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I open my mouth to protest, but he thrust his hips forward. The column of his shaft stabs through his swimming trunks and into my melting core. My entire body seems to seize up. Goosebumps pop on my skin. Despite the fact that the pool is heated—Hollywood, eh?—I shiver.
His smirk widens. "That’s what I thought." He releases his hold on my waist, pushes me away, and taps my head. "Run along now, like a good little girl."
He moves past me, hauls himself out of the pool, and begins to walk away. I should let him go. I should cut my losses and go back to my room, but that impulsive part of me that has always gotten me into trouble, the part that insisted I rebel against my mother and run out of the beach at two a.m., surges forward. I shove myself out of the pool with less grace than him, then call out, "Hey, jerkface."
12
Declan
The fuck? Did she just call me—? I pivot, and she throws herself at me. In what’s a repeat of that scene in her room that got me into trouble in the first place, she literally climbs me like a tree. Instinctively, I cup her behind to stop her from falling. She hooks her ankles about my waist, throws her arms around my neck and rears up. Poised with her lips just a hair’s breadth away from mine, she demands, "Kiss me," then waits.
I pull back enough to be just out of reach.
"Damn you, kiss me, asshole."
"My, my, what a potty mouth you’ve developed, little girl. And to think, you were expecting to go into an arranged marriage?"
"I’d have won him over eventually, and—"
"Don’t fucking talk about him." I wind her hair around my palm and tug, so the beautiful column of her neck is bared for my appraisal.
"You jealous of him?"
"Don’t talk about any other man when we’re together."
"Is there a 'we' then?" She looks at me from under hooded eyelashes.
"There’s no 'we.' I’ll never belong to only one woman, and definitely not to a young, virginal Mafia princess—"
"I’m not a virgin."
"What a little liar you are."
"I might have been sheltered, doesn’t mean I didn’t get around, and—"
I pull on her hair, and she flinches. "You’re hurting me."
"Better get used to it," I growl. Then, because I fucking can’t help myself, and because the sight of her slick, naked body fills my vision, and because my cock is seconds away from bursting through the barrier of my swim trunks and burying itself in her hot tight pussy, and no way, will I allow myself to go there—yet—I run my nose up her throat.
She shivers, and her nipples tighten into points that dig into my chest. My dick extends and thickens, and the blood drains to my groin and—fuck this, but I’m fast forgetting why I thought it a good idea to declare I wasn’t going to shag her.
I draw in a deep breath, filling my lungs with that sugary sweet scent that is her. My heart seems to swell in my chest; my balls harden. I open my mouth and sink my teeth into the side of her neck, mimicking the bite she placed on me earlier. Only, I go a step further. I break the skin, so the coppery taste of her blood fills my palate.
My eyes roll back in my head. Fucking hell, I knew she’d taste as sweet as she smells. My heart seems to expand until I sense its beat in every cell in my body. Until I can feel her pulse racing in tandem with mine. Fucking hell, this is dangerous. This is why I didn’t want to mess up the lines I drew earlier. My proclivities are the kind she would never be able to bear. And to think, it's her actions that created those needs in me. I lick the skin I broke, and the depression of my teeth marks on her neck sends a primitive thrill down my spine. Which, in turn, warns me that if I didn’t put distance between us, it’s going to be too late. It is too late. Too late.
"Declan?" She searches my features. "What’s wrong, you—"
There’s a flash from the side. I turn my head in that direction, and another flashbulb goes off.
"Motherfucker!" I take a step forward toward the pool and drop her.
"What the hell, Dec—" The rest of her words are swallowed up by the water closing in over her.
I turn and race toward the bushes, where the photographer's hidden. I leap over the hydrangea, then push through the assorted flowering bushes planted there. I reach the perimeter of the garden to find a man racing across the beach and away from the house. Fucking fuck. I turn and find her right behind me. The good news? She’s wearing her bathrobe. The bad news? I’m pissed with her.
"The fuck did you follow me here?" I roar.
She gapes, then swipes out her arm. Her palm connects with my cheek, and fuck me, my pulse rate goes through the roof. The blood drains to my groin. "You’ve done it now," I growl.
