Chapter 25 #3
She was more artistic than athletic. Yoga was about as challenging as she liked.
That became clear in the first few minutes.
She also had a distinct height disadvantage, but Vince’s long reach kept them in the game.
And he saved her from more than one spike in the face.
They were laughing and out of breath when she finally cried uncle and swam to the side.
The kids had studying to do, an excuse Erica didn’t buy for a minute on a Friday night, but they dried off and headed out. Tasha bent to her dad, who had his arms propped on the pool edge, and whispered loud enough for her to catch, “I really like her. Don’t mess this up.”
He laughed quietly. “I don’t intend to.”
She swam over and waved goodbye. “Do you think they’re serious?”
“Hell, I hope not,” he grumbled, watching as the sports car pulled out of the drive. “If he’s a climber, she’ll figure him out. She always does.”
“Smart like her dad.”
He slipped an arm around her waist and pushed off from the side, floating with her leaning against his chest. “She’s got my good instincts. She told me not to mess things up with you.”
She angled her head and smiled up at him in the waning light. “I heard. For the record, you’re doing fine, so far.”
“Only fine?” He splashed her lightly.
“I meant great,” she said, breaking away.
He grunted and came after her.
“Spectacular. Stupendous,” she cried then squealed when he dove and tugged her under. He stole a kiss under the water, and they both came up grinning.
Not long after, his parents turned in. Ray switched the pool lights on for them as they said good night.
“Alone at last,” he said, swimming lazily toward her.
He had a hungry look in his eyes, and she felt a little like the shark’s dinner.
His arms slid around her and pulled her against him.
His kiss was slow at first then deepened.
Not possessive or commanding. Hungry. And mutual, if she were honest. Beneath the water, she felt him, hard and unmistakable against her hip.
Her body answered on its own, shifting closer before her brain had quite decided to.
Her hands slid up his shoulders as they drifted toward the deep end of the pool. When her feet could no longer touch, she hooked her leg around him, and she suspected he had planned it that way.
His mouth moved to her neck then slid along the bend to her shoulder. Under the water, their bodies aligned, the cool water contrasting with the heat building between them.
He hooked his thumbs under the straps of her suit and slid them down her arms, sending a shiver down her spine. Her nipples brushed his chest, hardening instantly. As he bent to take one into his mouth, her fingers slid into his wet hair.
“We shouldn’t…” she whispered. “What if someone comes out?”
“They won’t,” he murmured, lifting her higher as he moved to the other breast.
“They could,” she replied, her halfhearted protest lost in the gentle lapping of the water against the side of the pool.
“I’ve known Ray and Margie Cooper for over four decades,” he said confidently, his head coming up. “Short of a detonation, once in bed, they stay in bed.”
As he spoke, he towed her toward the steps at the shallow end. He released her too close to an underwater light. She crossed her arms, a small comfort, as she watched him bound up the stairs. Just as she was about to follow him, the lights died, plunging her into darkness.
“Vince?” she called, her voice a little shaky.
She jumped when his arms, warm and firm, slid around her from behind, and his mouth found her shoulder again.
“Now we only have the moon to contend with,” he murmured, his lips gliding on her water-beaded neck.
She tilted her head to the side, her resistance rapidly dying. “You thought about this on the drive up.”
“Damn straight,” he rasped, the rumble in his chest vibrating through her. “And have thought about nothing else since I saw you in black lace and that tiny skirt.”
He tugged her suit the rest of the way off and turned her to face him.
The next instant, he lifted her from the water, setting her onto the cool, slick vinyl of an inflatable raft.
The night air brushed her skin, the bright moon hung above, and the birds in the trees stood witness to her exposure. She felt aroused and a little appalled.
Then he draped her legs over his shoulders, his hands curling around her inner thighs, pushing them wider. His thumbs spread her open, and when his mouth closed over her, everything else fell away.
Her fingers threaded into his hair, holding him to her in a silent plea for more. It wasn’t long before a moan escaped and a tremor rolled through her.
Her head tipped back. She was almost there, but the raft rocked beneath her. She grabbed hold of the vinyl, but her wet hand slipped. If she flipped, her only regret would be not finishing.
He adjusted, forearm bracing her hips, anchoring her in place. Then a finger slid inside her, the rhythmic in and out glide matched by the flick of his tongue on her clit.
“Mercy,” she groaned. “I can’t take it.”
Her thighs clamped, a desperate grip around his head as she came in a shuddering, raft-rocking, glorious release.
His hands, now gentle, soothed her, stroking her in tender sweeps as he stood.
When the inner tremors stopped and she relaxed, he shifted her, pulling her legs around his waist. Then scooped her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her up the steps, trying not to think of the image they made with his hands on her behind, and the rest of her fair skin bared to the cooling air.
Her goal had been to make a good impression on his parents, not fry their retinas.
“Where are we going?” she asked when he walked out of the pool area.
“Inside. To bed,” he said huskily, the proof that only she’d found release nudging her thigh with each step.
Inside sounded good. Bed sounded better.
They never made it past the living room.
He propped her on the back of the couch, moved between her thighs, and sank deep. They returned to frantic, hands everywhere, lips clinging, her cries breaking free once more. His groans of pleasure mixed with hers as, this time, they came together.
Breathing the same air, they half stood, half leaned, still wrapped around one another.
His heartbeat was steadying now, but she could feel it, slow and certain against her chest. She got a feeling, maybe more of an impulse, but something settled into place, and she had to act on it.
“This is probably bad timing, but I need you to know… I’m falling in love with you. ”
“Excellent timing because I’ve fallen for you too, darlin’.”
She caught the difference immediately. Not falling. He was already there.
He lifted her again, arms squeezing a little tighter, and started for the bedroom.
“I can walk,” she said, with a little laugh.
“Yeah, but after that, you shouldn’t have to.”
She didn’t know if he meant the orgasm, her two to his one, or the profession of love. Either way, she’d won and wasn’t asking for clarification.