SHE WAS IN TROUBLE. Knee–deep, sinking–fast, scream–for–help–before–it's–to o–late trouble.?Alexia knew all the signs.?Her heart was racing, even as her feet twitched, warning to run.? Anticipation curled, tight and low in her belly. Somewhere between desire and terror, it waited. Hope and fear entwined, making it impossible to know which to root for.? Her mind screamed warning, but her body wanted him, badly. Her nipples tightened and her thighs melted in anticipation. It was all she could do not to close the space between them, lean into that rock–hard body and trace her tongue over the hint of stubble along his jaw. She'd bet he tasted yummy.

Catching herself just before she fanned her hand in front of her face to try to chill, Alexia desperately grabbed control, reeling it tight.

It was time to make an excuse and leave. She had a very narrow window—maybe five minutes, tops— before she did something really, really stupid. And she'd spent a lot of years weaning stupid behavior from her repertoire.

She was proud of that. Even as a sneaky part of her brain whispered that she'd been good for so long, she deserved a little bad. Just a little, now and then.

Mostly now.

Then Blake stepped closer. Her eyes widened. Her pulse tripped over itself before racing off so fast it made her light–headed.

"I know it's too soon," he murmured, his words as dark and deep as the night sky, "but I have to taste you."

Alexia's mental gymnastics melted away, right along with her resistance. Desire swirled down into her belly in a slow, sinuous slide.

Then his lips brushed over hers and she didn't care about stupid, resistance or the fact that they were on a public beach.

His breath was warm. His lips soft. The fingertips he traced over her shoulder a gentle whisper. It was sweetness personified. She felt like a fairytale–princess being kissed for the first time by her prince.

And he was delicious.