Page 223 of Rush

“Breaking and entering. Stalking. Obsession.” He stretches. “You definitely missed me.”

“I know your code. Technically, that makes this extremely consensual trespassing.”

He still doesn’t let up. Just stares at me with that open, raw look—inviting something deeper, begging me to say it. But I don’t want to. Admitting that I missed him means admitting that perhaps there’s more here—and we’re already dancing, painfully fucking close to that line.

I pivot.

Point toward the rooftop patio. “Do you ever use the hot tub?”

He exhales through his nose. “Nice dodge.”

I shrug, fingers slipping along the edge of his waistband. “Take me in there, and maybe I’ll give you the answer.”

He raises a brow. “A confession?”

“A moan,” I say, tilting my head.

He groans and stands, tugging me up with him. “Hot tub it is.”

The second he opens the rooftop door, cold air slices through us—sharp and biting against damp skin. I shiver instantly, already regretting the decision. He’s shirtless. I’m wearing nothing but another stolen shirt from his closet.

“You first,” he teases, already shivering.

“Together on one,” I shoot back, the chill tightening my nipples beneath the thin cotton.

He nods. “Okay.”

“Three...two...one.”

I dash across the freezing stone, feet numb, wind whipping through my damp hair. I yank off the shirt mid-run, then lower myself into the water with a gasp.

Heat blooms across my skin. I moan, letting it spread through me.

I look up.

He’s still inside. Watching.

That scoundrel.

“Are you serious?” I yell, dipping until the water is up to my collarbone.

He chuckles, finally sauntering out. “Damn, sweetheart. That was quite the show.”

It hits me—I’m completely naked.

“You ass.”

He grins.

I stare up at him from the tub, caught somewhere between flustered and aroused. God, I don’t think I’ll ever get over seeing his body all carved muscle and mischief, abs tight, chest broad. His cock’s already hardening, totally unfazed by the cold.

My mouth goes dry.

He steps over the edge and sinks into the water slowly, goosebumps chasing across his skin before the heat swallows him whole.

He moans too as the heat of the water works its way into every sore, spent muscle.

We sit in silence across from each other, the jets buzzing softly beneath us. Steam curls around our shoulders, mist rising in lazy swirls. His hand slips under the surface and finds mine. Our fingers lace together.