by Ember Leigh
She climbed off him, ready to suggest a massage where she wasn’t straddling him. “I’m going to massage you from the side.” This might alleviate his sudden attack of chasteness. “I mean, if you’re uncomfortable…”
He waited a moment, took another deep breath, and then turned onto his back. His eyes were pinched shit, looking particularly pained as he did so.
That’s when she noticed his boner.
His cock formed a thick ridge in his work pants, and he’d used the hesitation as a means to let it subside. She fought the urge to begin the massage there, palm the length of it, peel back those jeans, and get a load of the situation beneath. Garrett stared at the ceiling, expressionless.
“I’ll start with your arms.” She forced her voice to come out flat and professional. Besides, now was probably a bad time to hop on, since Wesley could come in at any moment, and he would definitely find something R-rated if she got on top of him now.
She massaged his biceps down to his forearm. He groaned once more, and the pinched look on his face gradually subsided.
His boner didn’t gradually subside though; she kept a firm eye on it, intensely curious about its exact dimensions and what, exactly, it tasted like. She’d seen it flaccid, which had been tempting enough. Up close and personal would be a whole different story. What about the state of his pubic hair? Did he trim, like Rose did? Maybe his dick listed to one side? And the head—bulbous? Purple? A swollen army helmet or a nightcap? God, she could almost knife somebody in order to find out.
It would be wrong of you to hop onto him at this point, she counseled herself, hands moving to his upper chest. God, the man’s pectorals…his abs…everything, he was on display like goddamn forbidden fruit, and she couldn’t do anything but gape in his wake.
The door opened, and Wesley entered. She turned to wave, conscious of the heat lingering in her cheeks from her dirty-minded massage. The corner of Wes’s mouth curved up as he beheld the scene.
“Night of relaxation, huh?”
“Shut up,” Garrett croaked. “This woman is a professional, and you don’t know what you’re missing.”
Wesley sat on the other bed and began tugging off his shoes. “Fine, fine. Just know, Rose, he faked his back pain so you’d touch him, I’m almost sure of it.”
She grinned at Wesley, then looked down at Garrett, feigning shock. “Garrett, if that’s the case, then I’m gonna have to stop right now…”
“Don’t listen to him. He’s jealous he didn’t choose laminate flooring today.” Garrett’s eyes drifted shut once more. Her massage patterns drifted toward his pectorals this time, and she loved the fact there was barely any meat for her to grab there. The man was pure sculpted flat muscle.
It became apparent Wesley wanted to wind down for the evening, so Rose chose to cut her massage a bit short—at only thirty minutes, according to the bedside clock.
She dragged her fingertips over his chest as she wrapped up the session, resisting the urge to seal the deal with a kiss.
“That…was…perfect.” He sat up on one arm, looking at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. She couldn’t ignore the tiny creases his belly made as he sat up.
“I’m glad you liked it. That’ll be a hundred dollars.”
“How bout I give you a massage in return sometime?”
“Deal.”
She headed toward the door, telling Wesley “good night” before she entered the hallway. Garrett stepped out in the hallway and shut the door behind him, still shirtless.
“I’m a ball of goo,” he said. “You did a good job.”
“Well, rest up, because we’re exercising later.”
“We are?”
“Yeah, duh.” She tapped the imaginary watch on her wrist. “The midnight pool exercises? Come on. Don’t play dumb. We’re in training, and lazy never wins.”
He laughed. “You really are ex-military.” Once he noticed the look on her face, he added, “Sorry, I mean…former-current-marines…oh, you know what I mean.”
She drifted closer to him, barely able to keep her head straight as his perfect upper body remained in her presence. “That, and well, maybe a girl wants to see your dives again.”
He smiled big, dimples flashing, knowing exactly what she hinted at. “Oh, all right. I see how it is. Why don’t we meet earlier? So we have more time for…training.”
“Ten thirty?”
“Ten thirty,” he confirmed. “And don’t be late.”
