Page 28 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
“Ah.” He swatted my rump and shifted the backpack off his shoulders.
I took it from him. “You wanna give me…ten minutes? To freshen up?”
Jackson grumbled and turned his mouth to the side of my neck, suckling and biting until I squirmed. “Can you make it five?” He nipped at my ear. “That bed isbeggingto be broken in.”
“It is. But I’d like to check for bed bugs first…”
“Ugh,babe.”
“You know I feel better when I check.”
“That’s just…It’s weird.”
“Ten minutes! I promise.” I giggled when he pulled me flush against him, grinding his crotch into mine. “Okay, maybe five.”
“Better.” He gripped my backside with two hands, squeezing possessively, before he gave me another playful swat and sent me on my way.
“Pippi!”Jackson hollered. “They’reswimmingout in the water.”
I blinked at my groggy reflection in the bathroom mirror as I hooked a hoop earring into my left ear. Groggy because I’d power napped for four hours, after Jackson and I had broken in our bed, and was still a little sleep drunk. “What?”
I’d misheard him.Surely.
“There’s a whole group of them down there,” he called.
“Down where?”
“In the water!”
My stomach, still very unsettled and wiggly, flipped itself around a loop-de-loop. “Are they mad?” I fastened my other earring into place and hastily zipped myself into my blue polka dot dress. “With those waves they’ll drown!”
“The waves are gone.” Jackson bounded into the bathroom, grinning from ear to ear, and drummed his fingers against the doorframe. “And it’s supershallow. One lady walked almost clear across without it surpassing her waist. So I checked the map”—he whisked the brochure we’d gotten from the check-in desk out of his pocket—“andwe’re overlooking the inlet. Because this has tide times marked for the inlet, and the tide is definitely out right now. We should go swimming.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Wha—No. I-I just got dressed for dinner.” I turned in a little half twirl, letting the dress swish around my ankles, as I fought the panic swilling in my stomach again.
He chuffed. “Not right now, obviously. After dinner, for sure. Maybe a little moonlit swim.”
“Uh…”
“Tide should be out ‘til midnight.” Jackson shook the brochure.
“That’s not…I mean…I didn’t pack a bathing suit.”
Jackson tucked his chin down, flashing me an impish grin. “For what I have planned, a bathing suit wouldn’t last long, anyway.Especiallywith you looking like that.” He dragged his eyes over my backside as I returned to the mirror to check on my still-drying hair.
“You’re not looking too shabby yourself.” I eyed his loose-fitting grey-washed jeans and pastel blue polo shirt—a shirt which wasdeliciouslytight on him—hugging his broad shoulders and bulging pecs, leaving very little to the imagination.
Jackson grinned and puffed his chest out, preening.
I gave my bum a little shake and got rewarded with one of his sexy rumble laughs, deep and masculine, which usually lit spindles of desire in my veins.Usually.
At the moment, not even a full fireball of desire could thaw the icy feelings gnawing at my insides.
“I’d pull your hair back though,” Jackson said, watching me in the mirror as I scrunched my curls. “It’ll just get all poofy.”
“Yeah,” I sighed, conceding defeat, and busted out my scrunchie. “Humidity is not a friend to the curly-haired folk. So, what are you feeling like for dinner tonight?” I asked.
His brow rose.
