Tahoe is sitting alone. How long had he been watching me?

His chest is bare. But he’s wearing some sort of drawstring pajama pants that are light in color and possibly linen. He looks like a god in the moonlight. And the sudden thought of a woman being inside that villa with him causes a dull thud of jealousy right in my center.

I’m suddenly too aware of how flimsy my camisole is, and how very much my nipples are poking into the material as the wind presses it against my skin.

I know Tahoe notices.

He’s too observant a man not to notice, too perceptive.

He must be wondering why I’m not in my room, in my boyfriend’s arms.

I wonder why too.

Behind me, my boyfriend is warm, asleep in bed, but my mind is stuck on Tahoe and how he makes me feel. Why does it feel like my life is moving, but I’m stuck at a standstill, just waiting for glimpses of him?

Him and that slowly curving smile appearing now.

Soon I find myself smiling back at him.

I’m really happy to see him.

I CANNOT TAKE MY EYES OFF HIM

I wake up late and alone the next morning, a little disoriented. When the fog clears, I remember that I’m at the beach, in the loveliest villa I could imagine, with my boyfriend and friends, and a smile lights my face.

I get up, brush my teeth, fix my face, and notice on the pillow next to mine a note from Trent. It says he’s having breakfast at the main house with everyone and that he’ll meet me at the beach.

I change into my one-piece black swimsuit, wrap a pareo around my waist, and slip into my sandals. I’m heading down the beach path toward the main house when I hear the sound of running water coming from Tahoe’s villa.

I stop to peer through the palm trees. My jaw drops as I stare at the most primal thing I’ve ever seen. Tahoe stands alone in the outdoor shower, muscles glistening with water and sunlight. His head cast up to the shower spray.

He’s pumping his hips, his thick erection in his fist.

He is such a beautiful man I could probably come by just staring at his body. Just by staring at him like this. Oh god. He’s ripped, and cut. As for his beautifully proportionate cock…

He’s uncut. And he’s fully extended. Raw, glorious. My throat feels thick, I have trouble swallowing.

Tahoe Roth.

My guy friend. And THE SEXIEST THING ON THE PLANET.

My body reacts so violently I feel pain at the tips of my nipples, between my legs, in my chest, all across my skin.

My skin that suddenly wants those big hands to be stroking…me.

I think I make a sound, and he turns his head to look at me. For an awkward second we both stare. He leans his free arm on a nearby tree branch that I suppose is meant to shelter him from view.

Which it doesn’t. Not one bit.

And I cannot take my eyes off him.

His eyes are so wild, they look almost unholy. “Join me.”

“You…” I shake my head.

He releases his cock and steps forward. Naked and unashamed. I’m wet between my legs, and my stomach is full of stupid butterflies.

I take a step back. “There’s no way I’m joining you.”

He pauses, and I take in every line of muscle on his chest and his dark nipples. Rivulets of water trail down to the squares of his abs and down the V of muscle on his hips and he’s…so very huge and so very hard!

He’s looking at me so casually, as if he takes showers with his female friends all the time.

I turn around and flee.

The main house is empty, but a huge buffet remains set up for latecomers. I grab a plate with shaky hands, struggling to rid my mind of Tahoe’s body.

When Tahoe appears, I almost drop the plate, flustered as I set it down.

His hair is wet from his shower and a pair of navy swim trunks hang low on his hips, a V of muscle visible just above the drawstring. He heads straight toward me, tugs me behind a thick stone column and smiles. “Hey.”

I’m struggling not to sound breathless. “I didn’t see that.”

“Yeah, you did. You couldn’t get enough.”

“Not true.” I glance downward at my sandals.

He chuckles.

“Hey,” he tips my chin, “nothing wrong with that.”

“I know.”

“So…”

“So I can’t unsee it, that’s what.”

“I don’t want you to unsee it.”

“Tahoe,” I grit, “someone is going to hear you and I don’t want to deal with questions I don’t have the answers to.”

“I like you flustered.”

“You can’t get me flustered. I won’t let you.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“You aren’t flustered right now?” he dares, taunting me.

“No. I’m embarrassed because I shouldn’t have seen that.”

“And yet you couldn’t stop looking. I really like how naughty you are.”

“I…” I push him.

He laughs.

I kick his ankles, trying to hide how flustered I am with mock anger.

He kicks me back playfully, dropping onto a nearby lounge seat, stretching back and crossing his arms.

Giving up the act and knowing he’s too smart not to know that he seriously affected me, I sit down next to him and sigh.

He tugs on my ponytail. “I like this. You look cute,” he says.

I pry my ponytail free. “Trent likes my hair down and flat-ironed,” I say.

I think I sound bitter because Tahoe frowns, his eyes becoming stormy in an instant.

“Do you want breakfast?” I ask, distracting him.

He eyes the buffet table with a mischievous glimmer in his eye. “Let’s do it.”