One Hot Winter Break (Yardley College Chronicles Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

that later.
    “Your car is right outside,” the driver continues. “The blue one by the curb. Let me take your bags.”
    The young man opens the car door for me, tips his cap. I slide into the blessed coolness of an air-conditioned, beige leather interior. Jonathon joins me. He catches my eye and gives me a dazzling, wicked grin.
    The car purrs along the highway from the airport. Soon we’ve reached the waterfront. “This is incredible,” I breathe. The water really is pure turquoise, and I glimpse stretches of blinding white beach. Most of the buildings are white stucco, though the towering hotels are like ribbons of glass that curve along the shoreline. The mirrored facades are every color of the rainbow—exotic turquoise, cool blue, dazzling gold, elegant rose-pink.
    I peer at them, taking mental notes of their architecture. One day I will design something like that. I don’t care what the professors in the School of Architecture say—the ones who have already advised me to switch majors because they don’t think I have the right sense of style. I’m willing to work hard and I can learn.
    I’m carrying my hoodie, but I’m still really hot in my jeans and body-hugging t-shirt. What I desperately want is to strip into a bikini. We turn, and ahead I see an array of boats moored at an intricate network of docks, bobbing in a harbor.
    “The hotel is near a marina?”
    Jonathon leans close to me. He hasn’t touched me much since our session of sex on the plane. Maybe he’s giving me some space. Maybe he needs some. He points to the horizon. “The resort is on a smaller island. It’s a ten mile boat ride. It has all amenities but if we want to come back here for shopping or dinner, it’s a short trip.”
    “We’re not going to your private island, are we?”
    He laughs. “No, my father is vacationing on that island this Christmas, and I didn’t want to be near him.”
    His family does have a private island.
    I’ve ridden on ferries and that was the type of boat I pictured. Instead, we board a sleek speed boat. Our luggage is stowed in the back, the engine roars, and we shoot out of the harbor into open water. The boat bounces on the waves, throwing spray in our faces. Jonathon’s arm is around me. I hold my hair back out of my face, thrilled. This is…stunning. The glorious sunshine and the warmth, the vast beautiful ocean, the cooling spray that tastes salty. I’ve never experienced anything like this.
    Laughing, I turn, intending to kiss Jonathon. He puts his finger to my lips, stopping me. Perhaps he doesn’t like public displays of affection, but given what he does in public at his clubs and what he did to me on the plane, I’m amazed.
    Soon, I see the island, a small strip of lush greenery surrounded by water that fades from mysterious indigo to clear bright blue. “That white ring…isn’t that a reef?”
    “Don’t worry,” Jonathon assures.
    We speed toward the reef. My grip on the side of the boat tightens. Then suddenly we slow, sending a wash of water ahead of us, and our captain—pilot?—guides us in through a narrow channel. We disembark and board an open-air vehicle that looks like a fancy golf cart. Again we have a driver, this one in a white uniform consisting of a short-sleeve shirt, shorts, and a white cap.
    He bids us a good-natured ‘Good Afternoon’ and winds his way around the people milling on the wooden dock. There’s lots of noise. Tourists chatter, golf cart horns honk, boat engines roar, seagulls caw.
    “I really want to strip off my jeans,” I whisper to Jonathon, certain my words can’t be heard over all this sound.
    “Mmm, good idea,” he murmurs. He leans over me, undoes the zipper of my fly with speed and consummate skill. His fingers slide down, moving inside my panties.
    “Not here. Not yet,” I whisper. At his look of disappointment, I feel a spurt of guilt. To tease him, to keep enticing him, I ask softly, “What exactly do you do when you tie a