Chapter Eight
When Garrett showed up at the pool he got there early, wanting to be the one to surprise Rose. But in typical Rose fashion, she was two steps ahead of him.
The pool room blazed with lights and Rose lounged at the shallow end of the pool by the water jets, a grin so devilish he wasn’t sure if his appearance or maybe a secret water jet position prompted it. Arms draped along the edge of the pool, her breasts peeked out above water level, tight nipples staring back at him as he entered.
He cleared his throat and shuffled over to her side of the pool, smiling at her as his dick leapt to life. Play it really cool, Garrett.
But who was he kidding? The woman could have him in a puddle at her feet in mere seconds if she wanted. Her touch sent him into an adolescent hard-on frenzy that could scarcely be controlled as their massage session earlier proved.
“You’re early.” He dropped his towel on the chair near her towel.
“I’m always early.”
“You’re also very daring,” he said. “How did you know the other guys wouldn’t come in for a swim this early?”
“I noticed they have a particular poker habit. Besides, those guys don’t look like the types who dip in for a swim.”
He grinned, slipping off his sandals and letting the towel slide away. The woman had a point. Her logical guesses and straightforward approach to life made Garrett think she’d be better suited for the CIA than the medical office. But hey, who was he to say? Her skills were numerous enough they could be used everywhere—from the OB-GYN office all the way to being a spy. She appraised his swimming trunks and lifted an eyebrow.
“I didn’t realize this would be a nude swimming session again,” he said.
“And what bathing suit am I supposed to use?” She nodded toward him. “Better take ’em off.” Her tone didn’t leave any room for questions. Her take-charge nature thrilled him—something about the subtle shift of roles and responsibilities between them was more intoxicating and arousing than any other flirtation he’d entertained.
“Better?” He toed the trunks off to the side and walked to the water’s edge on the deep end of the pool, eyeing the right spot for a dive. She watched him as he did this, unmoving.
“Here’s dive number one for you.” He was pretty sure she wouldn’t look away unless in the event of an emergency, but he wanted to make sure all eyes were on him. “Get ready.”
At the pool’s edge, he bent his knees, launched himself into the air and then brought his knees to his chest. When he connected with the water, the splash reverberated around him, sending water in all directions.
“That’s called a Cannon Ball Dive.” He flipped water out of his face as he surfaced. Rose wiped water from her face, laughing.
“And here I thought you were about to impress the hell out of me.”
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of time left to impress you. You haven’t even seen the start of it.”
She lifted a brow and eased into the water. “Well, I’m curious to see what you could be referring to.”
His cheeks burned at the comment, and he ducked his head underwater. Pressure’s on, buddy. When he surfaced, she had moved closer, treading water with hair slicked back like a swimwear model, eyes smoldering.
Oh my God, you want this woman so bad. Just kiss her. Kiss her now.
But as Rose swam nearer, his resolve took an unexpected nosedive. Something about her made him question his own game. What would a woman like Rose even see in a guy like him? He had not
hing to offer her she herself didn’t already possess—the realization made his head spin and his dick swell bigger. He didn’t realize a woman with balls practically bigger than his own would be such a complex turn-on.
She eyed him as she swam near him but not any closer than an arm’s length away. His cock hardened into a full-blown erection, and hiding it was no longer an option. As the water sloshed around him, he wondered if she’d spotted it yet—after all, the pool was chlorinated, crystal clear, and the woman had hawk eyes. She’d like what he had to offer, too.
An idea occurred to him. “Do you know how to dive?”
She shook her head, never ripping her eyes from him.
“Want a quick lesson?”
She nodded.
“Come here, then.” He held out his arms, absolutely ready to put his hands all over her naked body for an impromptu diving lesson that would teach her nearly nothing.
Rose swam closer, hesitant. “But don’t we have to get out of the pool first?”
“Yes, but first there’s a very important step.” Fuck it. Time to go for the gold.
