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A low, rumbling growling sound reverberated through Mark's chest and into me, bringing with it another rush of desire. His teeth snagged my lower lip, pulling hard for a second before he released it, his lips moving downward over my throat. The pressure lessened as his arms unfolded me, moved to my sides then pressed upward over my belly, in the exact opposite direction of where I so desperately needed him.
His fingers snagged my towel pull. But before I could even process his intention, his hands went to the straps of my exercise bra, grabbing and yanking the wet material until I heard ripping as the too-tight material meant to keep women with large ta-tas from getting black eyes while jumping around was pulled downward further than it was intended to go.
Then there was a rush of air on my bare breasts as he exposed them completely, again making that growling noise that sent a shiver across my skin as he slowly started lowering down, his tongue tracing down the center of my chest slowly.
"Mark, we're..."
"Cameras don't cover this corner," he informed me, making genuine wonder break through the heady layer of desire blanketing me. How would he know such a thing? "And that door squeaks when you open it."
That was the last thing he said, the final piece of comfort he gave me the second before his mouth closed around my hardened nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth, making my entire body lurch at the unexpected contact. One of my hands slammed down on his shoulder, mostly to allow me to keep my own two feet; the other landed on the back of his neck, holding him to me, silently begging for more of the beautiful torment. Which he gladly gave me, working his tongue over the peak in torturously slow circles. Then, just as the exquisite pain of his teeth on the sensitive flesh started to explode through my system, over the sound of my thundering heartbeat, I somehow heard a squeak.
It literally happened in a blink.
One second he was biting my nipple.
The next, my bra was back in place, I was collapsed back against the wall, desperately holding onto my towel, and Mark was standing up straight, hands on his hips, looking into the pool.
"I don't know, Angela," he said, shaking his head. "It is the mystery of the sunken towel. I'll have to tell Shane..."
"Tell Shane what?" the voice asked from the direction of the door, drawing my attention to one of his brothers, the bigger one, standing there, brow raised, lips curved into a devilish little smirk. "That you really appreciate the camera blank spots?" he asked, making me painfully aware how guilty I likely looked right then in my sports bra and panties, dripping water everywhere, skin flushed, eyes heated.
"Yeah," Mark said, nodding at me. "I forgot to mention, this is my brother's gym."
Of course it was.
"And he also owns that apartment complex across from Third Street."
Yep.
So his family just owned everything I was associated with apparently.
"And since this fuck forgot his manners, I'll introduce myself. I'm Shane," Shane offered, not coming closer, but giving me a nod as I pulled my towel into place.
"S... Angela," I immediately tried to cover, eyes big, heart frantic. Jesus. I was losing my touch. What the hell was wrong with me? I never screwed up a cover. We paid small fortunes for them. It would be foolish to do that.
"Nice to meet you, S... Angela," he said, giving me a smile that said that he knew I was up to no good, but not calling me out on it. "I have a feeling I'll be seeing you again," he said as way of parting, giving his brother a look I was familiar with because my brothers and I had similar ones- unspoken communication you could only interpret if you had been fluent in it all your life.
As soon as the door was closed, I let out the breath I hadn't been aware I had been holding, feeling my lungs burn when I took a deep breath in again, leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, trying to get a handle on not only my wayward thoughts, but the constant throbbing need between my thighs. It was literally painful. I didn't know desire could hurt before. But it hurt to not get fulfillment right then.
But that being said, it wasn't going to go any further. We were in a freaking public place. We had almost been caught in the act.
I might have had a job that made me seem like a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but that really wasn't how I was wired.
"Sweetheart," Mark's voice said, closer though I hadn't heard him move toward me. That was one downfall to him not wearing those clomping boots of his. His tone was low, soft almost, and just the slightest bit pleading. "Scotti," he tried when I didn't open my eyes. I might have been fighting, and losing, an internal battle, but my pride wouldn't let me hide. My eyes fluttered open slowly, finding him watching me, no teasing there, no more of his jocular lightness. He was all seriousness right then. "How about we hit pause on your game and play mine for a while?"
