By The Pool
Kelya
It’s upsetting that fucking Tony Racine is good at all things.
Sex. Guns. Sex with guns. Swimming. Napping.
He doesn’t know this, but I have snuck a cuddle into his warm, giant body…
twice now. I’m very grateful he’s a terrible dancer, then he’d be too good.
Too perfect. I’d start to doubt if he’s real.
What am I saying? He’s an asshole.
He tackled me, got me off with a gun, and then jacked off all over me. Sure, it was so hot that I think I met God, who was in fact a man. Though it makes sense, because no woman would run the world like this.
Then in the lobby earlier, without saying a word, Tony pulled me in close when I was feeling irrationally nervous around that guy.
All he did was have red hair and remind me of the guy who slipped something in my drink.
It was silly of me to even be nervous. I didn’t realize some people could read my emotions without me telling them.
I didn’t have to say a word, and Tony knew how I was feeling.
I sigh.
I’ve always wanted to learn to swim…
“I swam to a shark nesting ground once. I lied about knowing how to swim. The alpha guide realized I was a liar pretty quickly, so he adjusted. I was sort of just attached to him as he dragged me around.”
“That must have been cool, seeing the sharks,” Tony says, ignoring my bad habit of getting myself into dangerous situations.
“Yeah, it was very scary and amazing. Overwhelming.”
“Would it have been better if you could have swum by yourself?”
Ugh, he’s so annoying. I put my hands out, not unlike how he did on the dance floor. “Ok, fine. Teach me to swim, oh Great Alpha.”
He chuckles and dips into the water to fix his hair that was dripping into his face.
I can’t believe he’s forgiven me. I pressed that goddamned trigger, certain it was loaded.
I aimed wide, because I’m a coward, so there’s a high chance that if I knew about the whole “pulling the slide” thing, he would be fine.
I glance at Tortuga who’s watching us intently.
I could have played that in so many ways, but I don’t want to give up what I have here.
If they knew we fired that gun in the room, we’d be kicked out, and Tony would probably end this arrangement and take me back to Saint Kane now.
I need more time. Plus, I haven’t felt this good in a long time. I like his cypress scent all over me.
When he pops back up out of the water, I give myself the gift of enjoying his body.
God, he’s hot. Who gave such an asshole such a beautiful body?
Rounded, pillowy muscles that don’t appear too bulky, just shapely.
And I can’t see them now, but damn those thick, hairy thighs and strong calves.
I love when men have formidable legs. I look away after he shakes the water out of his eyes.
His glasses are on the table. I wonder how much he can see without them.
“Ok, let’s start first with the float.”
He wades closer to me, and I move away from him, keeping my distance.
“Do you know how a lifeguard can identify someone drowning in the water?”
“I don’t know. They’re crying for help?”
“Wrong.”
I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder to see his smile.
“Often it’s silent. Someone who doesn’t know how to swim is vertical.
Up and down. And they’re using their arms but not their legs, which actually just pushes you farther down into the water.
They don’t understand why it isn’t bringing them higher instead of deeper.
” He uses his hand to represent a drowning person, showing how the motion would drive someone down.
His words carry a strange second meaning. I know that feeling well, of being pulled deeper and deeper down, and the more I struggle the more I get sucked under.
“So, what can we learn?”
I take a deeply annoyed breath.
“Use your legs? And don’t be vertical.”
“Beautiful. That’s exactly right. So, let’s float.”
His praise warms me up in the cool water, like the eager omega I am.
He directs my body to lie back, wetting my hair for the first time in the saltwater pool, and I let him. His hands are so fucking big. My legs rise and my shoulders relax under his direction.
However, once I’m laying flat, my body does what it always does—it moves. I scratch an itch on my nose. I pull my knees up to ease a cramping muscle. I look from side to side to see if anyone has decided to join us. Every time I move, I sink.
“You have to be still.”
“I’m fucking still,” I grumble.
He sighs, and I glare at him. My hands move to adjust the straps on my swimsuit, and I sink again, this time getting salt water into my mouth. Frustrated, I stand back up.
“I see,” he says in an agonizingly belittling tone.
“What?”
I move to the side of the pool to get away from him.
“I see what your problem is.”
It was no accident how he worded that.
“My problem? What the fuck is your problem!”
“Kelya. Get over here.”
“I’m getting out.”
He throws his hands in the air, and I pull myself up to the edge.
He swims from one end of the pool to the other, ignoring me now. When he finally stops for a rest, I call out to him, “Fine, dickhead. What’s my problem?”
“You don’t know how to settle.”
I roll my eyes and fall back on my hands. Yeah, I know that.
I watch him swim laps, drink the water he brought, and use the sunscreen; meanwhile, I let the sun slowly dry me off.
Maybe if I could be still, I could learn to swim. He’s moving around a lot; how is that not a prerequisite for swimming?
I guess like he said, you have to know the right way to move. It can’t just be aimless or random. It can’t be unfocused. You’ll sink. I squint at the summer sunshine through the fringe of a nearby palm tree.
I could run. Right now. With his head in the water, I could slip away. Every time he pops up, he looks for me, but sometimes he goes a minute or two before looking. If I left right now, I’d get sixty seconds to bolt.
But I don’t. I hear him take in his full breaths and sink his bladed hands back into the crisp surface.
He pops up for a breath and stares at me, catching his breath.
“Cypress, if you really want to teach me to swim, I think you need to make me be still.”
He laughs, but I don’t change my serious tone.
“You should make me.”
He’s quiet for a long time, and I lift my head to find him staring at me. Quiet.
I raise an eyebrow.
He could use his alpha voice on me. Command me to be still. He could hold my wrists, forcing me into position. He could persuade me with threats and bargains…
“Not here.”
That’s all he says before he crawls back over the water, resuming his laps.
Not here.
Eventually Tony tires himself out and towels off near me, and my eyeline is right on his massive thighs.
“I’m hungry. Let’s get lunch,” I say.
“Yeah, might as well. Where should we go?” He tosses the towel on a nearby chair.
“Doesn’t matter, as long as you’re paying.” I go to stand up, and in a strange move, he grabs my hand and helps me to my feet.
“Well, my client is paying.” He lets go of my hand and shakes his wet hair with the same hand.
When it’s wet, it appears so much darker. Can’t wait for the sun to dry it so I can see those blonde streaks.
“In that case, where is the most expensive restaurant around here?”
He shakes his head at me, smiling, getting me wet.
“God! What are you, a dog?”
He laughs and snaps his teeth at me.
Motherfucker.