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“And you?” he asks, tilting his head questioningly.
I swallow, trying to settle my nerves. It seems like every time I turn around, I’m running into the man. “Just putting some wet clothes in the wash and about to start cleaning up.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ve got it.”
I nod, watching his mouth as he speaks. “I know, but I can’t sleep right now. My mind won’t shut off so it will help.”
“Okay.” He passes me a large black garbage bag. “I already got the kitchen. We can tackle out back together.”
We fill garbage bags with discarded beer cans in silence. I wasn’t lying when I said my mind wouldn’t shut off. For weeks now, I’ve been contemplating what to do about Malcom. It’s not that I don’t like him, I do. But it feels like we have very different outlooks on life and where we want to see ourselves. He’s fine partying and living his best life. After earlier today, moving out of my mother’s house is now at the top of my priority list, which means no partying and lots of hard work.
And if I’m being honest with myself, my attraction to Malcom is almost nonexistent. He’s still the best option for losing my V card. My only other option is to toss it away to some stranger or a guy I barely know. At least with Malcom, I know he’ll be gentle. But is that all I get? Just someone who is kind and gentle? What about passion? Shouldn’t I wait until I find a man who makes my blood sing and my pulse race? Someone who erases all my fear with his touch?
I toss my full bag in a pile next to Weston’s and gaze across the yard. A moment later, Weston joins me at the edge of the pool.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks.
I turn toward him, running my gaze across his body. The man is mysterious and intimidating as hell. It always feels as if his dark eyes are peering straight into my soul. And he’s so... intelligent and well-spoken, his voice like soft butter on a warm piece of toast. Don’t even get me started on how utterly handsome he is. Tall and toned, with thick jet-black hair, the same color as the well-manicured beard on his chiseled jaw.
“No, not really. What I want is to forget it all for a minute and just let loose. For once, I want to feel free.”
He nods his head, taking in what I’ve said. “I take it cleaning didn’t help empty your mind.”
I chuckle dryly. “Not even a little.”
“Want to take a swim? That usually helps me.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I eye the water. A swim does sound nice. The water was perfect earlier, but I really need to get to bed. We have an early day tomorrow.
“Just stop thinking for a minute and leap.”
I laugh. “Is that philosophical?”
Weston takes a step toward me, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”
“You first, then.”
I’ve no sooner finished the sentence than he dives into the pool, spraying water into the air.
“Jesus.”
“I told you. Don’t think, just leap.”
Taking a deep breath, I shut out all thoughts, and for the first time in my life, I simply jump. The water is cool and refreshing. Spreading my arms, I glide underwater using my feet to propel me faster. I dart past Weston and then circle back around him. His arms dip under the water, trying to catch me, but his fingers brushing across my breast and sparks race across my skin.
When my lungs feel like they will pop without oxygen, I surface, taking in several short gasps of air. A strong hand wraps around the back of my neck, his fingers encircling my throat. His grip is not gentle, but it’s not forceful either. He’s holding me in place. When he leans forward, his body presses against my back. “Caught you.” Chills spread across every inch of my flesh.
I spin around to face him, but he sinks beneath the water and swims past my legs, only to pop up behind me once again.
My pulse is racing, thrumming in my ears like the beat of a drum. Every place he touches me tingles. I dive forward, propelling away from him. There’s a splash, but I don’t waste a second looking back. I’ve almost reached the far wall when his hand wraps around my ankle and pulls me back toward him. His arm circles my waist, followed by a short snip of teeth against my shoulder.
Pushing against the bottom of the pool, I dart to the surface and spin, looking for him, waiting for him to surface. A few seconds later, he pops up by the steps in the shallow end. He shakes the water out of his hair and slowly climbs from the pool.
“Do you always go around biting people?” I say, rubbing my fingers across the indent of his teeth.
“Only those who run.”
He steps fully from the pool and turns away from me to grab a towel, but not before I see the massive erection tenting his swim shorts. My retort dies on my tongue, shrivels to ash, and blows away on the wind.
