LAUREN

Hours later, Julian and I were sprawled out on low-slung beach chairs, a small plastic table between us laden with a spread of crusty baguette sandwiches, sliced mango, and two tall glasses of peach iced tea.

The midday sun was a relentless, golden weight, but under the shade of our massive ivory umbrella, the air felt crisp and fresh.

I couldn't keep my eyes off him. I caught myself constantly staring lustily at the man who had just spent the morning dismantling and wrecking me by the pool. Julian looked like a dream in the dappled light. His honey-blonde hair was drying in messy, salt-kissed spikes, and his blue...