Tides of Love

Chapter 2 - Reminder: Don't Lose Your Cool

Then

I have a list of rules when it comes to men.

1. Don't give them control

2. Don't sleep with them on the first date

3. Don't fall for them.

As I drag Win from the noisy bar and upstairs to my hotel room, I realise I'm about to break all three rules in one night. Although I'm not sure if this counts as a date, so maybe that's a loophole?

My entire body thrums happily at Win's nearness as I pull him down the corridor and into my room. Even the feeling of my fingers laced through his is intoxicating, a humming point of connection where our skin meets. God, I can't wait to get his hands on the rest of my skin...

There's a mirror inside the door of my hotel room, and I almost don't recognise my own reflection. Sure, I'm still petite with very long blonde hair. I'm still tan, my limbs are still toned, all of that hasn't changed.

But my eyes are a different story; normally, they are clear and green, intelligent with a hint of contempt and derision (according to my sisters). Right now, they've darkened to a deep ivy, my pupils dilated, my gaze unfocused and filled with open lust.

Win enters behind me, smiling and casual, seemingly unaffected. "Hey, nice room! You know, when I did my first year on the circuit-"

Telling him to shut up would be rude, even for me, so instead, I launch myself at him. My mouth finds his, and instantly, the world is perfect. He tastes right, his warm, smooth lips immediately responding to mine. Win isn't tall, but he's the perfect height for me, allowing me to stretch up on my tiptoes as he tilts down towards me.

I moan against his mouth – something I've never done before. No matter what I'm doing, I never allow the other person the satisfaction of knowing they've impacted me. But with Win, I don't care – I don't care about any of that. I have abandoned all sense of decorum or control; I'd literally beg if it meant I could keep this amazing kiss going forever.

Win responds; I can feel how his breath hitches, the low growl of pleasure in his throat as our lips press together. Suddenly, I need more from him. I want to crawl inside this kiss, live in this moment, but I have to have more. My hands slide up his waist until I find the hem of his tee; as my fingertips connect with his skin, this massive man shudders, his whole body reacting to my touch.

I trail my fingers back and forth along the smooth skin of his belly; his toned abs create a bumpy path, and I pause at the trail of hair from his navel to his waistband. Win's knees buckle, and I smile against his mouth to know that I'm affecting him this way.

His hands are still by his side. I reach for them and place them on my chest; I need to feel his broad fingers on my nipples, for him to cup my breasts and squeeze with just the right amount of pressure.

Instead, Win breaks off our kiss and slides away from me. In a shaky voice, he says, "Whoa, slow down there, Little Em – we just met! At least buy a man a drink first!"

I'm panting and dishevelled, but my body reacts fiercely to him pulling away, like a car alarm sounding over and over. I step closer to him, saying, "For you, I'd crack into the mini-bar."

He takes another step backwards. "I want you to know, this isn't how I normally welcome newbies to the tour."

"I don't have a problem with it." I raise an eyebrow. I don't love where this is going. Too much talking, not enough action.