Siena burst out laughing. “He makes me that way.”

“I can see why,” Emma agreed. “He smolders with sex.”

“You’re not making it better,” Siena pointed out, shifting in the inner tube so she could put her sizzling, burning, needy body deeper in the cold water, hoping to put out the fire. “I wake up in the morning to that man.”

He was careful with her most of the time. Gentle. Almost reverent. Not always, and when he forgot to be, she loved it the most. The look on his face, the starkly sensual hunger in his eyes, made her think he’d gone beyond gentle right to full-out hot in the blink of an eye. Maybe it was the fact that he’d talked her into wearing the two-piece suit, which he bought for her to “sun” in.

She knew his real reason was he wanted her to get over being self-conscious of the four long rake marks down her back and the really, really ugly one on her leg. She’d managed to stop hiding the smaller, much more refined scar on her face. It was still red, but the line wasn’t thick and jagged like those on her back and leg.

She was very curvy, and the halter top he chose revealed more cleavage than she’d ever shown before. It was black, stretchy material. A very thin ruffle of the same stretchy material framed her breasts in a wide vee and tied in a knot beneath them. The same ruffle stretched across her hips, very low, the material encasing her bottom. She’d noticed along with a little pooch that was growing fast into a bigger pooch, her already generous breasts were growing as well.

She’d put the bikini on at his insistence and would have taken it off right away, but Elijah had wrapped his arms around her and whispered how proud he was of her. Then he’d kissed her neck and she forgot all about being self-conscious. She still had a strawberry there, reminding her of how he, while biting her neck, slid the bottoms right off of her, bent her over the bed and pounded into her, holding her hips back so her leg wouldn’t accidentally brush against the mattress.

She had her eyes glued to the door so she saw him the moment he returned, the three bottles of water dangling casually from his fingertips. He looked yummy. Good enough to eat. She especially liked that bulge in the front of his jeans showing he thought she looked as if she was good enough to eat.

She allowed the other two inner tubes to slide away from hers as she caught the edge of the pool and held on against the pull of the current. He leaned down to her, handing her one of the bottles.

“Baby, you’re going to have to stop looking at me like that,” he whispered. “You’re killing me.”