26
T he warmth from the sun-soaked rock radiated up my soles as I gazed at the water falling into the mineral spring. Light captured the splashes, turning them into little sparks firing in random directions as the therapeutic trickling sound allowed my body to shed the stress of the last few days.
The stuff with that weirdo Rourke was one layer of stress; my new job was another, and of course, there was so much work to do this year, not to mention the relentless burden of wearing a disguise and being aware every moment of every day that I had to stick to my stories.
But as soon as I grew close to someone and their trust in me deepened, it became increasingly difficult to keep up the pretense, so I broke off the relationship. Rourke was unique because I felt he was playing me as I played him, which created a curious dynamic.
Even though it might be true that he had terrible burns on his face, it still didn’t make sense to keep his ski mask on even when it was dark, and when I examined the art inked on his skin, I failed to find a single scar. It was odd to me that only his face was struck by the fire, not his neck or shoulders, just his face. This raised alarm bells, so I came here to gather my thoughts, find peace for an hour, and perhaps reach a resolution.
I was tempted to call Judith because I needed someone mature and calm to talk to who knew my history, but I couldn’t get reception here. Even though she was on maternity leave, I wasn’t comfortable calling her replacement, Sergeant George Tindale, so I guess I’ll have to dissect my strange life alone.
Using a fake ID to get a job that I was starting to love to cover my other fake ID to cover my real identity—two layers of fakeness—was causing me a constant headache of guilt. I felt bad for my employers and staff, and I felt bad for Rourke.
Speaking of Rourke.
The cool breeze brought the distant sound of a rumbling Mustang engine, and I knew Rourke had found his way here. Incredible. He managed to follow the route of all my bus transfers to arrive at my destination. I smiled at his persistence, but having space away from his prying stare would've been nice—just one place where I could be alone.
I dipped my toe into the cool, crystal water, waiting for the crushing footsteps of Rourke’s heavy boots stomping on dead leaves. I bet he spied on me through the trees last time I was here, stalking quietly through the thicket - stalking me before I realized I had a stalker.
My ears pricked when I heard footsteps nearing. I suppressed a smile and lowered my head, peering over my glasses to spot the incoming figure. The footsteps froze, and in my peripheral vision, I spotted a shadowy figure step out from behind one tree to another, disappearing from my view.
Rourke had arrived.
I bent down and tested the water temperature with my hand before slowly, tauntingly removing my glasses and placing them down in my bag. Under the weight of my stalker’s stare, I climbed up to a taller rock and pulled my sweater off, revealing my plain, white bra.
Still, at a painfully slow pace to tease, I slid my jeans down my legs and tried to pull my feet out of the leg holes gracefully but lost my balance a little and wobbled for a few seconds before managing to stop myself from falling altogether.
Taking a deep breath to suppress my bashful laughter, I discreetly glanced at the bushes where I last saw Rourke and spotted the outline of a man crouching down out of view. Standing in my underwear, I tossed my sweater and jeans onto my bag lying on the dry ground and was pleased when they landed in the right spot.
“Now, for my next trick, Mr. Freaky Mask Freak,” I whispered, trying desperately to suppress my smirk while imagining him getting hard in the expectation that I would remove my underwear.
Once I’d composed myself, I reached around to unhook my bra, and a rustle in the bushes indicated that he had moved positions. When I followed the sound, I caught a head drop down behind foliage and pretended I hadn’t noticed.
I let the bra straps slide down my bare arms and tossed them onto my growing pile of discarded clothes. My nipples were rigid from the cool air caressing them, but I was also being turned on watch by the masked man who pummeled me in bed two nights ago. We hadn’t spoken in person since then, but his gaze penetrated my spine as I rushed to class.
My panties were wet as his hungry eyes burned me up, so I was eager to discard them, teasingly, of course. My thumbs slipped under the elastic, and I slowly pushed them down my hips, pausing just above my pelvic bone, and I swore I heard Rourke groan.
Suppressing my smirk was becoming more difficult because I enjoyed this taunting exploit so much that I had to let my hair fall over my face to hide my expression before continuing.
At a snail’s pace, my thumbs pushed my panties further down my backside as the cool sprays from the waterfall peppered my skin. My breath hitched at how turned on I was.
