Chapter 15
The water should cool me down but doesn't.
Her legs brush mine as we tread water, and I have to lock down every instinct screaming at me to pull her closer, wrap those legs around my waist, find out what that hidden treasure between her thighs feels like.
“You're staring,” she says, breathless.
“Yep.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Probably.” I force myself to release her waist, putting distance between us before I do something we're not ready for. “But not for the reasons you think.”
She tilts her head, water droplets sliding down her neck. I track their path with my eyes, my jaw clenching.
“What reasons should I be worried about?”
I need a distraction. Something to channel this energy before I break my own promise about taking our time.
“How's your self-defense training?” I ask abruptly.
She blinks, mouth parting. “What?”
“Your brother mentioned you took some classes.”
Something shutters in her expression, and I immediately regret bringing it up. But then she straightens, lifting her chin.
“I did. Six months of Krav Maga.”
Pride makes me nod.
“Good. That's good.” I start moving toward the shallower end where we can stand. “Want to learn some water-specific techniques?”
“Right now? You’re kidding.”
“Why not? We're here. Might as well make it educational.”
She laughs, following me. “Are you seriously trying to give me self-defense lessons to avoid kissing me again?”
“I'm trying to be responsible.”
“That's the worst reason I've ever heard.”
Maybe. But if I kiss her now the way I'm dying to, I won't stop. And she deserves better than me losing control on the first night.
We reach the shallow end where the water hits my chest, her shoulders. I can stand, feet planted on the smooth stone bottom.
“Okay, sir.” She's grinning now, eyes dancing with challenge. “Teach me.”
Those words in that voice nearly undo me.
I clear my throat. “First scenario. Someone grabs you from behind in the water. What do you do?”
“Elbow to the ribs?”
“Won't work as well in water. Resistance slows you down.” I move behind her, carefully—giving her time to object. “Can I demonstrate?”
She nods, and I wrap one arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest.
Huge tactical error. I’m erect. She’s soft.
Focus.
“The instinct is to pull away,” I say with my voice rougher. “But in water, that won't work. Instead, you drop your weight.”
I demonstrate, letting my knees bend, pulling her down with me until we're both submerged to our necks.
“Then you twist.” I guide her through the motion, and she turns in my arms, breaking the hold.
When she surfaces, she's laughing, hair plastered to her face. “That actually works.”
“Told you.”
“Show me another.”
“Wrist grab.” I catch her wrist gently. “Someone gets hold of you, tries to pull you somewhere. What's your move?”
She thinks about it, biting her lip. “Twist toward their thumb?”
“Exactly. Weakest point of the grip.” I demonstrate slowly, and she mimics the motion. “Good. Now faster.”
We drill it a few times, and I try to focus on the technique instead of the way she looks with water sliding down her skin, the way her breath comes faster with exertion, the way her eyes light up when she gets it right.
“What about from the front?” she asks. “If someone grabs both wrists?”
I take both her wrists in my hands, standing close enough that the water ripples between us.
“Same principle. Circle your arms up and out, breaking at the thumbs.” I guide her through it once. “Try it.”
She does, and the motion brings her hands up and over, breaking my grip. But instead of pulling away, she catches my wrists, reversing the hold.
“Like that?”
Her face is inches from mine. Those whiskey-brown eyes are molten in the pool lights, lips parted, chest rising and falling with quick breaths.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out gravel-rough. “Just like that.”
Neither of us moves.
The water laps gently around us. Her pulse hammers visibly in her throat.
“Spence...”
“I know.”
“This was supposed to be a distraction.”
“Worst plan I ever had.”
She releases my wrists, but doesn't step back. Instead, her hands slide up my forearms, over my biceps, across my shoulders.
“Maybe we should go back to just swimming.”
“Maybe.”
Still neither of us moves.
Her fingers trace the edge of my tattoo—the one that covers the scar on my shoulder. “Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
“What happened?”
“Knife fight in Yemen. Long time ago.”
Her touch gentles, tracing the full length of the scar under the ink. “You've been through so much.”
“So have you.”
“We're a pair, aren't we?”
“Yeah.” I catch her hand, pressing it flat against my chest where my heart is trying to break through my ribs. “We are.”
She rises on her toes, and I know what's coming. Know I should stop it. Know I won't.
“Your brother will kill me.”
“Probably.”
Her mouth is a breath away from mine.
“Liberty—”
She kisses me.
Not tentative. Not careful. She kisses me like she's been thinking about it as much as I have, like she's as desperate and wild and hungry as I am.
I groan into her mouth, hands finding her waist, sliding up her ribs, learning the shape of her.
Her legs wrap around my waist instinctively, and I walk us deeper, needing the water to support us because my knees are about to give out.
