He arched an eyebrow in question.
She tapped her wrist, even though it was bare. She didn’t strike him as a watch wearer. “Lunch time. I’m hungry. So I decided to let you take me out to lunch as a reward for your showing up and following my napkin instructions. Plus, they have the best fish tacos on the Islands, and absolutely amazing coconut drinks,” she said, stepping closer and bumping her hip against him.
A groan rumbled in his chest. Why was the universe torturing him?
He forced his brain to take over. To focus on facts, not lust. Because it made no sense why she’d be hungry, since he’d seen her at a restaurant two hours ago, and she didn’t look like she noshed around the clock. This was another sign that she might be working for the enemy.
“I’m hungry, too. Let’s head to the Coconut Iguana.” He held out a hand, telling himself that lunch was the perfect opportunity to get to the heart of who this woman was. Since she knew Eli, she might be a valuable asset. And if this woman was playing him, he could play her.
He was a pro.
He had skills.
He knew what he was doing.
She took his hand, and in a second all thoughts were erased when her lips crushed his. All skills and strategy and plans were swept to sea. Out of the blue, she went for it, sealing her delicious mouth to his and kissing him like she’d been reliving last evening’s kiss, too. Like he had. That first kiss had made him want so much more.
This second kiss reminded him of why.
She wasn’t tentative; she wasn’t testing the waters. She was a determined woman—determined to consume him and devour all his will, all his reason, every last ounce of logic that was quickly slipping away in a kiss that fried his brain.
Ask him his name, he could barely remember.
Ask where he was, and he couldn’t say.
All he knew was the taste of her lips and the feel of her warm body. He looped his arms around her nearly naked frame and yanked her close, taking the reins and kissing her like a hungry man. His hands lingered on her lower back for the briefest of seconds, traveling across her skin that was warm from the sun blazing brightly overhead. He trailed his fingertips lower, dropping one hand to her ass and squeezing a round, firm cheek. He groaned. A deep, hungry sound. He wanted this woman with a fierceness he hadn’t felt in ages. He didn’t even know her name.
Right now, nothing mattered but how fantastic she felt.
She pressed her lush body to his, lining up her belly against his hard-on and rubbing lightly against him. There might very well be families around. There might be legions of people watching them as she sighed sexily in his mouth and pressed into him. He didn’t care. This was not an innocent kiss. It was a hot, dirty one. It was a prelude that demanded clothing be stripped off and bodies be tangled together. She curled her hands into his hair and practically clawed at his skull. In the ferocity of her grip, his restraint was reduced to a thread.
He broke the kiss for a split second and spoke in a ragged voice, full of lust. “I want to do bad things to you.”
Her eyes lit up. “I like bad things. I want bad things.”
She grabbed him and they kissed more. Harder. Rougher.
He pictured her in bed. Scratching his back. Digging her nails into his flesh. Holding on hard as he took her and fucked her through multiple toe-curling orgasms before he even allowed one for himself. He wanted to see her spread out, flush with desire, sated with the pleasure that he’d given her. He craved hearing her orgasmic cries and watching her come undone, over and over. He wanted to back her up against that palm tree right now, strip off those bikini bottoms, and explore her legs, taste her sweetness, feel her heat.
But he wanted to know her goddamn name, too. Not just how she felt coming undone.
Somehow, he managed to untangle himself from her. They were both panting. Her eyes were glossy with desire. He was sure his hair was a wild mess from her hands in it. He was equally sure he liked her hands in his hair.
He exhaled deeply and rubbed a hand across his jaw, trying to reset his mind. He clasped his hands together. “So now that I’ve nearly ripped off your clothes on the beach and had my tongue down your throat in a bar, perhaps you could tell me your real name.”
“You don’t think it’s Ariel?” she asked coyly, her lips curving into a naughty grin.
“No,” he said as she bent down for her dress and tugged it over her head. Turned out covering up didn’t do much for his desire to have his hands all over her body. He still wanted her just as badly. Against his better judgment. “I’m pretty sure it’s not Ariel. I’d love to know what it really is.”
Or what new fake name you’ll give me.
“Well, it does seem you’ve passed enough tests now to earn the name.”
“Ah, so you have been testing me?”
She laughed and nodded. “I’m a twenty-eight-year-old woman living in a world where anyone gets burned online. You’re a man with one name only who I met on an island. I’m not stupid. I’m also not Ariel, but my business is actually called Ariel’s Island Eco-Adventure Tours. I run a tour business in the Caribbean,” she said, and something about her job sounded vaguely familiar. It tickled his brain, nagging away at him. “I studied marine biology in college so I could lead dives and snorkel trips. I live in Miami, but I’ve been rebuilding my business here and in other places. I’m Steph Anderson and it is a pleasure to officially meet you.”
He nearly stumbled. His jaw almost dropped. His eyes practically popped out of his head. But he fought back all those natural reactions because he didn’t want to let on that he knew the name Steph, since he’d looked up the names of Eli’s family before he arrived.