"You don't think I can handle it?" I asked while frowning up at him.

The words left him in a deep hoarse grumble of a noise "Maybe I am the one that cannot handle it."

I tilted my head upwards and queried "What do you mean?"

My question forced him to meet my curious eyes.

He leant down so that his warm breath tickled my earlobe.

"I don't think I can handle seeing you in a bikini again. I am struggling to hold myself back now with those shorts of yours." His voice was a soft yet husky sounding growl "I want to steal you for myself and place you on the counter and finish what I started last time."

My ear was already heated at where his mouth lingered near it. That heat reached over my face and down my neck towards the rest of my body

I released a shaky breath as I tried to act like my heart was not about to explode.

I wondered what his aim was. I wondered if he wanted to leave me flustered because he genuinely wanted to or because he was playing some sort of game with me.

Intentions were not something that I could understand. Especially when they were someone else's.

I made a rule to myself that I was not allowed in any circumstance to kiss my acqenemy. No matter how badly I wanted to.

My face felt on fire as I kept my gaze on the floor. My eyes slowly but surely traversed the well-built body until I reached his face.

"Clothes." I blurted out.

The corner of his mouth rose infinitesimally.

"If we are going to the beach then I am going to need to get changed." I stated the obvious as I forced myself to pull away from him "And you will need to put some clothes on."

My hips had a mind of their own and I ended up walking away from him and down the hall with a little more movement in them. The dark eyes followed me down the hall before I shut my bedroom door behind me.

It was dangerous territory we were walking together.

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Smells like Teen Spirit by Nirvana blared through the speakers of his car. With the windows rolled down, people on the sidewalk were shooting all sorts of different types of dirty looks.

When we first got in the car, it was silent. It was like something hung in the air between us. I did not address it and neither did he.

He stole glances my way a few times every minute as we drove closer to the beachfront.

I kept my attention on the outside of the car and tried not to feel the heat rise on my face from his penetrating gaze.

The tension broke when Stone turned on the radio and pressed the CD button, so Kurt Cobain's voice and guitar filled the confined space.