Page 49 of For Better or Hearse

“You’re getting burned.”

“Despite what you may believe, I have lubed up many a time.”

At her answer, Nathaniel clears his throat, and she smirks at his obvious discomfort.

Ash lowers her head, inspects the pinkening tinge beginning to bloom on one arm. “My skin is repellant, I swear. The sun hates it.”

“That’s because the sun down here is a menace.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

Brows raised, he flattens his mouth and gives her a look. “It’s because of all the sand. It reflects the sun.” He dips his chin. “Turn around. You missed your shoulders.” When she hesitates, Nathaniel’s mouth quirks to the side. “Melanoma is a real risk.”

“My god, you have such a boring doctor brain.” Breath held, Ash moves onto the edge of his lounge, giving him her back.

With a chiding sigh, he grabs the bottle of sunscreen. Into his hand goes a large dollop, like a stigmata in paradise.

One big, warm palm lands on her back. Ash tenses. Hisses a breath at the contact. “Should you be doing this?” she goads. “Touching me?”

“Ah,” he says, tone dry, “I forgot the part where you spontaneously combust at human contact.”

“You never know,” she murmurs. Then, horrified to feel her lips parting in something like a smile, she flattens them.

Almost delicately, his hands skim up the backs of her arms to her shoulders. Jesus. The grip in his hands. Long fingers, broad palms.

He begins to rub.

Oh.Oh.

The sun, the rum heat her face. There’s a lovely little pulse down below she hasn’t felt in such a long time.

Nathaniel flexes his hand, moving his fingers just so to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear. Warmth coils and curls. She glances over her shoulder at him.

“Careful,” she warns breathlessly. “You get to my throat, you give it a quick throttle, and it could all be over.”

It’s all her brain can do. Tease. To chase away their strange yet welcome closeness. Her defenses are down, and she can’t even help it.

“Don’t tempt me,” he says, sounding strained.

Ash leans into the slow rhythm of his touch. Leans back. Closes her eyes, soaks in the feeling of being braced by his large palm.

Nathaniel makes a noise deep in his throat as his thumbs smooth up, tracing the arc of her shoulder. It’s a delicious sensation. The gentle search of his hands, tracing over her bare skin, inking pulse points. Breaking boundaries.

She wants more. Wants it harder. Him against her. Like paperweights.

“Ash,” he says, voice catching, fingertips on the curve of her throat.

“What?” she whispers. A lick of heat curls up her spine, and she shivers. “What is—”

“Nathaniel!”

The sharp bleat of his name sends her heart jumping and breaks the spell between them.

Nathaniel jerks back from her, his hands slipping over her shoulders, his touch disappearing. She twists, taking in the sight of him. He looks like a man come out of a trance. Face flushed, hair damp, rumpled and caught off guard.

He scans the pool, then goes stiff.

Ash follows his line of sight.