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“You have no shower.” That’s how I started the new conversation after walking outside. I was still incredulous that he’d lived here for almost a year with no shower. I didn’t mind rustic, but that was pushing it and I wasn’t certain the stream of water running in the back of the house was even deep enough to wash more than my hands.
When I didn’t see him, I growled under my breath. He’d opened the back windows, the breeze already cooling down the interior. I glanced toward the lake, seeing nothing. Then I heard the door behind me. As he walked out, two bottles of beer in his hand, my breath was taken away. He’d yanked off his shirt, even changing into shorts, and for a few seconds, I couldn’t think clearly.
My nipples hardened immediately, the ache that I’d felt in my pussy returning. I forced myself to look away, but not before I involuntarily dragged my tongue across my lower lip.
“You underestimate me, sweetheart,” he said as he walked toward me, lifting a single eyebrow as he handed me a beer. “Come with me.”
As he led me to the side of the house near the bedroom, I was surprised I hadn’t noticed an outdoor shower. While it was surrounded on all sides by beautifully crafted wooden pieces, it was still out in the open. “Interesting.”
“You’ll appreciate it when you’re hot and wet all over.”
“Isn’t that what water is for? To create wetness?”
The moment the words flew out of my mouth, I knew I was playing with fire. He cocked his head, which accentuated a dimple in his chin I hadn’t noticed given his constant two- or three-day stubble. “I can think of better ways.” He took a long pull on his beer, studying me intently, his gaze slowly dropping to my feet. “Let’s take a walk. Then I’ll throw something together for dinner. You game, sweetheart?”
“Sure. Why not. I might as well see all of paradise.” He led me to a small bridge leading over the water. I stood in the center for a few seconds, able to see how incredibly clear it was, and from what I could tell, deeper than I’d suspected.
Viper studied me the entire time, amused that I found the river so interesting. I noticed his heated gaze and gave him a look of my own. “Are you ever going to tell me your real name? Or should I guess?”
“Names aren’t important.”
“Well, I guess mine was since if I’d been Jane Smith, rescuing me wouldn’t have gone over well with your superior.”
He laughed. “A good point.” Then he returned to his usual silence as we walked through the trees, the small path partially covered by undergrowth.
“Okay. Mario,” I said. He just looked at me.
“Do I look like a Mario to you?”
I wasn’t going to say what was running through my mind. Stud muffin. Sex on wheels. Hunk of the Year. “Where were you born? That’s fair.”
“Where were you born?”
“I’m asking the questions.”
“And I’m in control. Remember? You follow my rules,” he stated, his voice just as authoritative as before.
I growled on purpose. “I promise I won’t bite if you tell me.”
“You’re not going to let it go. Are you?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“I was born in Puerto Rico. Sadly, I haven’t returned in a few years.”
“Hmm… Diego.”
“Not even close,” he insisted.
“Manuel.”
He lifted his head, a wry smile on his face. Then his expression became blank. “That’s my brother.”
“Do you have a large family?”
“You ask entirely too many questions.”
While I laughed, butterflies swarmed in my stomach. Why was I suddenly nervous around him? “I’m just curious.” I noticed the trees starting to thin out not far ahead.
