“You believe in the same things I do.”
A loud wave crashes and the sound reaches us. “Tell me what you believe in then.”
Grabbing my waist, he spins me to meet his icy gaze. I lose my breath. He licks his lips. I can’t look away. “Nobility. Bravery. Science. I believe in sacrifice. Patience.” Luke’s fingers slide down my face—on both sides. His eyes flick to my lips, then my eyes and back again. “I believe in trust. Responsibility. Respect.”
I’m so transfixed, I know I must look like a deer caught in headlights as I soak in his words. “I believe in kindness, self-discipline, and perseverance. Most of all,” he says, biting the corner of his lip, shaking his head once, then finishes, “I believe in this.” Pulling me toward him, he leans down and presses his lips against mine. They’re warmer than the air. His fingers twine through my hair, he pulls a bit to angle my head to the side.
Entrapped. Ensnared. Caught. Completely taken. I’m his. All things streaming through my entire body this very moment. It’s chills and heat. A prickling sensation blooming in my stomach that gives me strength and makes me weak at the same time. His tongue slips against mine. I crack my eyes open because the urge to see his face is strong. I’m floating, and he resembles an angel. The sight perfection clogs my throat. Kissing him is an out-of-body experience I’ve surely never experienced before. Now that I pair this connection with what came before it, there’s no coming back from this.
Luke groans as his large hands move their way down my sides to my ass. Clutching him to me, my fingers gripping his biceps, there’s only one way to grow closer. Everything below my belly button is on fire—aware of the testosterone taking over my senses. I can taste him like I’ve dreamed about. A minty, manly assault. Dipping, he grips the bottom of my mini dress and pulls it over my head. I have on a light green bikini top, something he breaks the kiss to look at. Dimples appear as he slips his fingers under the string around my neck.
“This works too.”
“Sorry about that whole my lips on your lips thing. Couldn’t really help myself.”
He’s staring at my chest.
I lift one brow. “You’re apologizing for kissing me?” Clasping my fingers around the back of his neck, I bring his face back to mine. “Never apologize for kissing me again. It’s not very noble.” Our grins match as I lift my chin up to his waiting, wet lips.
That decision he was talking about earlier, the one where once I choose something I’m loyal to it, well I’m pretty sure my mind is made up. It doesn’t feel well thought out, or cautious. In fact, it feels like wild reckless abandon I can’t get enough of.
