Page 133 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

“Good.”

Carefully, John moved them to the other side of the pool where it had that shallow slope for a good five feet. Siena rolled over to her back, and let the water lap around her while John sat beside her.

“I’m sorry about my mom,” he said after a moment.

“Don’t be. She really wasn’t trying to hurt you, or scare me off, John.”

“Doesn’t seem that way.”

“I wouldn’t ever lie to you.”

He looked down at her. “I know.”

And yet, he still had the tendrils of distrust and betrayal where his family was concerned. It was disconcerting. Like his heart was being tugged in two different directions. A familiar war that fought back and forth with his thoughts and emotions.

Overwhelming, really.

“I am worried about you, though,” she whispered.

John glanced down at her, and saw the truth in her gaze. He didn’t want her to worry at all. Not about him. He had his shit handled.

Didn’t he?

In a blink, he had rolled himself from his backside, to be hovering over Siena. She looked up at him through thick lashes, and gave him one of those sweet grins. He couldn’t help himself but to lean down and catch her teasing little mouth in a kiss.

Against her lips, he murmured, “With you, I am always fine.”

“Are you?”

Sea-blue eyes searched his gaze again.

“All the time, I feel like I’m drowning.” John dragged a finger down Siena’s parted lips and over the column of her throat. “Drowning in too much of everything. Responsibilities. Emotions. Reactions. People. Business. It never stops. Like I’m on my back in water, and it’s getting higher by the second.”

Kind of like her right then.

“But it doesn’t feel that way with you,” John admitted. “Or if it does, it’s a good feeling.”

“It’s good to drown?”

“To drown in you, sure.”

She reached for him, then, pulling him close again for a kiss that was harder, and deeper. Her tongue snaked into his mouth, and battled with his. Her hands slid down his naked, wet chest, and then her fingers slipped lower. His breath caught hard in his throat when her hands circled around his cock.

One stroke, then two.

Three, then four.

He was hard as hell in her palms, and she just kept stroking him awake even more.

“Fuck,” he grunted against her mouth. “You’re going to make me want something else, love.”

“Please.”

That was all she said.

Please.

His heart raced with want. His blood thickened with need.