Shirt—gone.
Pants—kicked somewhere behind me.
Boxers barely hanging on(like me).
I cannonball into the deep end, feeling the warm water surround me. I surface, slicking my hair back and immediately realize my mistake.
I’m half-naked in a pool with Ivy Ellison. The woman who hates me.My fucking co-worker.
Way to go, tiny dictator in my pants.You’re officially demoted. No perks, no raises, and a lifetime of blue balls.
She pops up. Water beads down her face. Goggles in her hair. Her chest rises once as she drags in a breath. Her eyes land on me like I just keyed her car.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Good morning to you too, Stopwatch.”
“This is my pool. Mine. Get out.”
I relax in the water and spread my arms. “Did you buy the Bellwether last night?”
Her eyes take a full inventory—boxers, bare chest, my hard cock bobbing with the water—then jerk sharply away, as if she’s been caught shoplifting.
“You ruined my lap count.”
“You’ll recover.”
“Why are you here, Hartwell?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
“Huh,” I say as the water laps softly around us. “Wonder what’s keeping us up?”
Her gaze sharpens. “Do you mind? This is my thinking time. Go disrupt someone else’s peace.”
“Multitask.” I grin, drifting closer.
“Or,” she says sweetly, “you could leave.”
She yanks her goggles down and launches off the wall.
I swim after her, water rushing past my ears. I catch her at the far end, surfacing half a second behind her.
“Don’t even start, Cole. There’s no way you can keep up.”
“Pssh. You’re not that fast. I’ll match any stroke you like. Any speed. Any position.”
My eyes lock on her lip, caught between her teeth.
Is she turned on?
Ivy lifts her chin defiantly. “I swam the two-hundred butterfly. All-State in high school. State record my junior year, which still stands, by the way.”
“That’s cute. Did your cat clap for you?”
“Oh, right. I must be a sad cat lady because I’m not mesmerized by your ego. Not every woman drops her panties for a great body and a personality defect.”