This was not Riley Laws' style.
This was pure Annika.
Pushing my panties further down my thighs, exposing my pussy, lightly covered in hair. I didn’t care that I was unshaven because Rourke had already seen that part of me, and I didn’t hear him complain.
Dropping the panties to my knees, I wiggled my legs to let them fall to the ground. Then, I scooped them up with my toe, turned around, and flicked them onto my pile of clothes. Unfortunately, I missed my target, and they got caught on the spindly branch, but I’ll retrieve them later.
Completely naked and riveting in desire from the cool, damp air brushing against my skin, I dove into the water, completely submerged, ruining his pervert show. I swam down to the rocky bottom, taking my time before I rose to the surface again.
The heavenly sensation of the water enveloping my skin immediately calmed my nerves and caressed my soul; problems peeled away, leaving only the impending issue of the lurking man in the bushes.
When I surfaced, I took a large gulp of air, then dropped back into the water to lure him to the edge, hoping he’d come out of hiding and join me with or without a mask.
It’s so quiet and peaceful at the bottom of the pool; if I had gills, I would be down there longer, but being a mere human, I begin my rise to the top and spot the towering figure on the edge overlooking me.
Even with water in my eyes, I could tell the man didn’t have a mask on, so I rubbed my eyes with the base of my palm to get a clearer view of Rourke. Did he decide to show me his face?
“I'm not sure if this is appropriate behavior,” a smooth male voice crooned, and I gasped, shrinking to the back of the pool, closer to the waterfall.
That wasn’t Rourke’s voice. I mean…I don’t think it was his voice. I hadn’t heard his voice without being muffled by that annoying mask, but…
“Rourke?” I asked, embarrassed as the figure became more apparent and confusion stormed my body.
“Who’s Rourke?” he asked, annoyed as he seemed to know who I was.
I swallowed some water caught in my mouth and brushed my wet hair away from my eyes. A striking man stood before me, wearing a dark blue cap, grey hooded sweatshirt…cheekbones, those damn cheekbones.
“Um…” I began, unsure as to what I should do now. My clothes, towel, bag, and phone were all too far away, and there was no way I could get them without getting them and him seeing me naked.
“Ronan,” he filled me in. “Your boss.” He wiggled his finger at me. “I’m unsure if this is appropriate behavior for a kitchenhand at the elite gentleman’s club, Savile.”
“Well…it’s a good thing that your rich members don’t see me then as I work behind the scenes,” I argued nervously, worried that he might sack me.
“We’ve got a reputation to uphold,” he pressed, rubbing his jaw with the back of his fist, smirking, seemingly enjoying this interaction.
“How long have you been here?” I waded further back and folded my arms over my breasts. The water was so clear he probably could see right down to the pool floor and my legs and vagina as well. “Were you perving?”
“It’s a public place, and this is a public pool,” he stated. “Made by nature.”
“You didn’t answer my question so that I will take that as a ‘yes.’ My boss was perving at me,” I rationalized as I watched him step over the rocks to my clothes and bag.
“Can you see without your glasses?” he inquired, and I wondered if he was testing me.
“Not well,” I lied because I could see perfectly well without them, including that smug look on his face.
His big hand lifted my jeans and sweater off my bag to find my glasses underneath and picked them up. He then noticed my panties hanging off a twig and retrieved them, and I was so glad that the water cooled my cheeks because those panties were not exactly sexy. He screwed them up in his hand, then found the beach towel in my bag and dragged that out.
“When you’re ready,” he indicated, holding the towel out for me to be enveloped in.
“You want me to climb out with you watching?” I exclaimed, horrified. This venture had moved our relationship to a whole new level. Not that there was a relationship in the first place.
“I’ll close my eyes. I promise,” he crooned.
“I’m naked,” I asserted in case he missed the bulletin.
“I had noticed,” he sniggered.
“You saw everything?”
“Pretty much.”
“Oh no, kill me now.”
His smile was wide and warm. “I think you’re far more interesting alive.”
“Great to hear.”
“So, are you going to tell me who Rourke is?”
“He’s just a guy. I thought he was you for a sec.”
“You’re dating this Rourke character?” he questioned as his magnificent jaw started pulsating in angry beats.
