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"Away from where we were."
"Fabulous plan."
We're approaching the railroad trestle that spans the Trinity River, but he veers off the road mere feet from the bridge and heads across the grassy expanse of Trinity Park.
"You really have no clue what you're doing," I say. "Randomly swerving around doesn't help anything."
He stares straight ahead as we bounce across the walking paths, then he swerves right to duck under the trestle. I'm about to say something when he slams on the brakes, making the car fishtail briefly, and we jerk to a halt at the edge of the grassy riverbank. Dax flings his door open and leaps out.
"What are you doing now?" I ask.
He slams the door shut.
While I watch, probably with my mouth gaping, he traipses down a rocky path that leads to the water. What on earth is he up to? We can't drive across the river or swim to safety. Well, I suppose we could drive over the railroad bridge, but it would be a very bumpy ride. And where would we go, anyway? He still hasn't answered that question.
I climb out of the car and stumble along the rocky path, jogging to catch up as he stomps down the shore. I assume he wants to get away from the lumpy area and avoid the drop-off where the water dives into a swirling cascade. He finds a calmer part of the river and halts.
Then he kicks off his boots and starts to remove his clothing.
I stop a dozen feet from him, suddenly frozen. He's not going to undress all the way. Is he? No, he must want to get rid of his coat, that's all. But the idea he might strip naked gives me a strange fluttery sensation in my tummy. I watch in mute fascination, glued to this spot, while he removes every stitch of his clothing.
Dax now stands buck naked on the shore.
Swallowing hard, I try to look away. But my eyes have other ideas. I drink in the sight of his nude body, all muscles and sinews, from his thick biceps to his taut ass and those powerful thighs. When we met, I'd noticed hints of tattoos peeking out from under his shirt, but now I can see the sweeping designs that cover one arm and half of his torso. Though I want to ask him about his tattoos, I get distracted when he turns halfway toward me.
And I get a good look at his dick.
The long, thick length of it is impressive even though he's not aroused. I can't imagine how big he is when he gets an erection. Well, yeah, I kind of can imagine. But I wish I couldn't. That fluttery sensation grows stronger, and a sultry tingle sweeps over my skin, awakening a deep, wet throbbing inside my sex. No, I cannot want a jerk like Dax.
But heaven help me, Idowant him.
Dax wades into the river. Then he turns around and looks straight at me. "Come in, Allison. Join me."
Chapter Nine
Dax
Allison stares at me with wide eyes, but she's not gawping at my face. Her attention is fixated on my body. She can see everything since I've waded in only up to my knees. I need to shag that woman. Right now. I'll take her in the water or on the grass or anyplace she wants as long as I can have her this instant. It's been too bloody long since I felt a woman's body wrapped around me. Even longer since I had a girl who wasn't from the Echo.
I wade in deeper, glancing over my shoulder at Allison.
She's rubbing her arms and biting her lip. She wants me, and she wants to disrobe in my presence. I can tell. Understanding a woman's amorous responses had been the key to my success in the bedroom before the Echo.
Allison edges closer to the water.
I drop to my knees and fall backward into the current. My whole body sinks under the surface, and I whisk my fingers through my hair to cleanse the filth from it. When I emerge from the water, I see Allison has removed her boots. She just tossed them onto the grass, and now she pulls her shirt off over her head and lets it flutter down to join her boots on the ground. Her gaze locks on to mine as she shimmies out of her jeans.
The sight of her almost naked transfixes me. Her pale blue bra reveals the inner slopes of her breasts, and her skimpy knickers barely cover the hairs at the apex of her thighs. My breathing grows labored as I watch and wait for her to strip off the rest of her clothing. But she doesn't do it. Allison wades into the water in her underwear, and once she's in up to her knees, she whirls around and flops into the water backward, unleashing a miniature geyser around her.
The splash rains down on me.
She sinks under the surface, then shoots back up, smiling at the sky.
Christ, she's beautiful.
Allison tips her head back to rinse her hair in the water. The movement pushes her breasts up, and her wet bra reveals the hard peaks of her nipples.
Movement catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. Though I turn my head to look, I can't see anything. But I know there had been motion. I slowly scan the river until I see it—an odd ripple in the water that seems to be traveling toward us, fast. The ripple reminds me of when I'd once seen a shark racing through the water, but its dorsal fin had protruded above the surface. Still, whatever is causing the ripple seems to be moving just as fast and creating a similar profile in the water.
