Josie presses down hard into my chest, her head thrown back, dark hair falling in waves behind her, and lets out a moan that I feel all the way through her body to my cock.

“Yes,” I hiss, and reach forward. She rocks her hips back and forth, fucking me with a grace that’s somehow still surprising after all these months.

There’s only one thing I like more than the sight of her riding me like this, and I’m about to see it in three, two, one—

I press the pad of my thumb against her clit and rub it in little circles. I’ve spent six months exploring her body, and this is one of the things she can’t get enough of.

With one hand on the curve of her ass I brace her, pushing her forward into my thumb, and increase the pressure, bit by tiny bit, until she explodes with a cry, back arched, thrusting down onto me. I’m in deep, and it feels so fucking good I can’t stand it. I’m almost at the edge myself and I pull her down hard by the hips, all her muscles working together to ride out the orgasm. The tension, the way she draws me in, takes me over.

She stays upright until I’m spent, then comes down low to kiss me. Slowly. Achingly. It’s the last thing she does, always, and both of us linger in this moment for as long as we can.

Today, that’s not very long, because we’re running right up against check-out time in our bungalow at Emerald Shores.

Josie breaks the kiss and leaps off me, rushing into the bathroom. “What time is it?”

“Two minutes to twelve.”

“That’s plenty of time!” she calls over the running water.

“I could get a late checkout, you know.”

She comes dashing out, tugging on her clothes and patting at her hair. “What’s the fun in that? Plus, it’s against the rules.”

The rules. We always have rules for our weekend getaways. Sometimes, it’s no phones. This time, it’s no bailing ourselves out with bribes. Now that Cash Industries owns Emerald Shores, it’s an especially ridiculous game, but Josie insists.

By the time I have my pants back on she’s already at the door, our rolling suitcases in hand. “Come on, slowpoke. We’ll miss our flight.” Then she grins at her own joke. Her one admission was that we could still take one of the jets in the Cash fleet. Even when she’s being a stickler, she still doesn’t like to wait in the security lines.

“I’m hurrying.” I lift the phone from the bedside table and dial into the front desk. “Charlie Cash. I’m calling to say we’re checking out.”

The man on the other end of the line gives as little chuckle. “Perfect, sir. I’ve made…a note.” He’s handling his role very well.

“Thanks.” I put the handset down and go to Josie’s side at the door. “One more for the road?”

She tilts her face up for a kiss. It very nearly lands us in bed, but just when it’s getting too hot and heavy to turn back, she pulls away with a giggle. “That counted as more than one,” she says, then heads out the door, onto the beach. Josie takes a deep breath of the ocean air and gazes down the stretch of sand. “Hell of a weekend, Mr. Cash.” Then, because she is the world’s largest dork, she raises a hand for a high-five.

I don’t leave her hanging.

She lets out a little sigh and turns back toward the path leading back to the main building, where the car is waiting to take us to the airport. The suitcases bump behind her. 

“There’s one more thing,” I call after her, and she turns, her hair falling across her face.

“Oh, stop. If it’s something dirty, we can do that on the plane.”

“Come here.”

She wrinkles her nose but comes bounding back over to me anyway. “What is it?”

“Do you remember the first time we were here?”

Josie’s eyes go wide. “Yes. I do remember it. There’s a reason we don’t say in Bungalow Six. Tempting fate, for sure.”

“Yeah, there was that. But I remember falling in love with you for the first time.”

She grins at me. “You’re sweet.” On tiptoes, she kisses my cheek. “You ready to go?”

“I fell in love with you for the first time,” I intone. “Pretty much right here. Not this exact spot, but it’s very close.”

Josie is confused for one moment longer, and then her eyebrows shoot up. “Are you—”

“Josephine Paxton, I was an idiot for ever spending a day in my life without you,” I say, and that’s when I get down on one knee, right there in the sand, the waves crashing in our ears, playing at the shore. “I want every day with you, for as long as you’ll have me.” I’ve been hiding the black velvet box all weekend, and now that it’s time to take it out, my hands are a little unsteady. But I manage. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She shrieks, at the very top of her lungs, so loudly that a couple down the beach turns to gawk. “Yes!”

Then she’s crying, flinging her arms around my neck, and I stand up into a storm of her kisses. She holds her trembling hand out long enough for me to slip the ring on. It’s a gleaming emerald surrounded by a ring of diamonds, and at the sight of it she’s possessed by the urge to kiss me again.

When we finally surface, Josie’s beaming, laughing, practically dancing in the sand. “I don’t know what I want to do more. Tell everyone or take you back inside?”

“How about both?”

She leaps into my arms, face alight, abandoning the suitcases. 

I carry her back into the bungalow, kick the door shut behind us, and take the love of my life to bed.