Carter scrolled through the site. “Holy shit.”

Chelsea sighed, then looked over at Molly. “Clearly they don’t appreciate glamping.”

“Clearly,” Molly said. “Maybe you and I will take a separate vacation sometime. The guys can go rustic camping. We’ll go glamping.”

“Yeah, I can see the two of you ‘roughing it’ in some spa-like conditions out there in the ‘wilderness,’” Bash said, accentuating roughing it and wilderness with air quotes.

“Okay, fine, so maybe we don’t see eye to eye on camping. I rode the damn ATV, didn’t I?”

He laughed, then put his arm around her. “Yes, you did. And without heels on, too.”

She shrugged off his arm. “You’re being a dick, Bash.”

“No, I’m not. I appreciate you doing those things you’re not comfortable doing. Seriously.”

She was being cranky and she knew it. But he was being unreasonable about the whole camping thing. This was why she had her list. She and Bash were incompatible in so many ways.

Or, maybe she just needed perspective. And a nap.

After they finished eating they went down to the water and rented a couple of cabanas, and she stretched out in the shade.

“Do you want to get in the water?” Bash asked.

“Not right now. My head’s still pounding. I think I’ll close my eyes for a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

He left her alone after that and disappeared. She took a couple aspirin and guzzled a lot of water, then settled in under the shady cabana and promptly fell asleep. When she woke up a while later, she was sweaty and disoriented. Neither Bash nor Carter and Molly were anywhere around, so she walked down to the water and cooled herself off. It refreshed her and cleared her head. She stood in the water for a bit, searching up and down the sandy beach for Bash or her friends, but didn’t see them, so she headed back to the cabana, grabbed her things and went back to the room. She sent Bash a text message letting him know where she was.

She took a shower, combed out her hair, and slipped on a sundress. She felt a lot better, too. By then she heard the door open. Bash came into the room.

“Did you get my message?” she asked.

“Yes. Thanks. You were really out cold after we swam, and I didn’t want to wake you. Molly wanted some ice cream, so we took a walk down the beach.”

She smiled as she ran the towel through her hair. “Sorry I slept through the ice cream.”

“It was pretty good. I’m going to grab a shower.”

She dried her hair while he showered, then left the bathroom, grabbing them some iced tea. She brought them back to the bedroom with her, closing the door behind her.

He came out of the bathroom and over to her, putting his arms around her.

“How’s your headache?”

She smiled. “Better.”

“I’m glad. Though I was wondering if you wanted me to rub your head. Or … any other parts of you that might need rubbing.”

“Oh. In that case, every part of my body hurts.”

He laughed. “You know I’m always happy to put my hands on you. Wherever you want me to.”

“I know. That’s one of the things I like best about you.”

“My hands?”

“Definitely. Along with other parts of you.”

He bent his head to brush his lips over hers. She drew in the fresh scent of him, the taste of him, the way he could melt her with just a simple kiss. She leaned against him and went with the kiss, letting herself slide easily into the passion he always brought out of her.

He moved her to the bed, raising the back of her dress with his hand, smoothing his hands over her butt, driving up her desire to a frenzy by slipping his fingers inside her panties.

He laid her on the bed and followed her there, covering her body with his, deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping over hers and drawing her deeper into that hazy, passionate web where she so often lost herself whenever she was with him.

He pulled up, sliding his hand around the back of her neck to rub the muscles there. There was something about Bash’s touch that was both soothing and unnerving, in the best possible way. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and drew his hand down, past her neck and over her breasts.

“So these need rubbing?” he asked.

“Most definitely.”

She drew the straps down on her dress, baring her breasts for him. He rubbed, teased, and sweetly tortured her nipples until she arched her back, begging for his lips, mouth, and tongue to do the same. When he had her a moaning wreck, he pulled the dress over her hips, taking her panties as well.

He scooted up beside her, kissed her, and at the same time cupped her sex. She moaned against his lips, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging, letting him know how very much she enjoyed his touch.

He made her breath catch as he expertly stroked her right to climax. She fell into that blissful, splintering state with abandon, letting go and holding tight to him as she trembled with each delicious sensation.

He left her only long enough to grab a condom, shuck his clothes, and climb back on the bed. He grabbed her leg and lifted it over his hip, then slid into her, his gaze firmly planted on hers as he moved within her.

Everything inside of her quivered. When he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, she sucked it inside her mouth.

“Christ,” he said, thrusting into her. “Do you know what you do to me, Chelsea?”

She knew what he did to her, what he’d been doing to her for months. And the way he looked at her, like he was baring his soul to her while they were connected in the most intimate of ways, shattered her.