Ty thought about finding a way to give Imogen oral sex, but decided he’d either drown in the process or knock them both into the water. So instead, he moved his hand between her legs and stroked along the front of her bikini bottoms.

“Stop that,” she murmured.

“Why?” Ty used the pad of his thumb to circle around her clitoris.

“Because you’re turning me on.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It is when you can’t do anything about it.”

“Who says I can’t do anything about it?” Ty maneuvered his fingers inside the damp bottoms and slid along her warm flesh.

“Ahhhh,” was her response, which he took as a positive sign to continue.

Finding a slow, easy rhythm, he went in and out of her, feeling her body respond with a rush of moisture. It was a little bit of an awkward position for him, but he didn’t care when he heard her breathing quicken and felt her hips tense.

“Oh,” she said, her breath tickling his cheek. “Oh, that is rather nice.”

“Yeah?” Ty played with her clitoris before slipping back inside her. Hooking his finger, he stroked deeply along the inner wall and was rewarded by her whole body jerking slightly.

“Oh!” she said again, only this time it was shock, excitement, serious hot and juicy pleasure. “Nice doesn’t . . .” She sucked in a breath when he repeated the action. “Cover it. Oh, God, oh God . . .”

It looked like he’d found her G-spot again, a happy, hot discovery. Ty throbbed with desire as he stroked again and had the acute pleasure of feeling and seeing her come, her cries loud and frantic, her inner muscles convulsing around his finger. He held on until she had stilled, panting in his ear. Then he slowly slid out of her and trailed his hand up her side.

“You okay?”

She nodded, blinking at him. “That was . . .” Her raspy voice trailed off.

“Nice?” he suggested with a grin.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Ty moved his legs and separated from her. “Because we’re going back to the site now. We have a date with a sleeping bag.”

“Nice,” she said, sprawled across the inner tube like a lazy cat in the sun.

Ty laughed and rolled off into the water, welcoming the cold submersion.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

IMOGEN rather expected Ty to get her back to their campsite and fling her down onto the sleeping bag posthaste. Which she would not have objected to in the least.

But he was courteous enough to suggest she change out of her wet bathing suit and have some lunch. Ty also pointed out the bathroom facilities to her, such as they were.

After a precarious few minutes in the outhouse, she emerged to find Ty had spread out a lunch of sandwiches, fruit, and crackers on the picnic table.

“Wow, aren’t you domestic?” Imogen took a seat on the bench and grabbed a grape.