19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
TEAGAN
Ispin around and shove my hands into my hair as I try to repress the image of Lane’s full breasts and the milky smooth skin of her perfect ass from my mind.
Shit.
It’s impossible. I’m a good man, but not that good.
Water splashes a few feet away, a reminder that Lane is within reach and completely nude. “It’s cold!” she shouts with a laugh. “Well . . .?” A splash of water hits the deck behind me, spraying my calves. “Are you coming in, or are you going to make me swim alone?"
I exhale a shaky breath.
Does she have any clue what she’s fucking doing to me?
I may be strong-willed, but I have serious doubts about whether I can plunge into the lake naked with Lane and not make a move on her.
So why am I turning around and dropping my shorts?
I watch as Lane’s gaze shifts to my boxer briefs. I know she can very clearly see the effect she’s having on me, and I smirk. Her face is flanked in shadows, but I don't need to see her expression to know her cheeks are a beautiful shade of pink.
I slide my thumbs under the elastic of my boxer briefs and tug them down, a little surprised when Lane doesn’t turn away to give me privacy as I drop them. Then again, she’s done nothing but surprise me since I’ve met her. Every single time I’m with her, she reveals some new layer of herself I get to unwrap like a fucking gift. And playful, uninhibited Lane is dangerous. I’m already all-in on this girl, but this side of her has the ability to make me fall to my knees.
Her eyes rake down my body, taking me in like I’m a prize horse she’s considering buying. But I don’t mind, not one bit. Lane Turner’s eyes on me are something I could get used to, so I let her look, take her fill. Maybe she’ll think of me when she’s alone in bed at night.
I groan at the thought.
I’ll sure as fuck be thinking about her.
She licks her lips, her gaze flickering over me one last time before suddenly turning and swimming a few feet away, which I take as my cue.
I dive into the water. The sharp cold bites at my skin, and I’m enveloped in darkness before the kicking of my arms and legs draws me to the surface.
I burst from the water and whip my hair from my eyes, only to find her a few feet away. Even from here, the mesmerizing blue of her eyes transfixes me.
Inhaling, I catch my bearings and close the distance between us, treading a foot in front of her. “Seems a little unfair, don't you think?” I murmur.
“What?”
“You’ve seen every inch of me, but you turned and dove into the water before I could get my fill.” My gaze dips to her chest covered by the lapping of water, as if I can see below its surface to what’s beneath.
She bites her lip, grinning as she shrugs, and damn if I don’t want to reach out and pull her into my arms, remove the lip from beneath her teeth and tug on it with my own.
We stare at each other for a moment, both of us treading circles around the other when I ask, “So, how’s it feel, skinny dipping? Is it everything you imagined?”
She hums, tipping her head to the sky for a moment as if contemplating my question. “I think it is, actually. I feel . . . alive.” She laughs, a shaky sound as she lowers her head again. “Or maybe it’s just you that makes me feel this way.”
Heat blooms inside my chest, filling the hollow ache as my gaze lowers to her lips where droplets of lake water cling to her cupid’s bow.
I want to kiss her so damn bad it hurts. Make her forget her own name, erase the scars left behind by Sophie’s father, ease whatever turmoil lurks behind her walls. And so I swim closer, until there’s only inches between us instead of feet. Close enough to hear her subtle intake of breath.
“What are we doing here, Lane?”
Her throat bobs. “I don’t know.” She breathes.
Not exactly the answer I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. For now.
I reach out and tug her to me, wrapping my arms around her and drawing her into my chest, so I can bear her weight, treading water for the both of us.
Her body pressed to mine in all the right places makes it hard to breathe. A vise grips my chest, and when she wraps her legs around my waist, it fucking squeezes without restraint.
I grunt, mustering every ounce of willpower I possess not to touch her in all the places hidden by the frigid water. “You’re making it hard to be a gentleman here, Lane.”
“I wasn’t aware being a gentleman was a requirement when swimming nude among friends.”
I close my eyes, mashing my molars to dust. “Well, I don’t really make a habit of swimming nude with my friends,” I grind out.
Fuck. I hate that word. Never hated a word more in my entire life.
Friends.
The word rattles in my brain like loose change.
Fuck being friends. I want to crush my mouth to hers, to taste her lips and slide my hand between us to the sensitive place between her legs, if only to see her reaction before I make her moan.
But I made Lane a promise and I’m not going to break it, especially not in the heat of the moment when she can’t even define what she feels for me. And I sure as shit won’t after she’s had a couple glasses of wine.
When I finally kiss her, I need to be sure she wants me. I need to know beyond the shadow of a doubt, she wants more than friendship because when I take Lane Turner, there will be no going back. She’ll be mine, every single piece of her. Body, heart, and soul.
