“Just figured I’d make sure nobody else bothers you,” I rasped.
“You’rebothering me,” she said, leaning her head against her arms on the ledge.
I caged her in further, erasing the space between us. My body reacted instantly, a sharp, demanding ache that I didn’t even bother to hide. I couldn't help it. My body had a mind of its own when she was around, especially now, when she was barely covered by scraps of fabric and strings.
“Why aren’t you at the bonfire?” I asked, leaning into her personal space. I let my five o'clock shadow rub against the shell of her ear. I saw goosebumps erupt on her arms, and despite her anger, I felt her body push back against mine. Warmth flooded me. I felt like I was going to catch fire right there in the water.
“The water feels good on my leg,” she said softly.
“Is it hurting again?” The irritation in my chest was instantly replaced by a sharp, jagged concern.
“It’s just a dull ache now. I just can’t do the pain pills, Elliott. They make me too groggy. I’ve already missed most of the week.”
“Come sit with me by the fire. Or a cabana,” I suggested, my voice dropping an octave. “I’ll massage it. Would that help?”
She shrugged her shoulders, and I took the opportunity to sink my fingers into the muscles of her neck. She pushed her body harder into mine, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from groaning.
“Careful, Ness,” I warned, my hands moving to work the knots in her traps.
A small moan escaped her, muffled by her arms, and whatever fraying control I had left finally snapped. I was rock-hard, battling a sudden, primitive urge to just scoop her up and carry her away—to hide her from the world and never let her out of my sight again.
“Come on, Ness. Let’s go to a cabana. It’ll give us some privacy,” I murmured, my lips brushing her temple. “You can moan all you want there.”
She twisted her head back, shooting me daggers that could have drawn blood.
“I was joking,” I lied, though we both knew better. I tightened my hold on her waist under the water, pulling her flush against me. “But I’m not kidding about the rest. I don’t want anyone else watching you.”
When she finally turned around, the sight of her in that bikini nearly snapped the last thread of my sanity. Vanessa was drop-dead gorgeous—she always had been. Long limbs, sun-kissed skin, and curves that seemed designed specifically to ruin me. She wasn’t ashamed of them, either; that raw, unbought confidence was more intoxicating than any drink at the bar.
We moved toward the pool steps. Before she could climb out on that aching leg, I reached down, hooked one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, and lifted her. She didn’t object. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck, her wet skin slick against mine.
I found an open cabana, grabbed a towel on the way in, and pulled the cord to drop the privacy curtain. I sat on the cushioned bench with her still in my lap, her legs draped over mine.
I immediately got to work on her left leg. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, letting out a jagged moan as I kneaded the deep ache in her muscle. After a few minutes, she guided my hand higher, to the meat of her thigh. As she wriggled against the pressure, she shifted positions, straddling me with her left leg extended so I had better access.
She placed her hands on my chest, her breath hot against my skin. I kept rubbing her knee, reading her body language—learning when to dig deep and when to be soft. Somewhere along the line, her hips started moving against me. Whether her body knew what it was doing or not, the friction was a match to a fuse.
When her lips sucked softly at a spot on my neck, I burst into flames. My hands landed on the small of her back, sliding down to the curve of her ass. I pulled her closer, kneading her skin, andshe responded by grinding against me, a desperate, rhythmic friction that made my vision go dark at the edges.
“Ness, you’re killing me, baby,” I whispered against her hair.
“Let’s go back to my room,” I said, my voice thick and strained, as if I’d just run a marathon. Her hips were relentless against my groin, and I was seconds away from losing every ounce of restraint.
She froze.
The movement didn't just slow down; it stopped entirely. Vanessa pulled back, her eyes glassy and unfocused for a second before they sharpened into something cold—something terrified. She looked down at where my hands were gripped tight on her skin, then up at my face.
“Your room?” she whispered, the softness vanishing. “Right. Back to the room, where you can take care of me until you decide you’re bored again? Or until I’m not a ‘project’ anymore?”
“Ness, what are you talking about? That’s not what this is.” I tried to pull her back, but she scrambled off my lap, her movements clumsy as she struggled to find her footing on her weak leg.
“Isn’t it?” She grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself like armor. “This is what we do, Elliott. You get close when I’m broken, and then you remind me why I shouldn't have let you in the first place. You fired me, remember? You called my mother because you think I can't handle my own life.”
“I was trying to help you!” I stood up, the space in the cabana suddenly feeling way too small. “You were dying on a trail, Vanessa! I’m not allowed to care?”
“You don't get to care and be the villain at the same time!” she yelled, her voice cracking. The intimacy of the last ten minutes felt like a fever dream that had turned into a nightmare. “You can’t be the one who destroys my career and the one whorubs my leg. Pick a side, Elliott. Because I can’t keep doing this whiplash with you.”
“I’m on your side!” I roared, stepping toward her.
