Page 21 of Grounds for Love

“Since the water is too cold to swim, I thought we’d try our hand at fishing. If you’re game.”

What the heck. “I’m up for trying and I won’t offer to cook what we catch.”

He stands and holds his hand out. “Come on, I know a great place to fish.”

Even though I know what’s going to happen when I touch his hand, I’m still not prepared for the shiver that runs through me. Without looking down at my bathing suit top, I know my nipples are hard and there’s a throbbing between my thighs. It makes no sense. How can a platonic touch make me so hot and bothered?

My rational side doesn’t want this, but my body has its own ideas. Like wondering what Rod is like in bed. Is he a gentle lover or does he like a more adventurous time in the bedroom? I wouldn’t have a clue how to be with someone like that.

Bryan and I had a very satisfying sexual relationship born from love. I always felt cherished when we made love. It was gentle, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t mindlessly satisfying, because it was.

Not paying attention, I stumble and would have fallen if Rod hadn’t wrapped a hand around my waist and pulled me against his chest. My heart starts beating like I’ve run a lap in the park and then I make the mistake of looking up into his eyes. He’s staring at my lips and I know he wants to kiss me. I desperately want him to.

My hand moves up to rest on his hard, broad chest. His heart is beating as rapidly as mine. His gaze moves up to mine and he says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to fall.”

I’m completely rusty at giving signals or being sexy, if I ever was, so I have no idea how to tell him to kiss me. “I…I,”

His lips twitch and he runs his thumb slowly over my bottom lip. “I love your blush.”

Darn, I hate how easily I blush. I seem to be doing it a lot around Rod.

Gently, his fingertips brush over my cheek. He leans forward and his breath flows over my face, but instead of the kiss my frantically beating heart wants, he says, “I’ll go get us underway. I can just taste dinner.”

His voice lowers and his eyes focus on my lips as he says taste. I may be out of practice, but I know he wasn’t talking about fish. As I watch, his tight ass runs up the stairs. I lean against the railing and want to jump overboard to cool off.

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