by Marie Carnay
The orgasms didn’t hurt, either. Chelsea blushed just thinking about it. Beckett’s hands and lips. The heat of his body pressed close. She’d dropped a million hints about going back to shore and finding a bedroom, but he ignored them all.
What kind of man was so selfless? Beckett was full of as many surprises as his brother was full of mystery.
Chelsea hadn’t seen a stitch of Bronx since he’d kissed her and walked away. She ran her fingers over her lips. Was it wrong that part of her still wanted him after all she’d shared with Beckett? Probably.
But something about the pair of them… Chelsea shook her head and picked up the beach towel sitting on her guest chair. She was being ridiculous. An afternoon at the pool would clear her head and remind her it was just a vacation. A time to relax, not lust after the Kingston brothers.
That morning, she’d given herself an impromptu tour, peeking into open doorways and wandering down halls. She’d even caught a glimpse of a bright red bird perched among the fronds outside the front door. But when Chelsea had stumbled onto the pool, she knew exactly where she wanted to spend the day.
With an infinity edge that disappeared into the ocean and lounge chairs set up beneath a cabana, it was everything you wanted in a vacation. Times a million.
Chelsea padded barefoot down the hall, the tile cool on her toes, before descending the stairs. The breeze hit her face as she walked through the archway and the smell of the water mixed with blooming hibiscus made her smile.
“You’re taking to island life already.”
She stuttered to a stop. Bronx floated in the water, his arms outstretched near the disappearing ledge. If she didn’t know the pool ended, she’d have sworn he was floating in mid-air.
“I didn’t mean to bother you. I can come back later.”
He flipped over and swam forward, the muscles of his back rippling with each stroke. He stopped a few feet away. “Nonsense. The water is perfect. Join me.”
She glanced down at her cover-up. Of all the days to pick the skimpiest bikini she owned. Although great for getting a tan without all those pesky lines, it didn’t do a damn thing for modesty.
“Something the matter?”
“No.”
She wasn’t embarrassed about her figure. Strong legs and a round backside meant she could hike heavy boxes up the stairs to her apartment and hustle to catch the subway as the doors started to close.
Besides, wine and ice cream were too good of a combination to pass up. But Bronx didn’t care about any of that. She tried to brush it off. “Just remembering I forgot my sunscreen.”
“I can pull the shade.”
The what? Chelsea glanced around. They were outside under the bright tropical sun. How would he…
Before she could ask, Bronx swam to the side and hopped out of the pool, beads of water running down his back as he vaulted to his feet.
Damn. Thick shoulders, tree trunks for legs. The man hid more than just attitude beneath his suits. He stalked over to a column on the pergola and pushed a button. The front of the roof line tipped, a hidden awning emerged, and Chelsea’s jaw hit the floor.
In a matter of seconds, poles rose out of the ground, the shade stretched to meet them and the sun disappeared. She’d never seen anything like it.
“That’s incredible.”
Bronx shrugged. “It gets hot here. Without it, swimming would be impossible.”
Wow. Chelsea had managed plenty of events for the rich and famous in New York, but this place was something else. “Whoever owns this place has to be worth billions, right?”
“You think so?”
She nodded. “The pool, the grounds, the whole island. I mean, who owns an island?”
Bronx leaned against the pillar, a smile tipping up his lips. She’d been so busy watching the magic shade, she’d forgotten he was still standing there wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts. His smile reminded her.
Where Beckett was wiry and ripped, Bronx was thick and solid. Muscles galore, but not the scrappy sort. More the throw you over my shoulder and take you back to my lair sort. Mmm. Just as appealing.
How did he find shirts that fit? Have them custom-made? If he could afford a two million dollar donation to a cancer fund, he could have a tailor flown in from Italy whenever the whim struck him. He flexed and she glanced up at his face.
Whoops. Being caught staring should be embarrassing as all hell, but with Bronx… it kind of turned her on. “You don’t think owning an island is extravagant?”
“Maybe a little. But plenty of celebrities have them. There’s a ton of little islands all around here. Some have been in the same families for generations.”
“Really?” Chelsea glanced up at the building. “Do you know the history on this place?”
Bronx didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed off the pillar and held out his hand. “Come on, the water’s perfect. I thought you came here to swim.”
BRONX
She hesitated again. What was it that had her questioning the pool?
The minute Chelsea walked around the corner, Bronx knew his promises to himself were about to be broken. Avoiding her had worked for the past few days. If he didn’t see her, he forgot what one sway of her hips or one amusing comment did to him.
But in the flesh? With her cheeks flushed from the heat and her long hair pulled back off her face in a messy bun? God. Part of him wanted to drag her over to a lounge chair and ravage her all afternoon.
Beckett didn’t have a claim on her, not really. So he’d seen her first. It wasn’t like they’d even gone out on a date. Every time he pressed his brother on it, the jerk clammed up. Said he could go after her all he wanted.
Bronx motioned to the pool. “It doesn’t bite.”
At last, Chelsea’s shoulders slumped. “Fine. But I just want you to know, I didn’t think anyone would be here.”
“O…kay.”
“So don’t get the wrong idea.”
