Forbidden Summer Sins
Up close, he was even worse.
His skin smelled like chlorine and sun and something darker sandalwood, maybe, from whatever ridiculously expensive cologne he wore. A faint scar curved along his left ribcage, one she’d never noticed before. His swim trunks clung to his hips, outlining things Emma very much tried not to look at.
He noticed her staring of course he did and his mouth curved into that slow, dangerous smile that made her knees weak.
“Hey, Em,” he said, voice low and rough from shouting over the music. “Didn’t know you were back.”