Eyes still closed, she sighed. “I wish…” so much, she wished, but mostly that he could be deep inside, filling her.

“What do you wish, Harley?” When she remained quiet, he stroked his thumbs over her jaw. “Anything,” he said softly.

She wondered at all the possibilities of that intriguingly wicked promise.

Still holding her face, his lips curved. “You have to be able to say it out loud. You know that, right?”

Yeah. She knew that. But she really wasn’t good with voicing her needs, especially those kinds of needs.

A rough laugh escaped him, and he nipped her jaw. “Harley, after all we’ve done, what could possibly embarrass you?”

“Don’t you ever lose it?” she asked, frustrated.

“I’m close now,” he murmured, voice low, eyes hot, his body hard beneath hers. “Say it, Harley.”

“You know what I want.” She nibbled on her lower lip, watching him watch her from those heated eyes. “I want you to do what we haven’t managed yet. At least not as legal adults.”

He trailed a finger down her throat to the zipper on her hoodie, which he slowly pulled down. “That actually covers quite a bit of ground.”

It did?

“Tell me,” he coaxed. He tugged the hoodie off her arms and it fell to the ground behind her, leaving her in just her halter bathing suit top. He slipped a finger under the thin strap over her collarbone. The pad of his finger slid a little lower, heading south.

Her ni**les, already hard, pebbled into two tight beads. “I want…”

A corner of his mouth quirked up as his finger slid even farther. “If you can’t say it, how can we do it?” he asked on an amused breath.

“I’m not sure what to call it.” She felt the top of her bathing suit sag a little, no longer supporting her, and she realized he’d untied it. Her breath backed up in her throat as it began to slip away from her. “Saying ‘making love’ seems so sappy, given the circumstances. And the other seems a little…coarse.”

“Sex?” He was watching his finger as he slowly tugged on the suit, revealing just the very top of her br**sts. “The word sex is too coarse?”

“No.” She squirmed, and the bathing suit caught on her ni**les. “That wasn’t the word I was thinking of.”

He lifted his gaze off her br**sts and met her gaze, his so hot it stole her breath. “You want me to-”

“Be inside me,” she whispered so softly she might have only mouthed the words. Fuck me…

Her top pooled in her lap, baring her to the waist. TJ adjusted her so that she was straddling his lap, his big, callused hands sliding down her thighs, caressing, then back up again, unbuttoning her shorts, pulling down the zipper, the rasp of the metal nearly as loud as their labored breathing. She wriggled her hips, giving him room to work. Under the shorts were her bikini bottoms, which his fingers had no problem slipping beneath.

When he touched her, the air left her lungs in a whoosh. She spread her thighs farther so that she could feel his hard sex cradled beneath her, and pressed her face into his throat. She could smell the soap he’d just used, and the man himself, and when his fingers parted her, she weaved her hands into his hair for an anchor and opened her mouth on his throat.

“God, Harley. You’re wet.”

At his touch, his words, she tightened her grip on his hair, biting the tendon where his neck met his shoulder without even realizing it until she heard his hiss of breath and felt him rock his hips hard into hers.

As his fingers teased her, she moaned, her mouth still on him, hips helplessly moving. She was so ready that she began whispering her plea. “Please. Please, now, TJ…”

Abruptly he stood her up, ripped off her shorts and bathing suit bottoms. Even before they hit the ground, his fingers slid deep inside her, his other hand cupping a breast, his thumb rubbing over her nipple in a rhythm that matched.

She lost her mind. Completely lost it. As she panted and begged softly, he met her gaze. “I know you want a quick f**k, just like we had back all those years ago, but not again. Not with what’s between us now. This is more than that, Harley.”

She didn’t care what he called it, as long as he pulled her out of that frenzied state and filled her. Now. “TJ.”

“Right here,” he promised. “Harley. Look at me.”

It took her a minute to calm down enough to open her eyes and meet his gaze.

“More,” he said with that quiet intensity, and then he tugged her onto his lap, his lips taking hers hard, his tongue gliding in and out of her mouth in the same rhythm his fingers slid in and out of her body. When his thumb brushed over her very center, she threw back her head and gripped his shoulders, riding his hand, unable to hold back. She cried out his name as she burst, and he stayed with her until the last of the shudders shook her.

It wasn’t enough. She reached between them to unbutton his jeans, but he stopped her. “Harley.” He closed his eyes, his mouth grim. “I don’t have a condom.”

She pulled one out of the pocket of her shorts and held it up sheepishly. “I was a Girl Scout.” she said to his soft, grateful laugh. “But for future reference, I’m squeaky clean and on the pill…”

“Me too. The squeaky clean part,” he murmured as she slid her hands inside his jeans, caressing his hard length.

Still not enough. “Help me,” she whispered, and again he lifted her, this time so she could free him and put the condom to good use. Soon as she did, she immediately sank down on him, inch by thick, delicious inch.