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Curtis put on a pair of black trunks, grabbed a few towels from the linen closet in the hall since Lexi probably hadn’t found any, and headed out to the pool.
He intended to slay her by walking out sans shirt. He knew he looked good. He ate well. Worked out religiously. Made sure to keep himself well-groomed. And it paid off. Most women nearly climaxed at the sight of his bare chest. He knew Lexi wasn’t most women, but he also knew she likely wasn’t immune. He really believed in his theory about her detesting him because she had some secret crush on him.
That made two of them. Except he didn’t detest her. He’d left her alone over the years out of professional courtesy and that was all. He’d been too busy before, preoccupied with the family business, keeping the company alive, and- even if he didn’t want to admit it- other women. But that random stranger business had kind of lost its appeal. Maybe he was getting older. Maybe he was done with the bullshit. Maybe he didn’t want to be Seattle’s most eligible anything anymore.
He’d wanted Lexi for years, and it all boiled down to him being too scared to ask her out. She’d also made it clear that she didn’t want him to. He’d bided his time, but he realized Lexi wasn’t going to stay single forever. She was gorgeous. How she wasn’t already scooped up was beyond him.
He was pretty much desperate and that made him bold. Bold and stupid.
He expected, when he set the towels down on one of the eight lounge chairs by the huge rectangular pool, for Lexi to let out a gasp and faint right away. Okay, maybe not, but he expected her to notice him.
Instead, he was the one who noticed her.
He’d told her that he had a pool and they’d likely use it, given that the forecast was for a thousand degrees every single day. She’d packed a swimsuit. But god, it was not just any swimsuit. It was a freaking yellow bikini. Not that it was one of those barely there numbers. No, it was pretty PG rated. The top was more suited to a swim meet or a brisk morning jog. It cupped her breasts and hugged them tightly, sucking them into her body. It was one of those racers back things, more like a sports bra than anything. The bottoms were boy shorts. They didn’t show any ass cheek or ride dangerously low. They were modest to the extreme. BUT GOD, that somehow made them even sexier.
That and the fact that they were soaking wet and Lexi was bending over and they cupped and defined her ass cheeks. Ass cheeks he very much wouldn’t mind licking if he could summon any saliva into his dry mouth ever again.
She was soaked, helping Noel with a lifejacket malfunction or something, at the side of the pool. Water beaded down her hair, darkening it. She had a perfect body. Pale, gorgeous skin. Long, shapely, slightly muscular legs. Flat stomach with actual abs. Not scary abs, just nice abs. God. Abs he also wouldn’t mind licking.
She finally turned to help Noel into the pool. Austin was sitting on the concrete and she bent to grab him to head back in. She noticed him standing by the lounge chair. Her eyes flicked briefly over him in passive disinterest before she turned her head and went back to whatever ridiculous game she and the kids were playing.
So, she wanted to play it that way. Dirty. Good.
She’d noticed him, alright. He didn’t miss the spark in her eyes, nor the way they darkened or the slight quirk in her lips. She’d angled her thighs in together, like the sight of him did dirty things to her in places she didn’t want to acknowledge. She’d noticed. She’d pretended that she hadn’t. If she wanted to play hard to get, that was just fine with him. She was going down and she was going down soon. After the kids were asleep. Going down in a ball of blazing glory. And she was going to enjoy every single second, or his name wasn’t Curtis James and his name was definitely Curtis James.
CHAPTER 7
Lexi
Freaking. Curtis. James.
Lexi was around ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine percent sure that the bastard had come out to the pool just to taunt her by wearing nothing but a pair of black swim trunks. His very sexy everything was on display.
Including the dang V that either Andy or Sam had mentioned the night before during their late-night text session. That V. That freaking V. His tight swim trunks riding real low pointed out the trail to glory. Damn it.
She watched, out of the corner of her eye, trying not to make it obvious that she was looking at all, as Curtis lounged on the chair at the side of the pool. He had his eyes shut, or at least he was pretending he did. His arms were folded behind his head. He really was a masterpiece. A grossly erotic painting that whoever painted probably got executed for just because it was sinfully blasphemous to have put that much perfection on display.
