Page 54 of The Specialist

“You don’t want to go for a swim?”

I blinked. “A swim?”

“The water is beautiful.”

“And cold.”

“It’s summer.”

“Late summer. Almost fall.”

He grinned, a mischievous look in his eyes. “I would warm you up after.”

I began to back up. “Egan, no!”

He grabbed me, sweeping me into his arms. I squealed, then relaxed as he turned to head up to the cabin. He’d only been teasing. Then he turned and headed straight for the end of the dock. I let out a yell as we hit the water, the cold lake surrounding us. I came up gasping. Egan grinned at me, treading water, looking amused.

“See? Beautiful.”

“It’s freezing!”

He laughed and tugged me close. He wrapped his arm around me, holding me. I felt the heat of his body soak into mine, even in the cool water. “I’m all wet,” I complained as I wrapped my legs around him. The cold actually felt nice. The jolt had woken me up fully and felt good on my skin.

“I’ll warm you up and get you wetter,” he promised, kissing me again, all the gentleness and lazy strokes of his tongue from earlier gone. He devoured me, pressing me tight to his chest. He pulled back, breathing harshly. “Now I’ll take you upstairs and fuck you.”

I grinned. “Maybe you’re the one who’s fucked.”

He frowned, but before he could figure it out, I used his body as leverage and lifted myself up, grabbing his head and dunking him. Laughing, I swam away, hearing him come up sputtering and cursing.

“Now you’re in trouble,” he said, heading my way.

I loved to swim, and I was good at it. Very good.

“Bring it on, Vulpe,” I called over my shoulder, swimming faster.

“I’m bringing it, Sofia,” he warned. “Hard.”

“Promises, promises.”

Then he caught my foot and pulled me toward him. I got away, squealing like a teenager. He laughed and came after me. I went under and came around behind him, climbing on his back. He bucked me off and caught me before I broke the surface. We splashed, chased, and dunked each other, laughing and carefree. The sun was warm, the water cool, and the heat between us was blistering and constant. We kissed between battles, and Egan licked at the water on my neck, latching on to the juncture and biting down, making me groan. I cupped his balls and stroked him, feeling his need. He pulled off my shirt, sucking my erect nipple between his lips, the heat of his mouth burning. Piece by piece, our clothing ended up thrown to the dock or sinking in the lake. Egan maneuvered us to the steps, and I grasped at the railings as he lifted my legs to his waist. He thrust forward, the snap of his hips fast and hard. He was cold. I was hot. We both gasped for different reasons. He wrapped an arm around me, anchoring me to him, and gripped the wooden rail with his other hand. He began to move. Hard, short, wild thrusts. He devoured my mouth. He groaned low in his chest. Grunted. Breathed his oxygen into me and took mine. I began to shake, my orgasm coming quickly. He hissed his approval as I milked him, and he grabbed my ass, holding me close as he spasmed, the heat of his release filling me. He stilled, freeing my mouth and easing back. He pressed three kisses to my lips, his touch light and affectionate, then he dropped his head to my shoulder, a final long shudder of pleasure rippling down his spine.

“I think I lost my underwear,” I whispered into his ear.

“I think I lost the feeling in my ass.”

I grabbed at it, squeezing it firmly. “It’s still there.”

He lifted his hand from the water. “So’s your underwear.”

I began to laugh. He lifted his head, joining me, our amusement loud in the stillness surrounding us.

“I think we may have scared the fish.”

He grinned. “Then my job here is done.”

I shivered and he frowned. “Okay, playtime is over. Up to the cottage and we’ll dry off and have a nap.”

“Not sure I can move.”