She swam up to him and touched the bottom, her breasts peeking out of the water as she faced him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, nearly dizzy from the heavy hand of lust. Her tight nipples grazed his chest as she stood before him.
“First step,” he said, droplets of water falling from his hair onto his arm, “is to loosen up.”
She cracked a grin, looking up at him with eyes that knew exactly what he was on to. “And how do you loosen up?”
He didn’t respond and instead pressed his mouth to hers, pleased her response was enthusiastic. Her mouth was warm and tasted like roses, something he thought was both silly and delightful.
A moan escaped, him and he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her tight against his body. She acquiesced into him, her body discreetly molding to his. Her fingers found the nape of his neck, and he shivered through an intense kiss.
“See? That loosened you right up.” His words came out half-whispered at her ear. His hard-on pressed hot against her hip; a rush of lust surged through him and he squeezed her hips, wanting to break skin.
Rose’s fingers tracked through his hair. She smiled up at him, her blue eyes as clear as ice. “I have to say, I’m more than ready for a diving lesson, but I’m not so sure I want one anymore.”
He lifted a brow. “But lazy never wins, Rose.”
She looked pleased by the jab and hooked her other arm around his neck. “I think there are certain things that can take precedence once in a while.”
They kissed again, deeply, igniting a heat inside Garrett’s chest that either had never been there, or had happened so long ago he’d forgotten all about it. At this point, even he couldn’t remember.
His hands wandered down the smooth arc of her waist, over top of her hips until he reached the sculpted mound of her ass. She moaned softly and pressed herself against him, his skin tingling at all the points where her skin touched his, an electric current zipping through his flesh.
“How is it,” Garrett murmured through their slow, loud kisses, “that you show up in Pennsylvania in the middle of a whiteout, and two days later we’re nude, swimming and making out?”
“Some things feel right.” Her breath came out husky and hot on his ear. “Doesn’t it feel right?” She hooked a leg around his hip and hoisted herself.
The air in his lungs disappeared, and he couldn’t rip his eyes away from hers as a million different exclamations clamored for space in his throat. She smiled sexily, and her fingers trailed down the length of the arm wrapped around her.
His cock strained hot between her legs, nudging for entrance on its own, like a renegade body limb that had decided to wake up and make its own decisions. He had a good idea of where this pool session would lead—straight to fucking, if it continued at this rate—but something in the back of his mind nagged at him.
The Garrett of his youth would have had this woman backed up against a wall thirty seconds ago, fucking her senseless. Maybe if she were a different woman, they’d be in that position now. But there was something about her. He’d known her two days and could count on two hands plus more all the fascinating things about her, and all the questions he had yet to ask. He didn’t want this to be only physical.
She must have sensed his hesitation. She trailed kisses along his jawline, the gentle rise and fall of her slippery chest brushing against his as she kissed him, encouraging him along.
She kissed his earlobe. “Do you have casual sex?” For as vague as she liked to be, the woman wasn’t afraid to be blunt.
“Sometimes…” His cock stirred at its mention. Nestled firmly between her thigh and his low belly, Garrett loved every hint of pressure and movement against his dick as she shifted against him. “Do you?”
“Not very often.”
He found this hard to believe. Probably her line to get uptight guys like Garrett off their chastity chairs. His hand smoothed over the curve of her ass, and his cock burned hot between his legs, practically could hear its desperate screams.
They kissed slow and sloppy again. Rose rested her forehead against his, and they breathed heavily for a moment, searching the other’s eyes.
“I’ve always wanted to have sex in a pool at ten thirty p.m. in Pennsylvania,” she said.
“That’s so odd. I’ve had the same dream too.”
He squeezed the flesh at her hips, sucking in air through his teeth. His cock hovered like a hunting dog waiting for the signal to devour the catch. The woman rocked him mindless with desire, and he couldn’t believe he’d be able to stand here with this goddess in his arms, her pussy hot and pulsing mere inches from his dick, and they weren’t fucking like animals yet.
