Her foot crunched upon something half-buried in the sand. She bent down, dug until she found it, and lifted it up, using the moonlight to see by. It was a shell. Small convoluted swirls formed the white conical shape into something special and secret.

“Look!” she cried. “My first seashell!”

Cole caught her hand and carried it to his lips. “You’ve had a lot of firsts today, haven’t you, lady?”

There was something about the way he was touching her, something in his voice that gave her hope.

“It was my first time to see the ocean.” Her voice was breathless and soft. “It was my first time to eat clams.” His hands cupped her face and tilted it. “I found my first—”

His mouth took the rest of her words as his hands stole her heart.

It was better than she’d imagined. His lips were cool and firm, softening and warming as she opened to him. His hands made tentative forays across her shoulders, then moved back up her neck and threaded the tangled curls around her face.

He shuddered and groaned as her arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close…too close…not close enough.

Moonlight sliced a thin, silver path across the water, blinding in its intensity, but neither saw it. They were too lost in the feel of being in each other’s arms.

And then suddenly Cole couldn’t get close enough. He took them to their knees. His hands moved beneath her shirt and around behind her back.

The catch on her red bikini top came undone, and she spilled into his palms with a thrust, yearning to alleviate the pulsing pressure he’d created.

The soft tips went flat against his hands and then, as if they had a life of their own, hardened and pushed against him, reminding him that he’d started something that was aching to be finished.

With no thought of their proximity to the other guests, he laid her beneath him, stretched out above her, and then branded himself with her heat. She was soft. All movement and enticing depths that he wanted to explore. She would let him. Of that, he was certain. Could he let himself? Of that, he was unsure.

The sand made a place for her, generously shifting to allow her room—room for her body and the man above her. Below the surface, it was still warm from the heat of the day. Debbie sighed and lifted her arms, pulling Cole down until there was no room for breath between them. She heard his soft groan and felt his need as his mouth plundered past the neckline of the sweat shirt. His hands slid up, and then his hands slid down. And Debbie lifted herself to meet them.