I pulled back as a pang assaulted my heart.

When my hand left his chest, Mason turned sideways, his arm reaching for me. “Come back,” he whispered, his eyes still closed.

A smile crept on my lips and I held his hand. His fingers closed around mine and he pulled me to him, under him. He rested his face in the crook of my neck, his arms tight, yet careful not to squash me under his weight.

As I ran my nails on the tribal tattoo that extended over his left shoulder blade, I peeked at the clock on the nightstand.

“It’s almost noon. I’m hungry.”

His head shook against my neck. “Not yet. Let’s stay like this all day.”

I turned my face to his and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. “I don’t know about you, but I also gotta pee.”

His tongue grazed my skin, spreading warm jolts down my neck. “Does that take your mind off it?”

I laughed. “You’re impossible.”

With a huge grin, he pulled back to look at me. “Thank you.” Then his forehead molded into a deep frown. “We’re still playing the don’t-tell-anything-about-ourselves game?”

A tight knot formed in my chest. “Sure we are.” If it were up to me, we would part ways and still not know anything relevant about each other.

“And you won’t even tell me why?”

I pulled my gaze away from him. “No.”

“Not even your last name.”

“Especially not my last name.”

“Who are you?” There was a teasing tone to his voice, but I still didn’t like the question. “Daughter of a famous actor? Or of a famous baseball player?” His eyes lit. “I know. You’re famous.”

I laughed. “Stop. You won’t find out anything.”

“But I did.” Mason rested his head on my neck again. “I know your favorite color is purple. I know you love sushi. You like to dance. You hate beer but could drink tons of martinis. You love the beach. Since you’re always doodling, I’m guessing you love to draw. I also know your friends admire you, probably because you’re way more beautiful and hot than them. And, judging by your clothes, the car you rented, and your fancy hotel room, you have tons of money.” I stiffened. “What?” He raised his head and spied into my eyes. “What did I say?”

I slipped from under his embrace and sat at the edge of the bed. “I don’t like subjects that involve money.”

“Why?”

I shrugged, stood, and searched the floor for my clothes. “People tend to make a big deal about money.”

“Money is a big deal. You shouldn’t be ashamed of having it.”

“I’m not.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

I turned to him, my skirt in my hand. “I don’t like what comes with money.”

“You don’t like comfort?”

I shook my head. He didn’t get it and I wouldn’t waste our little time together explaining. “That’s why I don’t like talking about it. Look at us. Our last day together and we are arguing for the first time in six full days.”

With a sympathetic smile, Mason stood before me. “I didn’t mean to cause a quarrel. I’m just amused. You’re the first rich person I’ve met who doesn’t like to talk or brag about money.”

“Yeah.” I yanked my skirt on with too much force. “Ninety percent of my friends are my friends because of my money.”

He stepped closer, his eyes softening. “Well, in my defense, I was interested in you before finding out you’re rich.”

“We also aren’t friends.” I air quoted the word friends and my lips curled in a small smile.

His hands inched toward my waist. “Can we start over?”

Heaviness settled in my chest. “We don’t have time to start over.”

“Then let me make this day count.” His fingers brushed the skin under the hem of my skirt.

My resolve undoing, I nodded. “I like that idea.”

His lips met mine, leaving me breathless, and he pulled my skirt back down.

Chapter Two

Mason


I held Charlotte’s hand as we walked in the warm, white sand, looking for a spot to settle down. It was mid-afternoon, when most spring breakers had just woken up after a night of partying.

I glanced at her and smiled. Her gold bikini left almost nothing to the imagination, and the tiny skirt could have doubled as a washcloth. Too much skin and temptation exposed. I wanted to cover her body with a towel so no other guy could see how hot she was.

She smiled back, squeezing my hand. A warm breeze kicked in and brushed her long dark hair aside. Christ, she was beautiful. Too beautiful. Large green eyes, a small nose, full reddish lips, fair, smooth skin, and the perfect, tanned body. I had never hooked up with a girl so beautiful, so perfect.

I’d let her seduce me that first night because I was mad and distraught, but she easily enraptured me. For six days, I’d barely thought about the events of the previous weeks. I had healed a little with her.