“That’s a very personal question,” I stated hotly.
“Petra, you’re naked in the water, and I can see everything, so I kinda think we’re already at a personal level.” He jiggled the towel. “C’mon.”
“I’m not ready to get out. This is my solace. The place I come to get away from stress,” I explained, hoping he’d understand and leave.
“Fair enough,” he said, dropping the towel. He then gently placed my glasses on top, and I breathed a sigh of relief because it looked as if he was about to go. “I’ll come in,” he said.
“What? Will you come in? Here?” I asked to clarify as he threw his baseball cap off, telling me everything I needed to know.
Then, I pulled his sweatshirt over his head, and a moan escaped my lips at the sight of his bare body of rippling muscles in all the right places, flat stomach with a line of hair from his belly button disappearing under his jeans.
“Yeah,” he replied casually. “This pool is one of my regular spots, but usually, there’s nobody else here. So, I’ll continue as I normally would and pretend you’re not here. Deal?”
“Um…I’m unsure how that would work,” I considered as he dropped his jeans, and I turned away so it didn’t look as though I was perving at him when I wanted to perv at him. “Besides, you might get shrinkage because it’s quite cold in here.”
“It feels good to me,” he said. I could hear him wading through the water, and I wanted to turn around, but I kept to my corner, hugging my bare body.
“Okay…” looking everywhere but at him.
“So, this Rourke,” he persisted as the water sounded like he was making change. I glanced back to find he was submerged up to his flat stomach and walking toward me. I hope he treats you well.”
“He treats me okay, I suppose,” that was a tricky question to answer, considering that Rourke wore a mask when we had sex, never let me see his face, and is my personal stalker. I enjoyed the sex, though. I enjoyed it a lot. I wouldn’t mind another jaunt soon. But he was rough and angry and needed to punish me for something.
I swore I heard his Mustang’s engine. Oh my god, how would Rourke react if he walked in on me now? With him. Ronan. Beautiful Ronan. Naked.
“Okay? Just okay?” he questioned as his voice loomed closer. I glanced back again to find that he was making waves with the movement of his body, and his body happened to be moving closer to me—very close.
“It’s a lovely waterfall, isn’t it,” I tried to distract myself from him.
“Not as nice as the view I saw earlier,” he hinted
“You said you’re going to pretend I’m not here,” I reminded him.
“Sure,” he answered, appearing right before me with that gorgeous face covered in droplets, wet hair swept back, broad shoulders peeking above the water line. Oh god. “I’m pretending you’re not here.”
“Are you naked?” To my horror and delight, I could tell he was naked because the water was so clear, but I didn’t have my glasses on, so I had to pretend, too.
“As God intended.”
“Are we having another staff meeting?” I joked to calm my nerves because he was so close now that I could feel something graze my thigh, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t a snake.
“No,” he replied bluntly. “I’m pretending you’re not here.”
“Except you’re talking to me.”
“I’m being polite,” he argued. “And you saw at home in the water. A natural.”
“I am. I love the water,” I told him as he hovered, then draped one of those long, glistening arms over a rock.
“Marine biologist?”
I smiled. “Yes. You remembered.”
“So, ah, listen,” he said as his voice changed, and I knew he was about to throw a curveball. “What would Rourke say if I kissed you?”
“Um,” I cleared my throat to find the words. “He would say nothing. Actually, he would probably kill you.”
His eyebrows cocked up in mock horror, although his guy wasn’t concerned about Rourke at all.
I knew deep down Rourke was more than capable of hurting someone. His possessiveness was a massive red flag, and I felt it deeply in my bones. But weirdly, Riley No Friends warmed to his attention.
“Kill me? He seems sane,” Ronan chuckled. “But he’s not here, so what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“He’s at Gotland too,” I tried to steer the conversation away from the ‘kiss’ subject because butterflies were dancing in my stomach.
He made a face, dropping his arm from the rock and shrinking the gap between us again. “I don’t care. Rather not talk about Rourke at all.”
“Well, you did ask,” I pointed out.
Ronan was right over me now, droplet-covered nose two inches apart, blue eyes piercing through my skull, running all over my face and lips…
“This is unprofessional,” was the last thing I said before he leaned in and pressed those lips against mine.