by K. A. Linde
Before Adam.
Right. Why hadn’t he fucked her before leaving again? That would have helped. Then, she wouldn’t be so goddamn horny…and drunk. Had she mentioned that she was getting drunk?
No. No. No. Wait, this was probably a bad idea. She shouldn’t be this drunk and horny at once. She should probably tell Carl to turn the car around and find another club or better yet take her home so she can get herself off before Adam came home. That sounded appealing.
Damn Adam. Since when had she turned into this person? Her drunken mind laughed at her. She had done it as soon as she and Adam had started dating, and it hadn’t even been difficult. She had just stopped bringing people home. Her doorman, Bernard, was the only other person who seemed to appreciate the change.
Fortifying her demeanor, Chyna pushed back her drunken thoughts. This was her boyfriend’s brother. He was only here for the rest of the weekend, and then it was back to business as usual. Anyway, how big of a douche did you have to be to go for his brother’s girlfriend?
Carl dropped her off on the sidewalk in the brisk March evening. Trying to keep the cold from sinking into her bones, she jogged into the building, pulling her coat tightly around her shoulders. She walked quickly to the attendant.
“Hi. Excuse me,” Chyna said, reaching the desk and rubbing her hands together.
“May I help you?” the man asked, doing his best not to check her out as she unbelted her jacket.
“I’m here for John Ward.”
“Ah, yes, he just called down. I’ll buzz you all the way up,” he said with smile as he gestured toward the elevator to his right.
“Thank you,” Chyna said, heading to the elevator.
She pressed the up button and entered the elevator when it opened. The top button was lit up when the doors closed behind her, but it didn’t have a number on it like the other ones. It just had a tiny scanner next to the button. Strange.
She didn’t have to wait long to be let out as the elevator traveled at great speeds. It spit her out on a small empty hallway with only one door. She glanced around to see if this could possibly be the right place. She figured she was only left with one option and walked to the end of the hall. Another small scanner was placed on the door next to the handle. She scrunched up her features to examine it, and as she got closer, she realized the door was propped open.
“Oh,” she said surprised. Why would he leave his apartment door open?
She felt a little weird just walking in, but he had obviously left it open for a reason, and likely, that scanner function meant no one else could get inside. She shrugged, her confidence returning, and she pushed open the door.
What she found was not what she was expecting. Her green eyes scanned the massive glass-domed room with an impeccable three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of the New York City skyline. An Olympic-sized swimming pool covered the majority of the open space in the room. Two enormous hot tubs and a kiddie wading pool rested on both ends of the massive pool. The pool itself had waves breaking in a clear V across the surface.
Chyna’s eyes followed the form of the man doing a perfect butterfly from one end to the other. He cut across the water cleaner than a shark fin and as fast as a dolphin. The water barely broke around him before he dove back under, his muscled shoulders pulling him effortlessly across the surface. Well, at least that explained the shoulders.
John reached the end of the pool, grasped the concrete end, and lifted his head out of the water. He took a few deep breaths as the water dripped down his soaking wet body. All Chyna could do was stare. It was like catching someone showering or jacking off. It was totally private, but somehow, it was kind of like they wanted you to see it.
She wasn’t even nervous or anxious about the possibility of him catching her staring. She was just hot…and completely bothered in all the right ways. What the fuck were those tattoos exactly? From where she was standing at the moment, she could still only make out the two she saw at the basketball courts, but she was still too far away to read what they said.
John planted both hands down on the concrete ledge and gracefully lifted his body out of the water. Her eyebrows rose as she watched his back muscles ripple from the exertion, and then she noticed his tight ass was covered by smooth black swim shorts. Turn around. Turn around. Turn around! She wanted to know what those shorts looked like from the front.
Her heel shifted on the squishy mat she was standing on, and it made some atrocious sound that broke the silence. John’s head swiveled around quickly, noticing her standing there, but he didn’t turn his whole body to her.
“Chyna,” he said, “you got here fast. I thought I’d be done before then.”
Uh huh. She was glad he wasn’t. How else was she going to get to see him this naked? Also, tattoos! She could not get over those damn tattoos. What did they say? Her tongue was ready to find out.
“I must have misjudged the time.”
Uh huh.
“It’s alright,” she managed to get out. “I don’t really have anywhere to be.” Had she just said that? Yep. Why yes she had. And by. By the confident look on his face, he had been expecting it. Ass.
Just the way she liked them.
“You don’t mind if I do a few more laps then, do you?” he asked with that same smile.
Oh, he was milking it.
“Of course not,” she said. A few more laps on her. “I was just going to find another lame bar. My best friend is at the beach for the week and left me alone in this frigid weather. No one else is going out for another hour or two from what I’ve heard.”
“Going out alone then?” he questioned, turning back toward the pool as if he was going to dive into its depths.
“Occupational hazard.”
He chuckled as his hazel eyes found hers across the room. “Hard life.”
“You’ve no idea,” she said slowly, walking her heeled feet across the slightly slippery surface.
