Page 64 of One Bossy Disaster


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Shit.

I should’ve known this dramatic little brat just had to test it out.

Fine, let her.

I watch while the bottom of her new kayak glistens in the sun, waiting impatiently.

After a solid minute, I start to worry.

She hasn’t come up yet.

I allow ten more seconds for signs of movement, and then I stop thinking.

I’m up, plunging in after her, cutting through the water until I find her sleek black form, grasping her waist.

She’s not stuck, thank God.

All that matters is that she’s safe and I’ve got her now.

She struggles a little from the shock of my arms grabbing her, then she must remember what I told her if she ever needs an assisted rescue.

She goes limp as I drag her to the surface.

The air is cold and biting as we tread water that suddenly feels far less friendly.

Her body presses against mine, fully molded, and I’m holding her so tightly she couldn’t escape if she tried.

The warmth of her body seeps through her wet suit—even through mine—and I can’t make my arms unlock from around her waist.

Fuck, if this was her idea of a joke, I’ll send her packing on the spot.

I’m close enough to see the diamond beads dripping from her eyelashes.

She looks at me, no sign of a smile on her face.

Her hands are splayed flat against my chest. I wait for her to apply pressure, to push me away, but she doesn’t.

Fuck.

I didn’t think it was possible for her to be any sexier, but drenched like this, with water against her parted mouth, she’s pure nectar.

For a long second, there’s silence.

Only our breaths, panting and frantic, this crackling charge like the air itself waits for us to breathe again, the space between us seared.

Then she breaks into a nervous laugh, swiping her wet hair back from her face and pushing back from me. Her face is pink now.

“Oh my God. I... I thought it would be easier than that. I’m sorry.”

I look away before I can’t.

“Are you all right? You scared me shitless.” My voice is hard. Adrenaline thrums through my veins.

She laughs harder then, wiping her wet face clean.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine,” she splutters. “I can swim. Yousawme.”

“I saw you go under, Miss Lancaster. Do not bullshit me.”

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