Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was actually hilarious, watching Vincent grumble and snorkel, but they were finally at the last of five water-hazards.
Vince was not a happy man, but he’d been right.
The water was pretty disgusting.
Lace had put herself in charge of the buckets, and every time Vince came up grimacing, she took the slimy offerings from his mesh pouch and deposited them gingerly into the containers. They’d filled nine completely, and the last was nearing the top.
Still, Lace wasn’t complaining.
Seeing Vince bare-chested, the late evening dusk-light reflecting off his tanned torso, and catching a glimpse every now and then of his muscular ass as he dove, was quite the incentive to keep cheering him on.
Yeah. Near nakedness.
He’d eschewed his wet-suit, saying he didn’t want it to be perpetually smelly with whatever goop and chemicals were in the water. Instead, he’d opted for boxers only, which had caused Lace to draw in a fully appreciative gasp when he’d swiftly and unexpectedly dropped trou.
If she wasn’t imagining things, her nipples had actually stood up to take notice.
Which was certainly a first for a freaking long time, or at least since Lace had first gotten her diagnosis.
At that not-so-auspicious time, she’d pretty much divorced her mind from her breasts, telling them that until she was in the clear, they were ex-communicated; an isolated, not-to-be-focused-on part of her body.
Yeah. She had been treating the girls like pariahs, which probably wasn’t helping anything.
A tingle of excitement swept through her lower abdomen.
Maybe Vince could help her with that.
“This sucks ass,” the man in question spluttered, coming up again from the final water-hole.
Vince’s guess as to how long the job would take, had been spot on. The sun was close to setting.
“How many more dives?” Lace asked, not just curious, but a bit anxious to get on with the evening.
The time crunch was lamentable, because she did have to work tomorrow. Which meant rise-and-shine time was going to be tough if she and Vince “played” for half the night.
Still, it would be worth it.
Lace sighed that there’d be another possible, small distraction upon arriving home.
Vince had heard from Statler today, and the work on the bathroom was progressing at super-sonic speed, so they’d have to take time oohing and aahing at what had been accomplished, contacting Stat to give him kudos.
Maybe Vince could do that after she went to sleep.
“I’m going to call it quits after this one,” Vince grimaced, wiping some green goo off his mask. “And if I miss a few balls?” he scoffed. “No one’s going to go down and check my work.”
Before Lace could frame a quippy response to that, Vince had disappeared back underwater again.
Lace giggled and shook her head.
This was not how she’d thought her evening would go.
She’d expected that she and Vince would have all the time in the world to explore each other. But now? Well, now it might have to be a quickie to assuage their shared itch, with an in-depth follow-up to be determined.
Lace hustled the ninth bucket to the clubhouse which had been left open for them, putting it inside with the rest before returning to the water-hole.
Three minutes later, Vince’s head appeared.
“I’m finished,” he growled, spitting out his mouthpiece to toss a few more balls her way.
He dragged his body out of the drink, looking luscious, even for all his glop-dripping and griping.
Lace hustled over to him, holding out one of the towels they’d retrieved from the back of his truck. She draped it over his shoulders, even though she didn’t want to cover up the visual entertainment.
“Thanks,” he grumbled, scrubbing it over his chest. He brought it up to his head and also scruffed it over his short hair, seeing pieces of…something fall out. “Gross.”
Vince eventually held the sopping thing away from his body with two fingers, while he waggled his tongue around in his mouth as if to rid the inside of whatever he might have inadvertently tasted.
“I’m going to need a really long shower, and a full tube of toothpaste,” he snorted.
Since the construction had begun on the second full bath in the house, Vince had been using her primary to shower, and the half bath to take care of all his other morning and evening ablutions.
But tonight…
Lace was getting ahead of herself.
“First,” she ordered, “you need to get into some dry clothes.”
Vince shook his head. “I’m plenty warm, considering it’s August, and I’m not interested in contaminating the stuff I had on for less than an hour, earlier.”
“So… You’re going to go home like that?” Lace squeaked, nearly swallowing her tongue at the vast expanse of skin on display.
“Nope. I’m losing the boxers and this gross thing.”
He eyed the towel as if it were a viper. “I’ll wrap up in a couple more towels I have in the truck so I don’t get my seats all scummy.”
Lace nodded, almost heading into a thought-spiral that had Vince stripping out of his boxers provocatively; bumping and grinding with his new, clean towels. But the reality, in this case, was going to be sooo much better than any fantasy, so Lace forced herself to stay in the moment.
“Okay, then,” she responded breathlessly, turning to keep up with Vince who had picked up the final ball-bucket and was already hoofing it back to the truck which was parked in the lot, five holes away.
“I’ll have someone drop this off here, tomorrow. I’m totally over this job,” he groused.
Eventually he noticed that Lace was having trouble matching his quick pace.
He apologized and slowed down. “Sorry. I’m just anxious to get clean,” he huffed.
“I completely understand,” she commiserated, not in the least bit upset. She’d been enjoying the view of his ripped back as she stayed a few paces behind. “I’m, uh, actually thinking about showering, too.”
He stopped, dead.
Lace ran ahead of him by a few steps and held out her filthy hands, pouting down at them as if to convince him it was a good idea for her to get clean, as well.