He liked drawing out the pleasure. But for some reason, the thought that this might be the first and last time made him hesitant to do it at all. She might be easier to forget afterward…fewer things to remember fondly once she disappeared forever.
She suckled at his neck and then bit him, a warning sign, or perhaps the signal to start the race. He shivered, squeezing her ass cheeks again. He could be convinced. Maybe what Rose wanted was best for the both of them.
As she continued servicing his neck in what would surely result in hickeys the next day, someone approached the pool door from outside. He gasped and dropped deeper into the water, covering her upper body in the water as he waited to see if the shadow would enter the pool room.
“What is it?” She turned to look.
“Someone’s coming,” he said. “I saw the shadows.”
She squinted and watched. “Maybe they can join.”
“I’ll have to excuse myself from that trio if it’s my brother or any member of the crew,” Garrett said. “I hope you understand.”
The door swung open, and Wesley walked in. When his eyes landed on the couple in the pool, his jaw nearly clattered to the floor.
“Hey, Wes.” Garrett waved lamely. So did Rose.
“Wow…hey…uh, sorry guys. I …I was looking for Rose.” Wesley cleared his throat; Garrett knew the mere hint of Rose’s breast under the water had unnerved him. And probably because she was wrapped around him like a koala bear.
“I’m here. What’s up?” She sounded extra cheery, none of the sultry husk from before.
“I think Emmy is fussing,” he said. “I wasn’t sure what to do, maybe she was dreaming or something, but I heard her crying…”
“Oh, no.” Rose slapped her forehead. “I forgot the monitor in the room. Thanks for letting me know, Wes, I appreciate it.” She pulled away, and he noted with relief his cock had softened, finally. The thing had damned near bruised her thigh.
Wes shot Garrett a look that said what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-with-her and then left the pool room. Rose swam to the side of the pool and lifted herself out.
“I need to go check on Emmy,” she said, not looking at him, as though he would have had any doubt about this.
“I figu
red.” He pulled himself out of the pool, eyes on her as he walked toward his towel and the sweat pants he’d discarded in a heap. Things were suddenly very awkward. “Does she normally cry at night?”
She didn’t answer right away, just wrapped her towel around her body and kept her eyes fastened to the ground. “No, not usually. I hope she’s not getting sick.”
He picked up his swimming trunks and wrapped his towel around his waist. He caught her glancing between his legs before he closed the towel.
Silence settled between them. Garrett wanted to say something about the fact that only three minutes ago she’d been heaving in his arms, his penis touching her actual vulva, and maybe they could continue the activity elsewhere, but he didn’t know what words to use. He had no idea how to convey the thought in a way that didn’t make him sound like a complete douchebag.
Rose headed toward the door, and he followed, the silence still unbearable between them. He listened to their footsteps as though it were something that always occupied his full concentration.
The real face of the situation became apparent to him the second they’d left the pool. The truth rang between his ears louder than the silence. Rose had a baby who had needs, and Garrett was one clueless bachelor who couldn’t even pretend to babysit.
By all rights, a heaping mess of incompatibilities waiting to be the dagger in the heart.
As they walked in silence toward the rooms, the air was extra chilly on his skin. He watched as she walked, admiring the curve of her bare calf, caught a droplet of water running down her fair skin.
Aside from the fact that she was a mother, she was leaving.
Something Garrett had to remind himself of too much. What is your actual problem? They rounded a corner. He watched with interest as the tile floor ended and the strange purple and green psychedelic swirl of eons past began. Rose sighed as they neared their doors.
“I’m sorry if you…” The words made the leap from brain to mouth without his consent. He felt bad, worse than he imagined for pursuing a woman who was, by all rights, interested in him. Why the attack of conscience? Probably had something to do with the fact Garrett didn’t want to include sex in as many scenarios as he once did. And because this situation was doomed, inherently, to end, was a sign he had acted poorly in positioning his body parts so near to hers.
