Page 65 of Hopeless Romantic
“You going to finish what you started?” She toyed with the neckline of her blouse. “Or do you need some help?”
“I always finish what I start.” He captured her hands in his, bringing them to his mouth to give her fingers a playful nip. “The question is, will you be able to handle it?”
She teasingly rolled her eyes. “Which brings us to rule number four. No calling, texting, sexting, or otherwise communicating about your alleged sexual prowess.”
“There’s nothing alleged about it.” When she chuckled, he added, “Do I sense another bet coming on?”
“Didn’t go so well for you last time, big guy.”
He gave a low, sexy laugh. “I’m having one of the best non-dates of my life with a woman whose lips taste like horchata. And she just issued a challenge I’m dying to accept.”
Without warning, Levi covered her mouth with his. No hesitation, no tentative brushes this time. Oh no, Levi kissed her with single-minded purpose: to show her just how hard he was going to rock her world.
Note to self: Never, ever, ever challenge Levi.
Because,oh man, was she ever in trouble. He teased and kissed, one hand fisted in her hair, the other roaming down her back to her bottom, languidly taking his time until she was quivering beneath him and he’d proven his point.
And when he pulled back, they were both breathing hard, and Beckett was clinging to him like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.
“You warm enough?” he asked.
“If I say yes, will you finish helping me out of my clothes?”
“There is nothing I want more than to know if you match up your lace as well as your socks,” he said gruffly, spanning a hand over her hip, making her feel petite and incredibly feminine. “Except to know what makes you . . . you.”
“Are you trying to figure me out?” she asked. “Because that could take a while.”
“What’s the rush?”
Biting her lip, she spoke softly. “You’re leaving in a few months, remember?”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the time we have.”
“Those are big words for a first non-date,” Beckett joked, hoping he’d laugh and stop looking at her as though she were special. He didn’t laugh, and the flutters got worse.
“This is an important first non-date. And you’re worth big words.” And if that wasn’t the most romantic thing in the world, he added, “You’re worth a hell of a lot a more than the Bruces and Steves of the world.”
“What’s wrong with the Bruces and Steves?” she asked.
“I can make a list for you later. That you had to ask will be at the top.” His fingers slipped over her hip to her lower back. “When I get you naked, it won’t be a guessing game. I’ll know what you like, what you love, and what you’ll want for breakfast come morning.”
She liked how up front he was, loved how his fingers slid under her shirt to the bare skin beneath, and as for the breakfast—she hoped he’d be on the menu. But he seemed to have a set pace and plan in mind, which was great, since her plan hadn’t extended past the red top and boots.
“The matching socks,” she whispered. “They were worth it.”
“And I haven’t even hung the moon yet,” he said with a boyish smile that sparked a giddiness inside, a bold recklessness that fueled the hope that maybe she could have something of her own. Something that was all hers, even if only temporarily. Despite all ginormous signs that this was an incredibly idiotic idea. But that was a problem for another time. Right now, she wanted to be present and enjoy what had turned out to be a wonderful night.
So when he rolled onto his back and pulled her close, she snuggled into the crook of his shoulder. Face tilted skyward, she watched the stars overhead, millions of them flickering in the otherwise black night.
“There are so many stars,” she whispered.
“It’s not as beautiful as being in the middle of the ocean, but it’s a close second,” he admitted. “If I close my eyes and listen to the crashing waves, breathe in the ocean mist, I can almost feel the boat sway beneath me.”
Beckett closed her eyes and breathed in deep, letting the steady pounding of the surf lull her into deep, rhythmic breathing. Levi’s arms slid around her, pulling her close, and she threaded their fingers together.
“Do you miss it? Sailing?”
“Yeah.” She felt the word rumble through her. “Out there, time slows down until it’s just you and the water. The farther you get from shore, the more the noise and confusion fades, until it becomes quiet enough to think. About important things.”
