her to her back. But when he tried to lift her skirts, she batted his hand away.