She shifts against me, adjusting her arms around my neck and grinding against my hard length in the process.
I hiss, gut clenching from the contact, and her eyes widen. It’s as if her power over me somehow shocks her even though I’ve made it completely obvious I want her.
“You’re still. . .” She trails off, then clears her throat.
Obviously, she thought the cold water would take care of my friend from the land down under, but the chill of the lake has nothing on the sex appeal of Lane Turner.
“You have quite the effect on me.” My mouth curves.
Her finger traces the lines of my collarbone, her tone soft as she asks, "Do all your girl friends have this effect on you?"
“I told you before.” I shake my head. “I don’t have friends that are girls. Only you.”
“Why me?” Her eyes lift.
“I think you know.”
She may have a buzz and we may be skirting a line we shouldn’t here, but there’s no point in pretending.
I want Lane.
I’ve wanted her since the moment I laid eyes on her, and I won’t let her forget, for even a second, how desirable she is simply because I vowed to settle for friendship.
She hums under her breath, and the sound reverberates through my chest, sending more blood south.
Great. Just what I fucking need.
I grip her ass and shift her position so she’s higher around my waist. I’m not sure how much of this I can endure. My self-restraint is a thin thread between us, growing weaker by the second as her bright blue eyes stare up at me, daring me to act on something I fear she’ll regret later. Unfortunately for her, I know what she’s doing. She’s afraid, scared shitless, and she’s trying to give me all the control and push me to make a move, so later on, when she freaks out—and she will inevitably freak out—she’ll have someone to blame. But as much as I want her, Lane regretting me is the one thing I can’t handle. And if I take advantage, the moment I leave tonight, all of her fears and worries and inhibitions will come rolling in like a roaring thundercloud.
“Damn, I want to kiss you,” I whisper, brushing a thumb over the corner of her mouth. In case it isn’t completely obvious, I need her to know. I don’t want my lack of action to make her feel like I don’t want her in every conceivable way because I do.
Her gaze homes in on my mouth, her hair drying around her face in thick, wavy ropes as she licks her lips. “Then do it.”
“Friends, remember?” I say through clenched teeth.
“Friends are overrated.”
Fuck yes, they are. At this moment, in particular.
“Lane . . .” I lick my lips, a warning lilt to my voice as I instinctively lean closer. Her breath cascades over my mouth, and I fist my hands behind her back.
“Teagan . . .” she mocks.
I swallow and press my forehead to hers, my breath heavy in my ears and mingling with the erratic beat of my heart.
My hands slide up her back, slick from the lake.
I close my eyes, inhaling the scent coming from her skin—brown sugar and something floral?and I want to drown in her, plunge into her depths and never surface.
A shaky breath parts my lips as her hands start their own perusal, gliding over the muscles of my back, my shoulder blades, up to my neck and raking into my hair.
I imagine what it would be like to crush my mouth to hers, to kiss her until those hands and fingers yank at my roots. I imagine her breathy moans, the contented sighs I’m certain I can coax from her.
And then her hands slide between us, tracing the muscles of my pecs, moving over the ripple of my abdomen clenching even tighter at her southward movement.
A breath hisses between my teeth as she stops just above my groin, pausing as if she knows what she’s doing to me. How much she’s torturing me.
I blink my eyes open to see her hooded gaze, clouded with lust in the moonlight, and I wonder if she’s been with anyone since Sophie’s father. If my instincts are right, she hasn’t. Because if there’s one thing I know about Lane, it’s that she puts her daughter first above all else, even above her own pleasure.
And damn if I don’t find that fucking attractive.
I want to be the one to give her everything, including a safe place to fall, but also the release she needs, the one she deserves. I want to see her come undone at my hand, be the one to make her unravel.
My breathing turns shallow as I fight my resolve.
Fuck, I’m going to cave.
I can feel it.
If I’m going to stop this, now is the time. Otherwise, I won’t stop until my hands and mouth are everywhere and she’s screaming my name.
I inhale, filling my lungs with a cleansing breath as I remind myself I’m playing the long game. This isn’t about one time or one night. This is about wanting all of Lane, all of the time. This is about making her mine.
And she’s not ready.
I know she’s not.
I grip her thighs, ready to lift her off me and bracing myself for the inevitable rejection I know I’ll see on her face when the monitor on the dock beside us crackles to life.
“Mommy!” Sophie’s voice, small and afraid, cries out in the darkness.
The glazed-over look in Lane’s eyes clears.
She blinks once, twice, then curses under her breath. “Saved by the bell,” she says, then releases her hold on me and swims back to the dock.