Chapter 12
TWELVE
MAISY
Sterling is already outside in the hot tub by the time I step into the bathroom to change because it took me twenty minutes to find the bikini I was looking for. I stare down at the bold, red fabric that borders on indecent.
I know the idea of both of us half-naked, close enough to touch, is a bad idea. We barely have any self-control around each other, and so much could happen if we’re not careful. Going in the hot tub together is reckless. After all, I’m the one that decided to end things between us three years ago.
And still, I shimmy into the bikini, adjust the straps, and pull my robe over my shoulders, tying the belt tight around my waist before making my way outside.
The cold night air bites at my exposed ankles and face, stealing my breath.
Snow covers the ground in glittering sheets, and the hot tub sits in the corner of the deck.
Sterling is reclined against the side, one tanned arm draped over the edge.
His brown curls damp from the steam, and his broad shoulders gleaming.
He looks up at the sound of the door closing behind me, brown eyes locking on mine. They slowly move down to my robe, lingering a moment before rising back to my face with a look that makes my stomach flip. His silent way of telling me to take it off.
I slowly slip the robe off my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground in one swift movement.
The cool air rushes over me, turning my skin a subtle shade of pink within seconds, while a shiver skates down my spine.
The corner of his mouth ticks up, but I can see the way his throat works, the way his chest expands like he’s fighting for control.
I know that look better than anyone, and I know what I’m doing to him.
“Are you coming in or just planning to torture me?” he asks, his voice rough.
My lips curve. “Both.”
I cross the deck, making a point to sway my hips more noticeably, and dip one foot in the hot tub.
Sterling’s gaze doesn’t move as I lower myself beside him, water sloshing against my ribs.
His thigh brushes mine under the surface, and I press just a little closer.
I can feel the tension in his body, see the way he’s gripping the edge of the tub, and a small, wicked part of me wants to see how far I can push him.
“Maisy,” he warns, roughly, but there’s no real force behind it.
“Sterling,” I murmur back, tilting my head, and letting a teasing smile tug at my lips. My shoulder nudges his, and I watch him stiffen, jaw tight, and eyes darkening.
“Careful,” he says again, voice almost a growl, and I can’t hold back my grin.
I let my hands glide along the edge of the tub, slowly inching closer, lightly skimming my fingertips along his arm. I watch the subtle flex of his muscles, and the slight shift in his posture when our thighs press together again.
He’s trying so hard to resist, I can tell, but I can also see the need that he’s losing control over.
I dip my chest under the water for a moment, letting it ripple over my chest, then rise slowly, making sure he sees the water drip off my skin, the way my nipples pebble from the instant change in temperature.
“Maisy,” he says again, firmer this time.
“Hmm?” I hum innocently, tilting my head, but my pulse is racing.
I lower my hand under the water, resting casually on the seat edge, close enough to his thigh to make the contact feel electric, and I let it linger there. He exhales sharply, the sound half agony half turned on.
“You’re impossible,” he mutters, eyes on me, but I don’t look away.
“Am I?” I whisper, letting my voice drop low, with a teasing edge.
The way his jaw clenches is mesmerizing, and the slight dip of his chest as he swallows tells me he’s right there on the edge, every inch aware of me. And yet he doesn’t move closer, because he knows he shouldn’t.
I know the rules, too. We’re off-limits to each other now. We can be friends but nothing more. But friends don’t look at friends the way Sterling is looking at me right now. Friends don’t feel the things I feel when I’m around him.
My hand now trails a path up his leg and he catches my wrist lightly, just enough to stop my teasing, and I feel the electricity of his touch shoot straight through my arm. My heart starts to race, my chest tightens, my lips part slightly, and I know he feels it too.
“You know we can’t,” he murmurs, his lips grazing my wrist. “Your brother would kill us both.”
The heat of his breath, the way his lips brush my skin, makes me shiver despite the water and I bite back a whimper.
“Lucky for us, my brother isn’t here.” My gaze locks with his, defiant and desperate all at once.
“Mais…” he growls softly, pulling back just slightly, but the tension crackles between us like static electricity.
We stay like that for a long, torturous minute, before his mouth is on mine—desperate. He drags me closer, lips crushing mine, water splashing up the sides of the tub as my hand fists in his curls. He tastes like cider and heat and every memory I’ve been trying to bury.
Why did I ever let him go? The thought plays in my head on a loop.
I climb onto his lap before I can think twice. His hands grip my ass, pulling me flush against him, and there it is. His hard, thick cock pressed right against the thin barrier of my bikini. The contact makes me gasp into his mouth, my hips rocking without permission.
He groans, low and guttural, grinding up against me so hard I feel him everywhere.
My nipples ache under my bikini top, straining against the fabric, and he must feel it too because one of his hands slides up my back, fingers brushing the wet strap before palming my breast through the thin material.
I whimper, arching against him.
“Fuck, Maisy,” he breathes, kissing down my throat, sucking against my skin until I’m sure there’ll be marks tomorrow. “Did you wear this skimpy little bikini for me?”
“Yes,” I gasp out as his other hand slides over my hip, down to my thigh, pulling me harder against him while he groans appreciatively.
The water makes everything slicker, hotter, and when his thumb teases the edge of my bikini, skimming just beneath the thin fabric, I nearly come undone.
“Sterling…” My voice breaks, half a plea, half a warning.
His mouth finds mine again, bruising and hungry, his tongue sliding against mine as his thumb dips lower, brushing where I ache most. My hips buck, chasing it. Sterling’s fingers slide deep inside me, curling just right until I gasp and slap a hand over my mouth.
I can’t—God, I can’t let him hear how much I’ve wanted this. How much I ached for it.
His thumb presses against my clit, slow circles that make my thighs tremble under the water. My head tips back, eyes squeezed shut as if that will help me resist moaning.
“Let me see those beautiful eyes,” he murmurs, gently peeling my hand from my mouth.
I force my eyes open, meeting his deep browns, focused only on me. The intensity there steals the little breath I had left.
“That’s it,” he coaxes, moving his fingers in a rhythm that makes my body arch toward him despite myself. “Let go, Mais. I know you’re already so close.”
And he’s not wrong. Heat coils low in my core, building higher and higher, until I’m gripping his wrist under the water, not to stop him, but to anchor myself against the building storm inside me.
Every thrust of his fingers and flick of his thumb sends me reeling closer to the edge. My thighs clamp tight around his waist, my hips rolling helplessly against his hand. I bite down on a whimper, but it escapes anyway—desperate, breaking the quiet night.
Sterling groans under his breath like he feels it too. His forehead nearly touches mine, lips brushing the corner of my mouth as he growls, “Fuck, you’re about to come for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, shamelessly. My whole body is strung tight, seconds away from shattering.
And then he stops.
Just like that, the pressure vanishes. His fingers slip free, leaving me empty, trembling, and aching.
My whimper this time is broken, pleading, before I can swallow it down. “Sterling…”
He shakes his head, jaw clenched, eyes dark with want. “We can’t. I promised your brother I wouldn’t do this.”
I want to scream at him, scratch him, beg him—anything to take away the throbbing need he just left me with. But I just stare at him, chest heaving, lips parted, undone.
He leans close enough that his breath ghosts my ear. “But I want you to know that I want to. That I still want you, in any way I can have you. In any way you’ll let me.”
I whimper again, softer this time, and hate myself for how much he hears it. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the bubbling jets and our ragged breaths. Moments later, he climbs out of the hot tub, still rock hard, and walks back into the house, leaving me out in the tub alone.