She waited for the swearing.
“Damn it, Josie,” he said.
Her grin grew broader. One of these days she was going to ask him what exactly he found so appealing about her ass. But for now, she was just enjoying teasing him.
Then he ripped control right back by reaching out and grabbing hold of her backside, his fingers firmly planted across each of her cheeks.
She let out a yelp. “Houston!” She hadn’t expected that, andwhile the beach was private, there were forty condos within eyeball range.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Josie,” he said, and his hands ran up and down on her.
She didn’t know how he could do that, paralyze her with just one little touch. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to, and let him stroke over her possessively as the now-familiar ache started to build between her thighs.
Around and down his fingers went, under and through her legs until the tip of his finger was tantalizingly close to the juncture of her thighs. Her shorts flooded, her legs stiffened. Her nipples jumped out and begged for attention, and while her brain saidGood God, not here,her body saidAnywhere you like, gorgeous, just don’t stop.
She gave a whimper like a dog needing to go out, and waited to feel embarrassment, but she was clearly having a delayed reaction, since all she felt was blinding lust.
He slid back and forth, his large hand crowding between her legs, brushing up against her clit through the taut fabric of her shorts.
“Not here,” she begged in a futile attempt at modesty, aware that she wasn’t really up to resisting him if he pursued the matter. But a token effort would make her look less desperate. If she wasn’t going to fool herself into thinking she gave a damn if half the population of Florida assembled stadium-style and watched, at least she could try and fool him.
“No one can see. I’m right behind you, blocking your body. No one can see that my finger is between your legs,” he whispered in her ear as he caught the edge of her shorts with his thumb. “I could slip it into you and no one would be able to tell. It just looks like I’m hugging you.”
He was going to do it and she was going to moan and bite her lip and come right there on the beach. In full view of anyone looking. And somehow she really doubted a man leaning against awoman with his hand moving back and forth between her legs would be interpreted as an affectionate hugger by any passerby.
This would be setting a bad precedent. If she gave in and shattered all over Houston’s hand on the beach, who knew what else he’d think her capable of? He’d have her dangling from a chandelier naked if she wasn’t careful.
Forcing her eyes to stay open, she swallowed hard and tried to ignore the little teasing back-and-forth motions of his finger, the way he played with the edge of her shorts, darting under, brushing her underwear.
“I think they would be able to tell,” she panted, clamping her thighs together to keep him at bay. Which only trapped his hand, pressing him more firmly against her. Oh, shit, that felt good, and she savored it for a long slow pulsing second.
Then with the willpower she had relied on to study in med school and to work twenty-four-hour shifts, she stepped forward, out of Houston’s reach.
He didn’t say anything, but she heard the rush of his breath, felt his stillness. A breeze off the water ruffled her hair as she turned around. Houston stood straight, taut, his muscular arms at his sides. His jeans were straining to hold his impressive erection.
But he didn’t acknowledge that, didn’t make a joke, or crack a smile, or shift himself in his pants like other men she knew would do. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, spinning the ring, holding them around his index finger.
He wouldn’t beg. She had figured that out by now. He wouldn’t push her or coax or charm. He would just wait, knowing she wanted him, until she was doing the begging, compliant and wide open to him.
But he couldn’t quite achieve the remoteness she was used to seeing from him in the OR. He was just as edgy, though he knew how to control himself better than she did.
He took one step towards her. “Next time you bend over likethat to tease me, I just may be tempted to smack your ass instead of touch it.”
Josie gasped. She gaped. She covered her butt with her hands, as if he might grab her and give her ten whacks right there on the beach.
He was joking, of course. Wasn’t he?
Of course he was. And she was repelled by the thought, not turned on and curious and leaning towards him like a sun-starved houseplant to the window.
Liar.
Nor was she entertaining any thoughts of bending over just to see if he would actually follow through on his threat.
Still lying.
If she did have any thoughts in that direction, any tiny, small, ridiculous thoughts, she ignored them and patiently waited for her brain to provide her with speechmaking capabilities again.
It was a little slow coming.