Mary Beth let her hands trail through the water as she walked through it to the pool ladder, going up step by slow step. Teasing him.

Parr sat forward to take in the sight of her as she rose.

She caught a glimpse of what she looked like in the mirror wall behind him. Her wet eyelashes were dewy and dark. Her drenched hair ended in rivulets that soaked the tiny, clinging top even more, and her exposed midriff sparkled with drops of water. The skimpy, dripping shorts covered only a few inches of her bare, rounded thighs.

The look in his eyes was worshipful. He could have been adoring a goddess. She wasn’t one, but if he wanted to think so, Mary Beth was fine with that.

Her hands wrapped around the curved top of the ladder as she stepped up and out. Parr just about kicked the chair over as he rose and strode to meet her, resting his hands briefly over hers.

For a fraction of a second she remembered the rings she’d left in the kitchen . . . until his mouth came down over hers and her wet lips opened to him.

Parr brought her close to him, the warmth of his body erasing the cool sensation of her drenched clothes as he caressed her, pressing his full length against her as best he could, given his superior height.

His amorous attentions were the prelude to a kiss. His lips brushed the top of her head, her cheek, and then her lips.

She arched her back, wanting to feel all of him so intensely that it was almost painful. Parr cupped her head with one hand, not letting her escape his mouth. His tongue touched hers, sliding deeper, probing and sensual. She moaned softly, the low vibration adding to the exquisite pleasure of the kiss.

And if, she thought wildly, if he could do this to her with only a kiss, what would he be like in bed? Every forbidden thought she’d ever had spun in her mind. But this fantasy was real.

His head lowered to her neck and he found the sensitive pulse that he had never had time to kiss before. He nipped at it with practiced skill. A sensation like hot lightning shot through her body. Mary Beth cried out softly and clung to him, writhing.

Those strong hands moved down and slid up inside the back of the shorts. With the same sensual skill, intuiting the rhythm that aroused her most, he squeezed her behind while pulling her even closer, lifting her off her feet.

To be helpless in his hands for a few delicious moments was powerfully arousing. Mary Beth gave in to it, moving her hips tentatively, then wantonly, getting him rock hard inside those frayed jeans.

She wanted to rip them off. She ran a hand over one of his thighs, digging her nails in until he caught her wrist and set her down, all at once.