“God,” I breathe against her lips. “You're delicious. I can't get enough of you already.”
“Good. You know how I feel.”
I kiss down her jaw, her neck, feeling her pulse racing under my tongue. My hands span her waist, thumbs brushing the underside of her bikini top, and she arches into my touch.
“Love that. Don't stop.” She gasps on the last word.
“Impossible now.” My hand is already sliding lower, over the plane of her stomach, feeling her muscles jump.
“You giving me the all clear?” I ask.
“Yes. Please.”
That desperate, breathy plea destroys the last of my control.
My thumb skims the edge of her bikini bottom, tracing the line where fabric meets skin. She whimpers, fingers digging into my shoulders.
“You're so soft. Feel like silk. Just like I knew you would.”
She whimpers, head dropping back. “Spence—oh god.”
I push beneath the fabric and circle her clit slowly, watching her face, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her grip me harder.
Her head falls back, and I kiss her exposed throat, tasting chlorine and the pheromones that are drugging me.
For a beat, I slowly touch her, my lungs seizing, my pulse pounding everywhere. Especially through my shaft.
“Look at me,” I command roughly. “I want your eyes on me when part of me is inside you for the first time.”
She whispers, breathy, throat working. “I love the way you talk to me when you touch me.”
Good. She's perfect for me. I love vocalizing my desires, my thoughts to her. Can't stop myself.
Beautiful. Pupils dilating more and more, lips swollen from my kisses.
“That's it, sweetheart. Stay with me. When we're together, your eyes are on me. I want you to know who is loving your body.”
“I'm here, all of me.”
Those words rock me.
I increase the pressure slightly, slipping the tip of my middle finger into her heat, working it side to side to press into her tight-as-fuck entrance.
“God, woman. You feel so fucking good. You're going to choke the hell out of my cock when I take you.”
Her whole body shudders. She's close. So close I can feel it in the way she's trembling, the way her breathing has gone ragged.
“I'm going to make you come, beautiful.”
“I hope I can—”
“Trust me.” I kiss her again, swallowing her moans. Dragging my tongue against hers with the promise of more pleasure.
When I pull back, I’m husky and breathing hard. “I know what you need right now.”
Savoring her delicate feel, I work my middle finger in deeper as her body clenches around me.
“Oh, honey,” I groan, “you're tight as fuck.”
I'll be lucky if I don't come before she does.
Dipping my finger in and out, pressing the base of my thumb against her clit, I tear my gaze away from her so I can bite her neck.
Not only does she shudder, I do too. My arm bands tighter around her low back as lust runs hot in my veins.
Control. You're not going to rush this gorgeous, trusting creature. But I am keeping her here, not in her head.
“Eyes open,” I order and she blinks at me, dazed, flushed, breath on the verge of panting.
“You want more, tell me.”
She licks her lips, rolling her hips against me. “Yes, more. I need more.”
“Good girl,” I tell her huskily. I push a second finger into her tight heat and find her G-spot.
Gently, I tease her there, until she moans, eyes widening.
“That's it. Feel me. Only me. I've got you, it's just us. I'm going to take you to the edge.”
She exhales shakily, her teeth pinching her lip as she gets closer and closer. When she relaxes around me, I press in deeper, searching for the elusive place that I know will get her off.
There it is... that place. Right in front of her cervix.
“Oh!” Her legs tense. “Oh, gah...yessss.”
I watch her. She doesn't look away, doesn't fight it, instead softens in my arms, around my fingers until tears rise on her lashes.
“Fuck, angel. That's it,” I rasp with my heart lurching behind my sternum. My blood is a raging fire of need, my muscles so tense, I'm vibrating.
She opens her mouth on a silent scream as she twists involuntarily in my arms.
“Yes, Liberty.” I mark her neck, my breathing as hard and fast as hers.
I'm in trouble with this woman. There's no coming back. Her brother's going to have a fight on his hands if he thinks he can keep me away now.
I kiss her temple, hold her against my chest as her arms dangle limply over my shoulders. “That's my girl. I've never seen anything more incredible.”
She laughs, and I tip her back so I can see those incredible brown eyes.
“That was...” She starts and shakes her head, laughing.
“A terrible idea,” I tease, taking her mouth in a hungry, deep kiss that goes on until we absolutely have to break apart.
She tangles her fingers in my hair, her legs still around my hips. “Such a good, bad idea.”
“Completely irresponsible.” I laugh as my heart rate comes back down from the red zone.
“Totally.” But she's grinning, looking thoroughly satisfied and absolutely beautiful.
“Hot tub. Now. Because I need to sit down before I sink and drown us both.”