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“Wait here, please.”
“What?” Duke says, then grunts in surprise as I slither into the pool. Water rushes in all around me, stroking over my skin and probing between the strands of my hair, and it’s warm after a day of cooking in the sun, but it’s still cooler than my overheated body.
My tank top flaps in the water. Bubbles rush past my face.
I shake my head, eyes squeezed closed against the chlorine.
Does scrubbing underwater make any difference? I do it anyway. And it’s not as good as a proper bath, but when I break the surface, I feel a thousand times cleaner.
“Okay,” I say. Duke’s stunned, still kneeling by the pool. “I’m ready. Help me up.”
He lifts me out so easily. Like plucking a fallen leaf.
When he sits me on the pool edge, he takes his hands away quickly. I catch his wrists and put them back.
“What?” Duke says again, shaking his head in bewilderment. But his hands grip my waist nice and tight, kneading and squeezing me through my soaked top, and already he’s looming closer. “What just happened?”
“I ran ten miles, that’s what happened. Meg’s been testing out her boot camp routines on me all day, and I was sweaty as hell. Did you really want to get up close and personal with that?”
“Yes,” he says immediately, and my eyes burn as I smile. It’s so good to be near him again, chatting and teasing. Touching and stroking. This morning feels like a bad dream—nothing more.
“You really want me to stay?”
Duke brushes wet hair off my forehead. “More than anything. For every day for the rest of my life. I’m sorry I messed up this morning, but please, Clementine. I need you.”
Well.
Okay, then.
“I’m finishing college first,” I say as he lays me back, kissing my wet neck. His beard is gonna smell like chlorine. “That’s another year apart.”
Duke’s words rumble against my skin. “I’ll come visit. All the time.”
“You will?”
He puffs out a heavy breath. I squirm against stone. “Clementine. You’re not hearing me, baby. You’d have to order me away.”
I would?
That is… very new to me. In my twenty one years, I’ve been great at slowly losing people; at watching friends and family drift away. I’ve never had someone want me around this much before.
“I could come here too,” I say, testing the waters. “Could stay sometimes on the weekend. Just the two of us.”
“Yes,” Duke breathes against my collarbone, his hands fumbling down by my waist. Gathering two sopping handfuls of tank top. “Sweet Jesus. I want that so badly.”
Me too. Just like I want, no,needthe way Duke yanks my top over my head. It lands on the stone tiles with a wet slap. Need his hungry eyes roaming down my body; need his mouth against mine, tongue snaking past my lips.
The sports bra comes off harder, molded to my body now that it’s soaked. Duke curses and grunts, and I’m no help at all, melting into a pile of giggles.
“Devil—thing!”
When he finally gets it off, he flings it at the wall. It snags on the trellis, dangling there like a damp flag. Can’t breathe for laughing.
“I’m leaving hand prints all over you,” I say when I can speak again, spreading my fingers over his chest to demonstrate. His gray t-shirt goes darker where I’ve touched. All over Duke’s burly body, I’ve left a trail of greedy damp hand prints, mapping out his chest and shoulders and belly.
He rocks back on his heels and looks down at himself. Grins at me, so pleased.
Lord. I grab my own breasts, cupping and squeezing, and no, it’s not subtle, but just the sight of this man gets my motor working double time.