Now he was curious. Bronx stepped back as Chelsea dropped her towel and kicked off her flip flops. She grabbed the lightweight little dress she wore by the hem and tugged.
Higher and higher it inched, exposing more of her hips by the second, up and up until a scrap of hot pink appeared in the V between her legs. A tiny tie held it on and as the dress rose even higher, Bronx tensed.
Acres of skin. Miles of exposed, sexy curves. The dress popped over her head and Bronx got a full-frontal view of the best pair of tits this side of the Atlantic. Chelsea Miller was a damn goddess. One he wanted to worship all afternoon long.
“Like I said, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”
Bronx tore his gaze away from her cleavage and ran his hand down his face. “So you didn’t intend to torture me, that’s what you’re saying?”
Her lips fell open but no words came out.
“Come on, the water’s perfect.” Bronx turned and dove in the pool without another word. He needed the cool water between them.
With a kick and a stroke, he darted to the other end of the pool. It had always been a highlight of the place. Cool, clear water, edge that disappeared into the horizon, view of the open sea. He could forget about the life waiting for him back home and just live in the moment.
Bronx surfaced and sloughed the water off his face. While he’d been swimming, Chelsea had slipped into the pool. Before he knew it, they were swimming around each other and laughing like kids.
He hadn’t had so much fun in years. New York was so fast and always on the move. No time to stop and rest and laugh at nothing. Was it Sarabelle bringing it out of him or Chelsea?
Bronx knew the answer without hesitation. The woman kicking a wave of water across his chest had caught his eye from the first moment he’d seen her at the auction, Beckett be damned. She was the reason he’d forgotten about deals, investments, and portfolios.
Chelsea made him remember all the good in the world and he barely knew her. He would change that. One month at Sarabelle and they wouldn’t be s
trangers anymore. He swam to where she rested on the edge of the pool. “Tell me about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
She smiled. “I’ll warn you, I’m not that interesting.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
By the time the afternoon sun faded into the water line, Bronx had learned so much about her. From growing up in Ohio, to spending her summers learning how to swim at a summer camp in the country. From being the only child of two career-driven bureaucrats, to moving to New York and trying to make it on her own.
Chelsea wasn’t just a sexy body and a smart businesswoman. She was strong and capable, open and honest. More woman than Bronx deserved.
She swam a few feet out into the pool and paused, treading water as she stared at the setting sun.
“It’s almost too beautiful here.”
He nodded. “Makes it hard to think about going home, doesn’t it?”
“Yep.”
It was one of the main reasons Bronx stayed away. Every time he came to Sarabelle, all he could think about were the hassles he’d left behind.
“I love the city, but this place… It makes me rethink my priorities.”
Bronx swam a bit closer. The sunset brought out the hint of blue in her dark eyes. “How so?”
Chelsea spun around in the water. “My job. Tiny apartment. All the pressure. It’s not what I set out to do with my life.”
“What is?”
The water rippled. “You’ll think it’s silly.” She pushed back in the water and swam toward the infinity edge. “I know how the real world works. Apartments and cars and clothes all take money. That’s why I have the job I do.”
Bronx closed the gap between them. “But it’s not what you want.”
“No.” She turned toward the ocean and propped her forearms on the ledge. “If I could do anything, I’d be a sculptor. It was my major in college. I only minored in business.”
Chelsea was a strange mix of Bronx and Beckett. She knew business made the world go round, but her heart wasn’t in it. He hated to think she just went through the motions in life, never doing what she wanted.
He came up next to her. “So why not try it? It’s not like you’re too old to switch careers.”
She nudged him in the arm. “I’ll have you know I’m a ripe old twenty-six. I’m not about to drop everything to buy a pottery wheel and sell glazed pots on the street corner. Pottery won’t exactly pay the rent in New York.”
“If you wanted to pursue it, I could help. Loan you some seed money to get the business off the ground.”
“I don’t need your charity, Bronx. This vacation is more than enough.”
He held up his hands and bobbed in the water. “No one said anything about charity.”
Her lips thinned into a line and Bronx fought the urge to kiss the frown away. “I can manage just fine. I don’t need a man to take care of me.”
“Believe me, I’m well aware of that.”
The spray of water hit his face and Bronx coughed. “What was that for?”
Chelsea laughed. “You were pouting.”
“Was not.” He shoved his hands across the surface and a splash crested over her shoulders.
She splashed him back. “Was too. I don’t need a big, macho guy like you to swoop in and save me. You’re throwing a pity party.”
“So you think I’m macho?” He lunged forward in the water and wrapped his arm around her waist before spinning her around. “Is that a compliment?”
Her breasts mashed into his chest and her breath caught as she stared at him. “Definitely.”
Bronx stared at her lips. Pink and lush and covered in water droplets, they begged him for a kiss. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why not?”
“Aren’t you and Beckett…” He left the rest unsaid. Somehow admitting it made it worse.
“I make my own decisions, remember?”
“What are you saying?”
Water dripped off her lashes as she leaned closer. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Chapter Thirteen
CHELSEA
The second Bronx’s lips hit hers, Chelsea forgot her concerns. Was it the skimpy swimsuit? Beckett? The sun?
