He said it so innocently, as if it were no big deal whatsoever for them to be rubbing sunblock all over each other. And maybe it wasn’t to him, which meant she was just making a huge fool of herself.
With a sigh, she settled back down and closed her eyes. A few seconds later, she nearly moaned aloud when both of his palms pressed down over her skin and he began rubbing in tight, circular patterns. It had to be a crime for a man’s hands to feel this good. Everywhere he touched lit up beneath his fingers as if begging and aching for more.
She was about to fidget right out of her skin and she had to bite hard into her lips to prevent sounds of pleasure from escaping her throat. This was torture. Absolute, magnificent, the most amazing torture ever concocted in the history of mankind. Thank God he wasn’t asking her any questions because she’d do or say just about anything as long as he didn’t stop.
He didn’t appear to be in a rush, a fact she was thankful for. She closed her eyes as his hands caressed every inch of exposed skin from the sensitive skin at her nape to the soles of her feet and all parts in between.
When his fingertips massaged perilously close to the globes of her buttocks, she found herself holding her breath until spots appeared in her vision. But he continued with featherlight strokes, merely tracing the boundaries of the bikini bottom and tantalizing her mercilessly with one thought: What if that bottom weren’t there?
She was nearing unconsciousness when he finally halted, and this time her moan of displeasure couldn’t be held back. He chuckled softly above her but it penetrated the thick fog surrounding her as more of a whisper than a true laugh. Then she felt something else press against her shoulder. Something that felt like his . . . lips? Now she was just hallucinating. There was only so much orgasmic bliss a girl could take, after all.
“You just lie there, sweetheart. I’ll put my shirt on so you don’t have to worry about doing me.”
“Mmmkay,” she said dreamily.
Again his amused chuckle penetrated her semiconscious state, but she just smiled and drifted away on a cloud of euphoria. She could swear his fingers then sifted through the stray strands of her hair that had come undone from the messy bun, but she couldn’t be bothered to open her eyes to investigate. Besides, as far as fantasies went, this one was pretty damn awesome and she had no desire for it to end anytime soon.
“I wonder if you even know how very beautiful you are,” Joe whispered, his voice seemingly miles away.
Now she knew she was definitely asleep and dreaming. For once it was nice to dream about something other than fear and humiliation or to wake with her heart pounding, sweat drenching her hair.
“Never had a better dream,” she murmured through unmoving lips. “Are you going to go away when I wake up?”
She heard soft laughter and then a voice that was anything but light and teasing. It was contradictory to the entire setting of the dream. It was firm and filled with gentle yet implacable resolve and sent shivers all the way to her toes.
“I’m not going anywhere, Zoe. Not now. Not ever. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, baby. I’m not sure how much you’ll like that when you wake up and figure out this wasn’t a dream and is all too real, but I like it a hell of a lot, you being stuck with me.”
“No one ever stays,” she said sadly, not liking the turn this dream had taken. She wanted the good parts back. “No one ever loves me back. Everyone always leaves.”
There was a long silence and for a moment she relaxed, content to let the dream die after its not-so-great shift from really awesome to not so awesome. And then . . .
“Not this time, baby.” That voice again. So achingly familiar, but then it had occupied a solid place in her dreams for the last several nights. “And that’s a promise.”
Even though she knew no such promise would ever be kept, it still gave her comfort and she clung to it as she drifted further into oblivion.
• • •
JOE sat a short distance away from where Zoe slept, his gaze drifting occasionally between the sun and her back, which still glistened from the sunblock he’d now applied twice. The second time he’d gently worked the lotion into her skin, she hadn’t so much as stirred, but the tiny puckered frown she wore even while sleeping and the strain evident on her forehead and around her mouth instilled an ache in his chest that wouldn’t be assuaged.
Who was the “everyone” she’d referred to in an almost childlike voice that had broken his heart? Her pain went beyond that of one ex-lover. What about her childhood? Donovan hadn’t mentioned a family. Parents or siblings. He hadn’t said anything at all, and now Joe wondered why. Was she all alone in the world? Surely Rusty knew that much about her. Perhaps it was why Rusty had befriended her and was so loyal and protective of her. He commended his sister for that, but from now on, protecting Zoe from anything that had the power to hurt her was his job.
He checked his watch as he watched the sun sink farther down in the sky. As much as he hated even a night’s separation from her, it was getting late and she was clearly exhausted. It was time to be getting her back to his mom’s for the night. She hadn’t eaten much at lunch. She’d been quiet. Almost pensive while they shared the offering his mother had prepared for them. Every once in a while he managed to get a smile out of her when he teased or joked with her, but sadness had clung to her features for most of the afternoon after they’d finished catching the dozen fish he’d told her they needed.