However, she was leaving the next day, and I didn’t even know her last name.

We found a spot among the crowd large enough to spread a towel and open two beach chairs. I let go of Charlotte’s hand and dropped the cooler on the sand.

Charlotte slid out of her skirt and I noticed several guys—and girls—admiring her and her movements, while she was seemingly oblivious to it. Jealousy clawed at my chest.

Come on, man. This was just a hookup.

However, the past six days felt more and more like six months. If she lived in town and we saw each other often, I would have had to cut things at once before I actually fell for her. Which seemed easy to do.

Charlotte lay on the towel, and I glared at the men still staring at her before sitting down beside her.

“Is the town always like this?”

I frowned. “Like what?”

“Packed.” She gestured toward the beach. She tapped her foot to the rhythm blasting out of a nearby radio.

It was insanely full, but most people were college students like us.

Someone on my side tossed a beer to a friend, which made me thirsty. I reached for one of my own inside the cooler. “Nope. It’s usually too quiet here. The busiest times are spring break and summer.”

Sand kicked up nearby as someone raced after a soccer ball. I straightened my back, opening my mouth to complain, but the dude on my right was faster.

“What the hell?” he yelled.

I grabbed the rolling ball as a boy no older than ten ran our way, in search of his toy.

“Can I have my ball back, please?” the boy said, pointing to my arms.

“Sure,” I said, handing him the toy.

“Wait, what?” the guy on the side said, reaching for the ball. From his crossed eyes and jerky movements, he was probably tipsy. “No. This kid will just throw it again. Don’t give it to him.”

I pulled the boy to the side, out of reach from the guy. “Here. Just be more careful.”

“Will do.” The boy smiled, hugging his ball tight. “Thanks.”

I nodded. The boy ran away and the drunken guy turned to me. “If I get more sand all over me, it’s on you.”

My fists clenched. I turned to the guy. Charlotte’s hand on my arm sent a shock—a good shock—through my system and I took a deep breath. This guy wasn’t worth my irritation.

I gave him my back and faced the beautiful girl lying beside me.

A smile adorned her face.

“What?”

“You. Being kind to the kid. I like it.”

I shook my head. Well, I had almost complained too, but he was just a kid. It wasn’t his fault. I knew he hadn’t thrown the ball at us on purpose.

A few moments later, Charlotte’s friends Liana, MaryAnn, and Rebecca joined us.

It was odd to be the only male among four beautiful girls, but if it meant I could spend a few extra hours with Charlotte, then I would put up with their girlie conversation.

Liana and Becca took the chairs, and MaryAnn sat on the edge of the towel.

“So,” Becca said, her gaze scanning the crowd, “how many hot guys do we have here?”

Liana grabbed a beer out of the cooler. “Too many. The way I like it.”

I groaned. Every guy had a limit. “Could you girls not talk about guys right now?”

Charlotte laughed, her eyes closed.

“Why?” MaryAnn smiled at me. “I bet that you talk about girls all the time with your friends, and the words you use are not appropriate for the general public.”

I took a sip of my beer. “Yeah, well, I’m not with my friends. I would appreciate it if you refrained from speaking about guys at all while I’m here.”

Liana laughed. “Oh my God, those big words. Appreciate? Refrained?”

MaryAnn winked. “He’s trying to impress our gal.”

“I think she’s already impressed,” Becca said.

“Leave me out of this,” Charlotte protested without opening her eyes. She seemed so at peace, savoring the sun’s rays on her shining skin. I wanted to roll over her and lick h—

“What are we gonna talk about, then?” Liana asked.

MaryAnn finished her beer in one long gulp and stood. “I know what we’re gonna do.” She beckoned the other girls to stand. “Hot guys at four o’clock, and I think they’re alone. Let’s go over there.”

“What?” Becca eyed the group. “Just go and introduce ourselves?”

MaryAnn smiled. “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of standing close, making eye contact, and letting them come to us.”

Liana jumped up. “I’m in.”

And just like that, they weaved their way to the group—their victims for the night.

I shook my head.

“What are you smiling about?”

I turned to Charlotte and found her spying on me, her hand over her eyes, a smile of her own.

“Just amused,” I answered.