Suddenly none of it mattered. Not when his hands snaked around her waist and he pinned her to the infinity edge of the pool.
It had been so long since any man worth a damn had paid her attention. Bill the accountant didn’t count. If guys she met weren’t out looking for wife number three, they were just out for a good time.
Back home she hadn’t had time to so much as get to know a man, let alone have one seduce her all afternoon in a swimming pool.
Bronx pushed her legs apart with his body, crushing her back against the side of the pool and sending water sloshing over into the catch basin below. How had she lived her whole life without a man like this?
Between Bronx and Beckett, the Kingston brothers were more fantasy than the island getaway she’d been whisked off to. With a groan, Chelsea wrapped her legs around his waist. No sense denying it; the man had her twisted up already.
His lips melted into her neck, hot and wet and driving her wild. All that separated them was a few scraps of fabric and the lack of a bed. Not that she hadn’t dreamt about a few trysts in the pool, but…
Before she could talk herself out of it, Chelsea slipped her hand between their bodies. Her fingers grazed his shaft and Bronx let out a groan of his own. “Too much of that and I won’t be able to control myself.”
The words slipped out between fevered kisses down her neck and shoulder and Chelsea grinned. “That’s what I’m hoping for. Hop up on the edge of the pool.”
Bronx pulled back enough to flash her a frown, but Chelsea pushed him toward the edge. She knew exactly what she wanted and she would get it no matter what.
His arms flexed and his abs heaved as Bronx gripped the ledge and pulled his body out of the pool. Perfect. Chelsea swam up and grabbed his shorts by the waist. No time to waste. The band stretched and before Bronx could say a word, she’d tugged his shorts down and freed his cock.
Mmm. Thick and hard and so damn ready. It had been too long. Chelsea glanced up at his face as she licked a trail up the underside of his shaft. Bronx’s knuckles turned white where he gripped the pool’s edge.
Enough with letting a man direct things. She’d let Beckett take charge twice and she never even got his clothes off. This time, it was her turn. Chelsea leaned closer and lapped at his velvet head before opening wide and sliding down his shaft.
Her pussy throbbed and she pulled back to run her tongue across her lips.
“Chelsea, you don’t have to—”
“Shush.” She looked up at Bronx as she ran her thumb over his tip, smearing the drop of fluid across his skin. “I know what I’m doing.”
With a grin, Chelsea leaned down, the water sloshing over her shoulders as she took him back inside her mouth.
“Fuck. Yes, you do.” Bronx wove his hands through her hair as his cock bumped against her throat. That’s it. She knew she’d surprised him by taking over after hesitating to even get in the pool.
But the longer the afternoon wore on, all she could hear was Liz’s voice in her head saying, “Take a chance for once in your life, Chelsea. Do something bold. I dare you.”
So she did. Every bob of her head drew groans and moans from deep in Bronx’s chest. He struggled to stay still on the edge of the pool, his thighs shaking on either side of her body as she floated in the water.
With one hand gripping the band of his shorts to hold them down, Chelsea used the other to stroke where her lips couldn’t reach. Her body undulated in the cool water, up and down in rhythm with her head.
The water sloshed over Bronx’s legs and her body and God help her, she was so turned on she didn’t know how long she could last herself. Again and again she sucked, grazing his shaft with her teeth, lapping at his head until he groaned. His body te
nsed and his fingers twisted in her hair.
Bronx held her head still as he thrust into her, sliding deeper down her throat with every pass. Oh, yes. Chelsea moaned around his shaft, and flattened her tongue, giving him access to every last inch of her.
Her body hummed and throbbed as Bronx came, shooting his release deep into her throat. She swallowed back the salty tang as he let her go and she pushed back to float in the water. Wow.
She sucked in a lungful of air as Bronx slipped into the water. He smothered her with a kiss, their legs and arms wrapping around each other as they sank below the surface.
The water washed over her head and Bronx’s hands slid under her arms, pushing her back up into the humid air. He kicked his legs, treading water as he held them both afloat. “You’re incredible.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it.” He kissed her again and spun them both around, before tugging her toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
Bronx turned to her and the fire simmering in his brown eyes promised so much more than a lazy evening in the pool. “I’m taking you to bed.”
Chelsea’s heart thudded so loud that Bronx had to hear it. He vaulted onto the stone beside the pool and held out his hand.
She clambered out, not half as graceful. The thought of running after him, dripping wet into a bedroom, gave her pause. It had all happened so fast. She slipped her hand out of his. “I’ll be right behind you, okay?”
He stared at her for a moment, head cocked to the side. “No cold feet, Chelsea. I’ll be waiting.”
She nodded and he strode away. Chelsea watched until he disappeared from view before sinking down onto a lounge chair. What am I doing? Caught up in the moment, it didn’t seem real. First Beckett, then Bronx. Both men kissing her senseless and turning off any inhibitions she thought she had.
But could she follow Bronx into his bed? After all that she’d shared with Beckett?
No. It didn’t matter that she wanted them both, liked them both, and could see herself falling for the pair of Kingston brothers at the same time.
