He's the One by Linda Lael Miller Page A

outlining her in slow
     precision.
    “Ohmigod.”
    “Here, Ella? Now?”
    “Here,” she panted. “ Now .”
    He dragged her out of the ocean. She thought maybe he intended to take her inside
     the cottage, but apparently it was too far away because the moment their calves were
     free of the water, he sank to his knees and brought her down with him.
    Their hands fumbled for purchase, hers skimming over his glorious body, touching his
     shoulders, his flat belly, his thighs . . . between them.
    His were no less desperate, his fingers spread wide as if to touch all that he could
     with every sweep of his hands.
    She tugged down his wet, clinging shorts.
    He bit her shoulder.
    She licked his Adam’s apple.
    He growled and tumbled her all the way down to the sand, spreading her legs and making
     himself at home between them, cupping her bottom and pulling her forward in a quick,
     hard movement that settled her more completely against his straining erection before
     he covered her body with his and kissed her, hard and wet and deep. She tried to get
     her hands between them, to draw him inside her, but he manacled her hands in one of
     his and drew them up over her head. Towering over her, he stared down at her. “You’re
     not going to rush me. Not after six months of this, getting hard at the mere thought
     of you beneath me like this.”
    Then he sank his fingers into her hair, drawing her head back, forcing her to arch
     beneath him so that he could drag his mouth down her throat toward the curve of a
     breast. His handling of her was presumptuous and aggressive and she didn’t care. She
     knew what he could offer her, knew how far he could take her, which was further than
     anyone had ever taken her before. And she wanted to go there, now .
    Water and sand swirled around them in the dark, dark night as he tugged her bikini
     top off and tossed it aside before dipping his head and capturing her nipple in his
     mouth, lashing the tender tip with his tongue.
    Stars burst in her vision, but she had no idea if they were the real ones hanging
     in the sky above them or only manufactured in her head from what he was doing to her
     as she cupped his head in her hands and held him to her.
    Water lapped at their feet with each wave. She loved the weight of him, thrilled to
     the way he thrust a thigh between hers, spreading her, holding her open as he lifted
     his head and blew hot breath over her wet nipple. “I missed the taste of you here,”
     he said.
    “Keep tasting, then.”
    Curling the fingers of one hand around the bikini tie on her hip, he tugged until
     the wet, stretchy material popped free. Then he was scraping the bikini bottoms off
     her. “I missed the taste of you everywhere.” His knuckles brushed her trimmed pubic
     hair, the very tips of his fingers just barely skimming over her folds as he kissed
     his way past her belly button. “But I especially missed the taste of you right”—he
     nipped at her inner thigh, brushed his nose over the center of her and then kissed
     her—“ here .”
    Ella gasped and tightened her grip on his hair.
    “Mmm.” He kissed her again, using his tongue this time to circle her clit, and her
     entire body bowed, tightened. She was going to come, thank God, but then he pulled
     back a fraction of an inch, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders. “ James .”
    “Still here. God, El.” He nipped at her other inner thigh again, then a little higher,
     moving tantalizingly close to where she throbbed for him, for release—
    Yes .
    But the man only danced his tongue over her, moving half an inch to the right. Frustrated
     beyond speech, she gripped his hair tight and tried to direct his head.
    “Easy,” he murmured as a wave teased just past their knees.
    Easy? She’d give him easy! Again she gripped his hair and shifted his head and felt
     a puff of air in the right spot.
    He was chuckling. Bastard. Rat bastard . “Goddammit, James, do me!”
    “I intend to. My