“You should take those off,” he said, gesturing to her heels. “Don’t want you breaking your ankle on my watch.”
Chyna debated in her tipsy state. She was an expert at walking in heels. But, on a wet surface with her balance already a little thrown? Yeah, not a good idea. She slowly slipped out of one shoe and then the other, leaving them next to the door, before padding over to the side of the pool in her party dress and jacket. He straightened as she approached, and she tried to keep her mouth from hitting the floor. Hello,front of bathing suit! She preferred her men well endowed, and—damn!—just from a glance she knew that he wouldn’t disappoint.
Trying to get her mind off of the present wrapped in shiny black polyester, her eyes landed on his ribcage. She was close enough now to read his tattoos and figured that was better than staring at his crotch.
“There are extra suits in the changing room,” John told her.
“What?” she asked, glancing up into his eyes. Had he said something? She was trying to decipher a tattoo. Stop moving!
“Bathing suits. If you wanted to get in the pool,” he offered.
“You want me to wear someone else’s bathing suit?” she asked, crinkling her nose.
“They’re clean,” he reassured her. “They just have them for residents. I doubt they’ve ever been used. If I’m going to keep doing laps, then you should get in the pool or at least the hot tub.”
Her eyes darted to the hot tub and back. Valid, valid point.
“Alright,” she agreed.
When she reluctantly turned her back on John, she heard him chuckle faintly before he dove seamlessly into the water.
John was right. There was a collection of bathing suit pieces in a drawer in the dressing room. More than three-quarters of them still had a price tag on them. The amount had been removed, but it appeared as if they wanted to let you know that they were new. That’s nice.
She slid her jacket off of her shoulders and placed it on a hook against the wall. Her dress followed as she pulled it over her head in one sweeping motion. She hu
ng it next to her jacket. Hooking her fingers into her underwear, she removed those next and then unclasped her bra. She tossed them into an empty wicker basket. Grabbing a hair tie out of her purse, she knotted her long black hair into a messy bun at the top of her head. The last thing she wanted to do was try to find a way to blow-dry her hair if it got wet. Finally, she slid into a simple black bikini, tying the ends on the triangle top and bottoms.
When she walked back out of the changing room, John was sitting on the edge of the pool, breathing heavier than he had before. Actually, she had seen him swimming way faster than she ever could, and she hadn’t even noticed his breathing. He must have been kicking his own ass in her short absence.
She didn’t make a sound as she approached him. His head was hanging forward, nearly between his knees, as his legs dangled over the edge of the pool into the water. She dipped her little toe into the water next to him and splashed some up into his lap. He jumped, kicking more water up. Chyna took a few skittish steps backward, not wanting to get her hair wet under any circumstances. When she saw he wasn’t going to reciprocate, she walked forward and sat on the ledge next to him.
The water was warm, warmer than she thought it would be. It wasn’t quite bath water, but it was refreshing and was probably cool against your skin after a good workout. She wondered how much he had to exercise in here to keep that body the way it was. A friend of hers was a swimmer and had always tried to convince her that it was the most amazing, impact-free exercise she would ever do. Chyna had gone once and decided to never go back because it had taken three showers to get the smell of chlorine off of her body.
“I love it up here,” he finally said, breaking the silence.
Chyna tried not to look at him. They were too close together, and the tequila was still too strong in her body. “I can see why. It’s peaceful. Is it always this quiet?”
“Unfortunately, no. Why do you think I’m up here so late at night? This place is swarming with children after school,” he groaned.
“Makes sense,” she said with a shrug, kicking her feet lightly in the water. “So…Global, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice gig. How did you say you knew about them?”
“Everyone knows about them,” she said, rolling her eyes.
He laughed, mirroring her feet in the water. “You mentioned that your mom worked for Corsa?”
“What do you know about Corsa?” Chyna asked, turning her face up to his.
He met her gaze. “Enough. What did your mom do for them?”
“She was a model. I mean, a supermodel,” she said, waving her hands in the air like it meant nothing.
“Wow. Impressive. I’ve never met a supermodel.”
Chyna smirked. “I find that hard to believe.”
“They don’t often venture to Flint, Michigan.”
“You never see them around Global?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Maybe. Not much time to pay attention,” he said casually. “So, is that what you want to do? I know you said you don’t base your life on your career, but do you want to model like your mom?”
Chyna wavered on the topic. She hated the idea of following in someone’s footsteps, but on the other hand, she really thought she would be good at it. “Yeah, I think I’d like to try it. Just need an in besides old Mommy Dearest. Kind of like to forge my own path, if you know what I mean.”
“Well, you should go for it. Really nothing holding you back,” he said, nudging her shoulder.
“Yeah, maybe I will,” she agreed, not convincing herself and probably not him either.
Silence ensued, and they were content in that moment to sit on the edge of the swimming pool, kicking their feet back and forth in time together. It was calm and peaceful.
The moment passed, and Chyna ventured forward with the conversation. “Have you always swam?”
