Page 55 of The Oscar Escape
A lone tear trailed down her cheek. It shattered his restraint. Driven by passion, he pressed his lips to hers and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. Their tongues met in a slick, sensual dance. His worries melted away. Nothing existed but the beat of the rain and the two of them wrapped in each other’s embrace. Like ocean waves rolling in and out, their mouths created a rhythm. Deep, all-consuming kisses led to breezy, willowy caresses. She tasted like chocolate paradise. Hints of the sea breeze clung to her damp hair. Her kisses were the homecoming he’d never believed he deserved. He’d ached for this kiss. A kiss that was ripe with redemption, desire, and a permanence he’d never imagined possible. With his breath in sync with hers, he slipped his hand into her hair, delighting in the coolness between his fingers. With her sighs and breathy moans coaxing him on, Aria overloaded his senses. A lightheadedness took over. He pulled back and broke their connection—not because he wanted to stop kissing her—but because he needed to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming.
She stroked his cheek. Her kiss-swollen lips shimmered in the dusky light. “Why did you stop?”
He rested his hand on hers. “I wanted to make sure you’re real.”
“You can see me. You’re the one who could always see me,” she answered, followed by a series of four pings and a gritty mechanical hum.
What were those noises?
Confusion marred Aria’s expression, and then she yelped as a blinding beam of light illuminated the lantern room.
Oh no!It was the lighthouse’s beacon coming to life.
“My eyes,” Aria shrieked, laughing as she nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck.
He squinted. The full force of the light was directed at his back, but it was still damned bright. “I’ve got you,” he said, laughing as he helped her off the railing. Taking her hand, he shielded his eyes and guided her out of the relentless golden glow. They only had to travel a few feet to get behind the lamp and position themselves in a less luminous spot.
Aria’s body vibrated with amusement. “Now that’s a first. I’m used to being in the spotlight, but that was next-level bright.”
“Can you see? Did the beacon fry your retinas?” he asked through a bout of laughter.
She blinked, giggled, and wiped tears from her cheeks. “Yeah, I’m good.” She looked around. “Coast Guard, if you can hear me, sorry about crashing your lantern room.”
Still laughing, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I told you I’d make this second kiss memorable.”
Okay, had he timed their second kiss with the beacon coming to life? Oh, hell no! He didn’t know a damned thing about how that shit worked. But he had no doubt that the blast of light would burn that kiss into both of their minds—and probably onto the back of Aria’s eyeballs.
“Well,” she said, losing the giggles and taking on a more seductive air. “If you oversaw the kiss, then it can be my job to make sure that what comes next is just as unforgettable. Teamwork makes the dream work.”
Christ, he was crazy about her.
And the woman didn’t waste a second. She wriggled out of her damp sweater, draped it over her shoulder, then took a few steps down the spiral staircase. Turning on her red-booted heel, she surveyed her lobster tank top. “I hope you have a thing for women covered in crustaceans.”
He gave her a theatrical once-over. “If music doesn’t work out for you, you’d kill it as a lobsterman’s pinup model.”
“A girl does need options.” She flashed a dirty grin, then flung her sweater at him.
He snapped it out of the air with one hand and tucked it under his arm. When he looked up, he caught the tail end of her stripping free of the tank top. He stood there and stared at a goddess in nothing but tight jeans and red rubber boots.
Now she was the one giving him a once-over. “It appears you’re experiencing a normal penis thing again.”
Even when she sounded downright ridiculous, it was fucking hot.
He unzipped his hoodie and popped the top button on his jeans. “Oh, I’ll show you a normal penis thing, Miss Lobsterman’s Wet Dream.”
She gasped, feigning outrage.
He geared up like he was a runner poised at the starting line. “I’ll give you a three-second head start. You better warn your naughty-down-there parts that I’m coming for them.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Is that a challenge?”
“Nope, it’s a goddamned promise.”
She shrieked a bouncy, playful sound. The next thing he heard was the clunk of her boots hitting the spiral staircase.
“Three, two . . . oh, to hell with it . . . I can’t wait.”
Their stampeding footsteps echoed in the lighthouse’s rocky cylinder. It only took a few seconds for him to catch up with her. He hit the landing and scooped her into his arms.
