Her arms had looped around my neck without either of us agreeing to it. Her hips nudged into mine, just for balance.
Just… for balance.
Except then she did it again.
And again.
It wasn’t on purpose. Not at first. It was water.
Motion.
Chemistry.
Right?
But then?—
“Oh, fuck,” I muttered, eyes slamming shut. Because there it was: that perfect,dangerousfriction. A sweet, aching drag through my wet swim shorts as she shifted against me again.
She froze.
I felt her go still in my arms, felt her register it — the same heat, the same throb, the samepossibility— and instead of pulling away, she pressed in.
Slow. Subtle. But unmistakable.
“What’s wrong, cowboy?”
A shiver ran down my spine. I buried my face against her shoulder, breath hot, everything in me wound tight and thrumming.
“This is a bad idea,” I whispered, and in return… she locked her legs around my hips.
My grip on her waist faltered, fingers curling like I couldstopher from doing it — but I didn’t stop her.
Couldn’t.
Not when her thighs gripped my waist, not when her hips rocked the barest inch forward and I felt everything. Felt her heat through her suit. Felt the ache behind my shorts swell into something goddamndangerous.
She didn’t mean to.
That’s what I told myself.
Except her lips were at my ear now, wet, heavy breath curling down my neck, and shewasn’tmoving away. Not at all. Her chestpressed to mine, flush and warm, and I could feel the beat of her heart thudding in time with mine. I could feel the drag of her breasts through the waterlogged fabric.
I was frozen, statuesque,stupid.I wanted to move, tofeelher skin beneath mine. But I didn’t want to risk losing this moment.
She pulled back just enough to look at me.
Just enough to shift again.
Slower this time.
More deliberate.
A roll of her hips, languid and teasing, like she was trying to play it off as nothing. Like we weren’t sliding together in the middle of a pool party, hidden only by the shadows at the edge of the water and the dull thump of a DJ remix no one was dancing to.
My jaw clenched.
“Juniper,” I said again, lower this time. A warning. A plea.
