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“I’m sure,” she says and looks out at the woods surrounding us.

“No one can see us. You really think I’d ask you to come in here naked if someone could?” I ask. “I mean, me with my ‘jealousy’ issues and whatnot.”

“What if they come back?” she asks quietly, as if someone can hear her.

“They said an hour or two.”

“Yeah, but . . .”

“I thought you were learning to live a little?” I tease my beautiful girl.

“I am.”

“You’re sitting there pouting in a chair while I’m enjoying the view,” I point out.

“I’m not pouting,” she says, and pouts more.

I smirk at her, knowing it will irritate her further. “Okay,” I say, closing my eyes as she purses her lips. “I sure am lonely in here. I may have to take care of myself.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Déjà vu,” I remark, thinking about our experience at the stream for the second time today.

“I—”

“Just get in the damn water,” I say, without opening my eyes or changing my tone. I speak to her like it’s inevitable, because we both know it is.

“Fine, I am!” she says, trying to convince herself she’s exasperated and doesn’t really want this as much as she does.

That wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. When I open my eyes, I nearly choke. She’s lifting her shirt over her head, and of course she’s wearing that damn red bra.

“Take the bra off,” I say.

She looks around again, and I shake my head. The only thing she can see from this balcony is the water and trees.

“Take it off, baby,” I coax, and she nods, sliding the straps down her arms.

I’ll never get enough of her. No matter how many times I touch her, fuck her, kiss her, hold her . . . it will never be enough, I’ll always want more. It’s not even about the sex, which we have often; it’s that I’m the only one who’s ever been with her, and she trusts me enough to get naked on a fucking balcony.

So why then am I such a fuckup? I don’t want to fuck this up with this girl.

Her jeans join her T-shirt and bra on the chair—folded perfectly, of course.

“Panties, too,” I remind her.

“No, yours are on,” she fires back and steps into the water. “Ouch!” she squeaks, pulling her foot back before easing in. Once she’s all the way in, she sighs, her body having gotten used to the water.

“Come here.” I reach for her and pull her onto my lap.

I suppose the uncomfortable plastic seats can be useful after all. The way her body feels against me, in combination with the pulsing jets, makes me want to rip those panties right off.

“It could be like this in Seattle, all the time,” she says, and her arms wrap around my neck.

“Like what?” The last thing I want to do is talk about fucking Seattle. If I could find a way to wipe that damn city off the map, I would.

“Like this.” She gestures between us. “Just us, no problems with your friends, like Molly, no bad history. Just you and me in a new city. We could start all over, Hardin, together.”

“It’s not that simple,” I tell her.

“Yes, it is; no more Zed.”

“I thought you were going to come in here and fuck me, not talk about Zed,” I tease, and she tenses.

“Sorry, I . . .”

“Calm down, I’m joking. Well, about the Zed thing.” I shift her body on mine so she’s straddling my lap, her bare chest flush against mine. “You’re everything to me; you know that, don’t you?” I repeat the question I’ve had to ask her so many times.

She doesn’t answer this time. Instead she rests her elbows on my shoulders, threads her fingers through my hair, and kisses me.

She’s hungry. Just like I knew she’d be.

Chapter twenty-five

HARDIN

I attempt to pull her nearly naked body even closer to me as she deepens the kiss. Her hands grip my arms, and I guide my hand down between her thighs.

No point in wasting any time here.

“Should have taken these off,” I tell her, tugging at the side of her thin, soaked panties.

She lets out a breathless laugh before sucking in a sharp breath when my fingers enter her. Her moans are cut off by my mouth against hers. She pulls my bottom lip between hers, and I nearly lose it. She’s so fucking sexy and seductive, and she doesn’t even fucking try.

When she begins to rock her hips, pushing herself onto my hand, I grip her waist, move her from my lap, and place her next to me, her legs spread wide, my fingers still pleasing her.

These fucking panties are getting on my nerves.

She startles, then pouts when I remove my fingers from her and hook them around her panties, tugging them down as quickly as possible and leaving her to kick them off the end of one foot into the water beside her. I watch for a second as the jets carry them to the other side of the tub; there’s something mesmerizing about seeing that final barrier float away so smoothly.

But quickly, Tessa grabs my wrist to force me to touch her again.

“What do you want?” I urge, wanting to hear the words from her.

“You.” She smiles sweetly, then spreads her legs further, showing how dirty she really is.

“Turn around, then,” I tell her.

Without giving her a chance to respond, I turn her body around, and she lets out a yelp. I panic for a moment, but then realize that her little pussy is directly lined up with the jets. Of course, she’s moaning. She’ll be fucking screaming in a minute.

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