“See? I’m dirty, like you.”
Vince growled, and the front of his boxers began tenting.
He began walking again, but this time he looked flushed.
“Give me five minutes alone, first,” he gruffed over his shoulder as he passed by her. “I won’t feel comfortable touching you until I’m clean.”
“Five minutes,” she agreed breathlessly. “Then I’m coming in.”
“Not arguing with that,” he grated. “How big is your water tank?” he continued, clearly planning ahead.
“Big enough to last at least a half hour,” she told him raspingly, her skin prickling with goosebumps, knowing that very soon she’d be naked and wet with Vince.
“Then we’ll eventually have to move things to the bedroom,” he stated unequivocally.
Lace blinked at his broad shoulders as he marched his fine ass across the final green.
Since when did sex ever last longer than a half hour?
Like never?
Lace followed Vince closely while she thought on that.
Most of Lace’s encounters in the past hadn’t even topped ten minutes. For which she had to admit she was more often than not, thankful. Once you found you’d invited a dud between your sheets, things couldn’t wrap up fast enough.
Why did Lace already know that wouldn’t be the case with Vince?
Oh. Maybe because he kissed like a man possessed. Or maybe because the dry humping they’d done had been more titillating than any full-blown penetration she’d ever had in the past.
Nerves hit Lace again.
What if Vince found her lacking?
What if she didn’t measure up to his previous bed-partners?
What if—
“Did I lose you, Lace?” Vince’s voice snapped her back to reality as he regarded her with a quirk to his lips.
Shit.
“Huh?” she returned, hoping he’d repeat himself.
He grinned, knowingly. “I asked if you wanted to clean your hands off with some sanitizer.” He held out the bottle.
When had he opened to the door to his truck?
Crap. For that matter, when had they arrived back at his truck?
“Uh, sure.” She held out her palms for a squirt, rubbed them together, then tore paper off the roll he held out to dab off the rest of the dirt.
Vince had done the same, ditching the dirty paper into a trash bag in back, then losing the wet towel he’d soaked through, also tossing it into the bed of his vehicle. He pointed to a container inside, near the tailgate, that Lace knew held more towels.
“Since I’m still mostly crappy, and your hands are clean, can you grab a couple of those? You can hold them up for me so I can strip out of my boxers.”
Lace’s cheeks grew red, thinking of Vince peeling the wet cloth from his muscled thighs, tugging it down his lightly furred legs, then kicking it away.
Uh, hell yes.
Lace walked to the rear of the truck and went up on her tiptoes, but was unable to reach her objective. Huffing, she climbed onto the back bumper, leaned over, and was able to just get her hands on the plastic lid. She lifted it up and took out two towels.
“Will this do?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat as she got down, imagining what she was about to see.
Vince nodded. “Definitely. One to wrap around my hips, the other to lay across the seat.”
“Got it.” She tossed the first over her shoulder, and unfolded the second, hesitating with it to see just how he wanted to accomplish his move.
Vince chuckled, a twinkle appearing in his eyes to show how much he was starting to enjoy himself.
“I’m going to lean up against the truck so my ass isn’t hanging out for anyone walking by to see, then you’re going to hold the towel in front of me. After I shed my boxers, I’ll walk forward so I’m covered.”
“Okay.” Lace’s mouth had gone dry.
He hadn’t said anything about hiding his assets from her.
Vince positioned himself as he’d described, and Lace held up the towel.
Looking her straight in the face, he grinned and brazenly shucked off his one and only piece of clothing.
Lace couldn’t help it. Her gaze moved downward, and…
Holy hell.
The man was hard. And built. With his impressive staff jutting out proudly in front of his flat stomach.
“I think it likes you,” he bit out, his amusement tinged with a bit of…lust?
But he didn’t move. He let her look her fill.
“I think I like it,” she responded, licking her lips.
In response, the member under scrutiny bobbed up and down, and a small droplet of excitement leaked out.
Lace’s mouth watered. She wanted to taste him so badly.
She must have started to drop to her knees, because Vince stopped her with a harsh intake of breath.
‘Uh, uh. Grossness,” he reminded her, hissing as she licked her lips. “But if you’re game, later, you can take care of that.”
Do birds fly?
Vince walked forward into the towel, barely able to contain his cock as it brushed up against Lace through the thin material which, besides her clothes, was the only thing separating them.
“Hurry,” she told him, pressing her pelvis forward.
Was that her voice? All dark and needy?
“You got it,” Vince agreed, sounding the same.
They both practically ran to their respective vehicle doors, slamming each to sit inside, breathing hard.
“We could have been in bed already,” Vince groused as he started the truck. “Did I mention I’m going to kill my brothers?” he growled, pulling out onto the street.
“Don’t do it on my account,” Lace countered, all zapping nerve-ends as they neared the denoument of the day. “The show you just put on…all of it, from diving to….” She pointed at his monolithical towel. “…your sexy reveal? That was the best foreplay I’ve ever had.”
Vince raised a brow and moaned. “Geeze, Lace. You’re making this too easy. Clearly, you’ve been with the wrong men.” He turned to her with promise in his eyes. “Do you know what this means?”
“No. What?” she bit.
“That I guarantee our actual foreplay is going to be better than any sex you’ve ever had.”
Yes. Please.