She wasn't beautiful, but he found the cuteness of her round face and pert nose enchanting. She jumped up and down with reckless abandon and pumped her fist in the air. The leggy brunette jogged over to join them after scoring the winning point in the game. The petite woman handed the brunette a towel, and she dried herself off with it. They exchanged a few words before the brunette returned to the court.
The girl with the mocha-colored skin touched the petite one’s arm, said something, and hurried away with a subtle limp that would have gone unnoticed by a human. Ethan didn't know what possessed him, but he dropped his t-shirt on the blanket and stepped off it.
The last thing in the world he liked to do was go near humans, but this girl called him as relentlessly as a siren called forth the ships. He hoped he wouldn't end up crashed against the rocks; or even worse, that she would be the one who ended up shipwrecked.
"I'll be back," he muttered to his sister and Stefan.
Isabelle barely glanced at him as she organized her supplies on the blanket. It was good to see she was still the same neat freak, he thought before his attention returned to the game. He kept his eyes focused on the girl as he circled the people gathered beside the court. The sand beneath his bare feet was warm and grainy as it shifted under his weight.
Turning sideways, he was careful not to touch anyone as he slid past the people and stepped beside her. When she stopped jumping, he realized the top of her head barely made it to the middle of his chest. Though she was small at about five-foot-two or three, there was something entirely alluring and feminine about her hourglass figure. The fit of her bikini top emphasized her handful-sized breasts when she started jumping again.
The smell of her brought to mind honeysuckle in the spring as it tickled his nostrils. Though a smattering of freckles dotted her nose, there were few other marks on her alabaster skin. He could hear her blood as it pulsed through her veins. The odd thing was that even though he wanted to taste her, he felt strangely calm around her. Even the beat of the other hearts surrounding him didn't arouse his ever-present yearning to kill. It was the first time in his life he'd ever felt truly peaceful, and the sensation was more pleasant than the aroma drifting from her skin.
She clapped her delicate hands together as she cheered for her friend.
"It's a good match," he commented.
At first, she didn't seem to notice him as her attention remained riveted on the game. Then her eyes slid to his chest. Her eyebrows furrowed before her head tilted back so she could take him in. Ethan's gaze ran over her almost fae-like features as he stared at her. Her upper lip was thinner than her full bottom lip, a contrast which added to her cuteness. He was tempted to bend his head and nibble on that bottom lip, but he refrained from terrifying the human by doing so.
Emma's mind spun as she tried to think of a reply instead of standing there like an idiot. But it was him. She’d hoped she would get the chance to see him again, but she certainly hadn't expected it to be right now, and she hadn't expected him to speak to her first. It didn't matter though; he was still standing there, watching her, and expecting an answer that proved she wasn't a moron.
"Ah, yes, it is." Her hesitant response wasn't the best in the world but at least she’d finally gotten a few coherent words out.
"Is the girl with the braids your friend?"
This brought a genuine smile to her face.
"She is," Emma said.
It took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts as he was charmed by her smile and the warmth radiating from her. "She's good."
"She is. Do you play?"
Ethan glanced at the court, but he found he much preferred to watch her than the game. "I do."
"You should jump in then."
"Maybe later."
Not even when he was sixteen, and fumbling with his first bra, had he felt this awkward and uncertain as he extended a hand to her. "Ethan Byrne."
"Emma Morgan."
Her skin was cool and felt like satin as she took his hand. A jolt of electricity seemed to sizzle from her hand to his, up to his elbow, and through the rest of his body. Her eyes dilated a little as her breathing hitched and her eyes searched his face in astonishment.
His hand involuntarily constricted upon hers as he stepped even closer to her. The heat of her body slid over his flesh as her bare arm came into contact with his chest. It took all he had not to pull her into his arms and kiss her, but he'd probably end up being slapped in the face if he did; something he'd well deserve for molesting her on the beach.
Emma's whole body still vibrated from being in contact with his. She felt as if she'd grabbed an electric fence, something she'd done once as a kid while visiting her cousin's horse farm. This time it was an entirely pleasant sensation whereas that one brought her to tears and sent her running across the yard to her mother's arms.
Fresh jolts of nervous electricity went through her body when his thumb brushed over her skin, and he moved a step closer to her. For one crazy second, she thought he was going to kiss her as his eyes deepened to a forest green color, and he pressed her knuckles against the firm muscles of his flat stomach. She'd known him for all of two minutes, but she would welcome his kiss and found herself longing for it.
"Here."
Ethan hadn't seen the young woman who had been standing with Emma before he approached, until she spoke and thrust a pink drink
