The first boom of the fireworks exploded outside, lighting her tiny kitchen in red hues.
He dropped his forehead to hers. “I can’t get you out of my head.”
Because she was naive and tempted to believe him, and because the end result wouldn’t change no matter what he was starting to feel, she slid her hands down his arms and linked their fingers. “Come on. The fireworks are starting.”
His mouth thinned with an exhale. “Fireworks.”
“Yes, fireworks,” she said. A good distraction.
She tugged him by the arm outside, then dropped his hand. The humidity slammed into her at once, dulled only by a soft breeze off the water. The air was scented heavily with brine and salt, a smell she’d grown quite fond of these past weeks.
Leaning against the deck railing, she watched the sky explode with color. The ocean made the sound bounce and echo, but the water reflected the display in panoramic glory. Faith couldn’t tell exactly where they were setting the fireworks off, but judging by the smoke, she figured it was one of the tiny inlet islands to the south.
Alec came up behind her, sliding his arms under hers and trapping her to the railing. The solid feel of him behind her brought sparks of her own and a strange sense of ease. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and held her close.
At the last boom of the finale, he kissed her hair. “We could go make our own fireworks.” He winced and turned her around. “That was awful. You’d think a writer could come up with something better.”
She smiled through a sigh. “I won’t think less of you.”
He widened his stance to bring her closer. “You don’t think less of anyone.” His brows furrowed as he studied her in the dark, with only the moon for light. “I haven’t written one word all week.”
Writer’s block again. Or still. That’s why he was here. She tried to erase the disappointment from her tone. “Do you want to tell me about it? Maybe I can help. Or do you not like to discuss a work in progress?”
His chest expanded with a breath as he glanced over her shoulder. “I never talk about my books until they’re turned in to my editor, not even with my agent. I’m paranoid about leaks. Other than an approved story idea, my publisher doesn’t know what I’m working on.” Returning his gaze to hers, he brushed the top of her nose with the pad of his thumb. “Your freckles are adorable. My main character has them, too.”
So did he or did he not want to discuss the manuscript? “What’s the character’s name?”
“Amy.”
“A female lead?” All his books had male main characters.
He swallowed. Nodded. “Yes. She has wavy brown hair, about this long.” He touched the ends of her hair, his gaze watching the movement. “Her eyes are amber, but turn honey when confronted. She’s just shy of frail in frame, with a voice that sounds like a mermaid call and skin that smells like cupcakes.”
Her hands settled on his forearms and may have gripped a little too tight. “Mermaids and cupcakes?”
Offering a barely perceptible nod, he smiled. “Don’t forget the amber eyes. They’re one of my favorite parts.” He shrugged, suddenly looking shy. “What can I say? You inspire me.”
She fisted her pendant and slid it back and forth on the chain. “I’m really confused. What are you doing here, Alec?” Besides breaking her heart and making her desire things she couldn’t have. Why did the one person who had noticed her in twenty-seven years have to be emotionally and physically unavailable?
The smile slipped. “I told you, I missed you.” His gaze ran over her face and hair. “I know I shouldn’t. I should just end it like we tried to do in New York, but I can’t.”
Her heart pounded so loud she was shocked the partygoers on the beach didn’t hear. Things were changing between them faster than the roll of the tide, but with the same force. All the complications and scenarios played out in her head until she could only draw one conclusion.
Why waste time and energy denying the pull? If Hope’s death and Faith’s recent move away from all she knew had taught her nothing else, it was that you only get one chance to live before it flutters away.
She cupped his cheek and smiled. “I offered you the summer. I promise when it’s over and it’s time for you to leave, I won’t make it difficult for you. But you’re the one who called things off, so you’ll have to decide.” She could see the moment her words sank in.
He leaned in as if to kiss her, but hovered over her lips instead, until they shared the same breath. “Faith?”
“Yes?”
“Hold on.”
In a blur of motion, he picked her up, strode through the patio door, and kicked it shut with his foot. Without breaking stride, he wove through the kitchen and down the short hall to her room. He kicked this door shut, too, and set her on her feet.
Then his mouth crashed over hers and her back was pinned to the door. His hands spread over her ribs and around to her back. The hard, lean length of him pressed against her, so she could feel every delicious ridge beneath her palms.
“Condom?” he breathed.
“In the nightstand.” Where they’d stayed since New York.
The arms around her back shifted as he lifted her and walked to the other side of the room, her toes dragging on the floor. He broke contact for a millisecond to search through her drawer and come up with a foil packet, and then his mouth was crushing hers again. Bruising. Desperate.
Her shirt was gone. The bra, capris, and panties next.
He stared at her, hands flat against the wall on either side of her shoulders. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he shook his head and reached behind his neck to tug off his tee. The shorts followed. He kept his gaze trained on hers when he rolled a condom down his generous length.
“I’ll be thorough next time.”
“Okay,” she breathed. Thorough didn’t really matter to her right now. Him, inside of her, did.
She reached for his hips and brought him to her. Smooth, soft skin over hard muscle. The heat of his body melted her, his kiss drugging. He checked her readiness with one stroke of his finger, and moaned when he found her wet. Aching for more, she ran her hands up his abs, over his nipples, and drew a shudder out of him. Learning what he liked as she went along, she slid her arms around his waist, then lower, to cup his backside.
He inhaled sharply. Dropped his forehead to her shoulder and nipped. Feeling a little more brazen, she worked her hand between their bodies and palmed his erection. He let out a half cry, half moan, and his mouth opened wide against her sensitive skin. He licked, sucked, and elicited a tremor out of her. She closed her fingers around his shaft and thumbed the tip, urgent for him to claim her body again.
It was like a piano wire snapping. With his knees, he spread her thighs. His hands gripped her hips and lifted. His chest held her in place against the wall as his fingers threaded through hers and trapped her hands above her head. Instinct kicked in, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was much taller than she was, so her body was stretched taut, breasts jutting out and chest heaving in excitement.
He kept her hands pinned with one of his and aligned himself with the other. Just before he entered her, he paused and stared into her eyes. Something connected, fused, between them, something more powerful than their physical bodies. Then he slid home.
It was like coming undone. Every fiber unraveled until her brain shut down and there was only the fullness of him inside of her, the slick friction of their skin and the sound of their mingled breathing. His hands found hers once more, lacing their fingers together above her head and straining the beautiful muscles of his biceps.
“That noise, Faith. That one right there. It drives me out of my damn mind.” He kissed her hard, reared back, and drove deep inside. “Yes. Do it again. Again and again.”