“I got into it in high school. I always played ball, and my coach saw me swim during P.E., freshman year. He called me over and introduced me to the swim coach. She was the hottest teacher in school, so I agreed to be all but naked around her after school on a regular basis. I think that’s how she got so many talented athletes on the team. I ended up being pretty good, and I stuck it out all four years. Got more money in swimming scholarships than basketball or academics. It was an easy choice.”
“You’re such a dude,” Chyna said, giggling and making the mistake of looking up at him and his all but naked body. “So, did you hook up with your swim coach?”
“No way,” he said with a knowing smile. “She was married with two kids. Way out of my league.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He laughed, reaching down and splashing water on her lap. She squealed and shielded herself from his attack.
“You don’t even know me. Judgey, judgey!”
“I surrender,” she said, raising her hands over her head now that she was wet from the waist down. “Waving a white flag!”
“That’s better,” he said, eyeing her mischievously.
She brought her arms down slowly. “But, come on,” she said, inching away from him, “didn’t you want to?”
“Want to?” he asked as if that was a stupid question. “Of course, I wanted to…” He paused.
“And?” she prompted.
He laughed again. “And, when I went home on winter break sophomore year, she was divorced from her husband, so I did.”
Chyna cackled. She knew it! “Now, who’s judgey, huh? I pegged you spot on,” she said, punctuating her last three words with sharp pokes to his chest with her finger.
He reached out quicker than she had expected and snatched up her wrist, wrapping his long fingers all the way around it. He pulled her forward and threw part of her weight toward the water. She screamed, not having anticipated actually getting in the water, and reached out for him to save herself. Her hand came up and around his neck at the same time as he put his hand on her stomach, pressing her toward the swimming pool.
“Don’t you dare!” she screamed, feeling her body edging farther and farther off of the ledge toward the water.
“Oh, don’t dare me, babe,” he said, his hazel eyes narrowing with the promise of a challenge.
“I will kill you,” she said, making a real promise.
“You wouldn’t,” he said, gripping her wrist harder and tugging her just a little bit more into the pool.
“If my hair gets wet, you will feel lucky to be alive,” she said, clutching her hand around his neck for dear life.
No way was he going to do this. It would be a complete dick move, but she was already losing her balance. She wasn’t even sure how she was still out of the water. The only thing holding her up was her hand around his neck, one foot pressed into the edge of the pool, and his hand gripping her wrist.
“Okay,” he said with a smirk.
Just then, his foot came out of nowhere and knocked her leg away from the edge of the pool, and she fell feet first toward the water. She grappled for support, any kind of support, holding onto his neck for dear life. She managed to pull him into the water with her or maybe he did it of his own accord. She wasn’t sure.
Right before her feet hit the bottom, her head about to submerge, John jerked upward on the hand he was holding and grabbed her by the waist. He had effectively kept her hair from getting wet, but now, she found herself completely pressed against his chest. Holy shit that! That chest! He was totally ripped. Where do those muscles come from? She needed to check out more swimmers!
“You asshole!” she cried as he slowly eased her feet to the floor.
She stood on her tiptoes to keep her head above water and looked up at his laughing face. He is beautiful! His smile was all straight white teeth. He had little crinkle lines around his eyes and dimples at the corners of his mouth. She loved his mouth. It was the perfect shade of pink on a plump bottom lip and shapely upper lip. She was too drunk for this!
“I said I wouldn’t get your hair wet,” he said as he s
lowly released her.
She splashed water into his too cute face before reaching out for the ledge again.
“Hey, don’t be mad.” He reached out for her again, yanking her back into the pool as she tried to climb out.
“You threw me in the pool like a little kid!” she reminded him.
Her mind was on his hand that was gripping her waist, trying to keep her in the pool. Her body was betraying her, and she wished she hadn’t had that last martini…or the one before that…or the tequila shots. Because, damn, did that feel nice.
“You were acting like a little kid,” he said as she looked up into his chiseled face.
She bit on her bottom lip and tried not to let her features betray her as much as her body was. His gaze flickered to her lips and back to her eyes, and she knew that she wasn’t hiding anything.
Any other person. Any other situation.
Any other person. Any other situation.
But not this situation.
She covered her mouth with a pretend cough and broke out of his embrace. “I guess we both were,” she admitted. “I’m going to need to shower before we go out.”
He stifled a laugh. “Me, too.”
Her eyes darted to his quickly and saw his meaning. She probably should have blushed or giggled or something equally girly, but all she did was smile, a slow devious smile. Her eyes flickered down to the water and then back into his hungry hazel eyes. He was making this difficult.
“You should probably do that then. I need to get out of these wet clothes.”
“You should,” he said, clearing his throat as he watched her pull herself out of the water, “probably do that then.”
“Oh, I will,” she said, winking at him as she dripped across the concrete floor back to the changing area.
As soon as the door closed behind her, she leaned back against it and closed her eyes, breathing heavily. What the fuck was she doing?
CHAPTER 5
PRESENT
“This place is a dream,” Brigitte said, finishing her fourth flute of Champagne since Chyna had ventured into their midst.
