Eighteen months ago, Navy pilot Greg Marsters was banished from Wyndham Shores, Massachusetts after his marriage fell apart. Now he’s returned to spend his shore leave restoring antique schooners for his old mentor so that he can buy a boat of his own. After making the biggest mistake of his life, Greg has vowed to steer clear of romantic entanglements, but he soon finds himself drawn to an old friend from high school.
Melanie Grantham is the only person in town interested in hearing Greg’s side of the story, and despite his promise to sail away alone the first second he can, Greg takes her up on her offer for the sexual healing they’re both in desperate need of. Their hot nights throw him for a loop, and the sex is out of this world. But Greg can’t forgive himself for the mistakes of his past. Will he leave Melanie behind again before he realizes he’s been given another chance for true love?
Melanie leaned toward him. Greg moved closer but hesitated, as if unsure whether he should bring his mouth to hers. She pressed her lips to his, testing him out, seeing if he’d respond. He did. They kissed, their mouths melding into one another. She parted her lips and felt his mouth open against hers in response. Then he sank his tongue into her mouth and shifted closer to her.
He deepened the kiss further. She felt a twinge between her thighs and moaned softly in her throat when his tongue rubbed against hers. Then he pulled away.
“Mel, what’s going on here?” he asked.
“Kissing. Do you like it?”
He looked at her. “Yeah. I like it a lot.”
“Me, too. No one would guess you’re out of practice.”
He laughed quietly.
She grew serious, her smile fading. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.”
“You’ve exceeded my expectations.”
He smiled. “Is that right?”
She nodded. Melanie leaned in and kissed him some more, and Greg placed one hand on her hip and explored the curve of her. His other hand went to her breast, touching her lightly through her T-shirt.
She slid her lips over his throat, exploring the rough texture where the stubble was beginning to come in. Even after their long day he smelled like aftershave. It mixed with his unique masculine scent and she couldn’t get enough. She licked the five-o’clock shadow on his neck and explored the texture of the softer skin below. She ran her hand down his chest, feeling the hard muscles draw in beneath her hands.
Then she placed her hand over the bulge in his crotch, rubbing lightly while they kissed. She felt him harden through his jeans.
Greg touched her hand. “What’s happening here, Mel?”
She licked her lips, her breath coming fast, her heart pounding. “I want you. But you’re not feeling it.”
“I’m feeling it, but I haven’t even taken you out on a real date.”
“I’d like you to take me out,” she said.
“Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock.”
“Mel, whether we go out or not, I can’t give you what you need,” Greg said. “A meaningful relationship is the last thing I’m after right now.”
“Who said anything about a meaningful relationship?”
“What are you saying?” Greg asked.
“I’m saying we could have this for now. If you’ll let me.”
“I’ve got nothing to give you.”
“I have nothing to give you, either.” She kissed him again. “Take off your shirt,” she murmured in his ear.
He did. She slowly kissed her way down his bare chest, then his stomach, as she went. Then she slid to her knees on the carpet and reached for the zipper of his jeans.