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“Do you always play hooky?” I asked. “I need to know now so I can schedule it in.”
“That would ruin the fun of playing hooky,” he said, laughing. “You don’t play hooky?”
“When I quit my job at the college, I had five years of sick days and vacation to cash out,” I said.
“Wow. You don’t take days off?”
“Nope,” I said with my fingers trailing through the water. “I’m a damn good assistant. I keep my guys on their toes. They are never late. They never miss appointments and every email and phone call are returned. You don’t know how good I am.”
Yes, there was a tiny bit of innuendo there. I wanted to tease him. I liked the idea of keeping him on his toes. I hated him and wanted him at the same time.
“I don’t think I do,” he said. “I’m interested in finding out.”
“I have one question,” I said.
“Shoot.”
“I was told your last assistant had been with you for forty years,” I said. “Unless you are aging very, very well, I don’t get it.”
He smirked again. “She was my dad’s assistant,” he explained. “I inherited her. She’s been around longer than I have. Losing her was tough, but she had served the family for the better part of her adult life. It was time for her to move on to retirement. I have to say, she was more like a grandmother really.”
“Ah, so she could keep you in line with her age and wisdom,” I said.
“I guess you could say that.”
“She left me a long list of notes,” I told him. “And she wanted me to remind you to drink water.”
He laughed again. “That sounds exactly like her.”
“She cared about you.”
“You sound surprised,” he said.
He was close. Too close.
“I guess I am,” I replied.
“Why? You don’t think anyone would?”
“Not anyone in their right mind,” I teased.
He grabbed my face and kissed me. I tasted the salt on his lips. Our legs rubbed together as we stayed afloat. His hand touched the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. His tongue slashed against mine. It was me who deepened the kiss. My arm reached around him, pulling our bodies closer together. Things were quickly heating up despite the cold water.
I pushed back, away from him. “We should get back,” I said.
“I’m sorry.” He followed behind me. “I didn’t mean—obviously, I did mean it—but it just happened.”
“It’s fine.”
I climbed the ladder and pulled myself back onto the deck. There were some towels folded on a bench. I snatched one up and covered my body. I felt exposed. I grabbed a second towel and used it to dry my hair as best as I could.
Jon pulled himself out of the water. It was a fantasy come to life. Water sluiced down his perfect, broad chest. His washboard abs flexed as he climbed the ladder. His body was straight out of a novel about Greek gods. I couldn’t help but stare at the man. He was fucking hot. Gorgeous. Sex on a stick.
I tossed a towel at him.
“Thanks,” he said.
“I’m going to change,” I said.
