Page 59 of Hula Girl

“Yeah?”

“Can you get that hair tie for me?”

He looks at the counter and locates what I’ve requested, handing it to me.

“Thank you.” I quickly secure my hair on top of my head without having to get up from my position of leaning against the end of the tub.

“Sure. I’ll—”

“No, stay. Talk to me. Keep me company,” I tell him.

His gaze slowly travels over me, moving from my eyes downward to my bubbles-covered chest and to where my knees are just above the waterline before he nods. Grabbing a towel, he places it on the edge of the tub and sits.

“So—”

“Should we—”

We both start speaking at the same time and stop short, watching each other with a smile.

“I thought maybe we could plan what’s going to happen in the next few days,” I say, ever practical. I am not usually a “wing it” kind of girl. I like to prepare, to study, to have the best sense of what’s to come.

“Yeah, sure.”

I realize with his distracted response that having a planning session with me naked in the tub may not be the most efficient way of doing things. But here we are.

“I think it’s a good idea for us to get to know each other a bit more before I bring you home to my mom,” I say. “She’ll trust you more if we can show we have some kind of relationship beyond—”

“Beyond hot sex in Maui?”

Smiling, I can’t resist the tease of what I say next. “It was hot, wasn’t it? Remember out on the balcony of my hotel room?”

He looks pained in the way only a man who has to restrain himself can. “Inside my truck was pretty damn hot, too,” he says.

“Or when you licked the tequila off my thigh? That wasreallyhot.”

To my surprise, he reaches into the water and his hand glides along my inner thigh. “This thigh?” he murmurs.

All I can do is nod, my eyes locked onto his as he keeps his hand where it is but moves to his knees by the side of the tub. He squeezes my leg but doesn’t move his hand any farther up, building the anticipation. To spur him along, I sit up just enough for the bubbles to slide down my chest. His eyes leave mine and linger on my breasts, following the trail of suds as they trickle over my nipples.

“Jesus, Ava,” he breathes and slides his hand upward. At the same time, he leans in and takes my mouth in his, kissing me with unrestrained passion. His tongue searches mine as our lips crash together over and over.

Whether it’s a good idea or not, we both clearly want this.

“Get me a towel?” I ask.

He’s thrown by the sudden interruption, but only for a moment. When he stands, I can see that he’s just as turned on as I am. His suit pants are straining at the crotch, giving me ideas for how to help him alleviate the situation.

I stand when he holds out a towel for me with one hand and offers his other hand to help me out. The fact that he’s both a gentleman and the one who is about to ravage me sends a rush of heat to my core.

Once my feet are on the plush bath rug, he wraps the towel around my body, taking care to smooth it down my arms, back, and butt. There, actually, he takes extra care, squeezing my ass with his strong hands. He sucks in a breath when I, in turn, rub the hard length of him.

“I have missed you,” he says softly, lust thick in his voice.

Raising myself onto my tiptoes, I kiss the side of his neck. “How bad?” I whisper.

He pulls my towel open so that it’s only covering my shoulders. I watch as his eyes survey my naked body, trailing over every inch of me in the same slow, deliberate way he did when we first met. This time, though, he does nothing to hide the hunger in his eyes.

“I’ll show you.”

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