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“You must be pretty used to it, though.”
“I never get used to shit like this,” he shrugged. “I will never forget where I’m from, and how hard life was growing up. I try to soak in my blessings every chance I get. Or at least I used to, and I’m trying to start again.”
Rhys was irresistible. Seeing him in real life, as opposed to on TV, or even at a game, he was just like anyone else. He didn’t have an air of entitlement following him around. It felt no different talking to him than it did any other guy.
With the exception of the insane sexual tension he created.
No guy I had ever talked to before made me feel so weak with just a glance or a casual touch. Rhys was superior in that department, but it wasn’t because he was rich and famous, it was because he was just Rhys, no matter what.
“I don't have a suit,” I reminded him, breaking us away from the view and back to business.
“You have onDri-FITshorts and a sports bra. It's practically a swimsuit.”
I licked my lips and turned around to face the pool. Lights had come on around the rooftop as the sun was fading. I peeled my practice jersey over my head and tossed it onto a chair before dragging a foot into the water to test the temperature.
“You coming too?”
Rhys swallowed and slid his hands into his jean pockets, shaking his head slightly to tell me he had no intention of getting in. “Just relax. Let the water cool you down.”
Taking the steps gingerly, I tried gradually adjusting to how cold the water was, not wanting to lose my breath by diving in. “How is it so cold? It's on a roof in the middle of Miami, shouldn't it feel like a bath?”
“I have a cooler on it, for this very reason. I do laps after practice sometimes. Well, I did before I started coming to the university.”
“Then I don't understand why you're not joining me now, didn’t you have practice today too?”
“Yeah, but it won’t be very relaxing if I join you.”
“Why is that?”
“Don’t play dumb, Ash.” He rested his hands on the back of a chair in front of him and leaned over, eyeing me. “You know why.”
“Honestly,” I huffed, “I don't know anything anymore. Being around you is like having a serious case of whiplash.”
He stood straight, his mask slipping to show me he knew exactly how I felt. Like we couldn’t decide if we were coming or going, hot or cold, north or south. I left him to figure it out while I dove backward and submerged myself the rest of the way into the water. Under the water, my thoughts were quiet, and my concentration was on my task. Using the wall, I pushed back the other way and didn’t come up again until I was right where I was standing moments before.
Rhys was still in place, but the look on his face changed. He nodded to himself a few times before flicking his wrist and catching his watch as it fell off. He took the bracelets off as well, then reached behind him and pulled his shirt over his head to reveal his chest.
My heart started racing, knowing that calling him a case of whiplash had spurred anything holding him back. He was about to prove a point, that joining me in the pool was about to be the opposite of relaxing.
So far, he was right, because I could barely handle it when he flicked his belt open and unbuttoned his jeans. Kicking his flip flops to the side, he let his zipper down and his jeans fell, showing me he was a boxer-briefs guy.
Thank you, adidas. Thank you.
Like a panther, he started walking toward the deep end, his eyes on me and his gait steady and calm. I followed his gaze, turning as he got farther away. When he stopped at the deep end, he smirked, and shrugged one last time before muttering. “No more whiplash.”
Then he dove in head first and I watched as his body got closer and closer to where I was standing. The water was coming to my stomach so when he was directly in front of me I could see all the way to the bottom. He pushed on the floor of the pool and came up, so close to me that the water dripping from his hair splashed me in the face, making me turn to protect my eyes.
Without even getting a chance to look back, his hand was on my cheek and he was pulling me back to face him. His head tilted and he brought his lips close to mine. “Just once,” he whispered, before closing the small gap between us.
Our lips touching was like an imprint, molded as if they were always meant to be together. We breathed in the feel of our connection while both of Rhys’ hands held my cheeks gently. He pushed harder, slipping his tongue between my lips, and demanded entrance to my mouth.
My hands found his chest and I traced the lines of his muscles before grabbing onto his shoulders and holding myself as close to him as I could. His resounding groan sent chills down my spine, and I knew why romance novels always described kisses as melting, because that was exactly what I was doing.
Cold in the pool, but miraculously melting in Rhys’ arms.
Rhys moved his hands from my face and ran them down my body, finding the backside of my thighs and pulling me closer. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. I could feel how hard he was and I moved my pelvis against him, begging him for more.
“Just once.”
