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I watch him lift the bar two more times before he sets it against the rack. I’m not expecting him to sit up and notice me right away, but that’s exactly what he does. In a matter of three seconds, I’m standing stiff like a statue.
More sweat droplets cling to his forehead and leave a wet trail down the dark hair speckled across his chest. He looks like he’s worked off all of his worries. With furrowed brows, he meets my gaze with confusion.
“Pool,” I sputter out when he tugs his headphones off. “Please, don’t mind me. Continue your workout and pretend I’m not even here.”
Before he can catch on to how heavy I am staring at him, I remember how to use my legs and move them toward the door on the other side of the room. I get only a few steps in before he moves to stand.
“You’re going to swim?” He swipes at his brow and my mouth waters. “I’m finished. How about I join you? Still need to get in a few laps myself.”
My heart thuds in my chest at his offer. Knowing I can’t turn down the guy from swimming in his own pool, I hug my towel to my chest.
Honestly, I kind of want the man as close to me as possible. However, the tingles do get worse whenever he’s nearby.
Even though it’s not a good idea, I nod my head. While I’m currently feeling a bit rough, my mind isn’t in the right state. If he looks too close, he might even see the longing in my eyes.
It takes a second to find my footing once more, but I move across his gym while working hard to keep my eyes off of him. He, on the other hand, is staring my way. I can feel his eyes burning onto my bare shoulders and legs. Everywhere the towel isn’t hiding.
Is my imagination simply playing tricks on me?
Once I am past the door that leads to the pool, I get a minute without that sensation. Setting my towel down, I’m left looking at the crystal-clear water. When was the last time I swam in a pool like this? I can’t remember.
Before I allow my thoughts to continue to take over my head, I walk up to the edge and jump straight in.
The water isn’t as cold as I expected, but it does the job. The outside of my body is cooling down, but nothing changes about the inside.
Plunging up, I lean against the edge of the pool. In the shallow part, my toes curl against the textured tiles down below. Waiting for Idris to return, I hide most of my face behind my propped-up arms when he appears. I don’t want him to see my reaction to seeing him in nothing but swim shorts.
I look too, unable to help myself. My eyes run down the front of his chest and as I take in the deep golden color of his skin, my lips part. The hair on his chest leads straight down to the band of his shorts. Now that he’s closer, I can follow the trail with my eyes. I’m terrible for not stopping myself there. No, I keep looking and I see the curve pushing against the fabric.
Not even my ignorance of men is enough to save my mind from going places.
A pool isn’t enough to cool me down. No, what I need is an ice bath. One good shock to my body to get all of these pent-up feelings out.
“Are you enjoying the water?” he asks after plopping his towel down next to my own.
Not able to trust my voice, I nod my head. Pushing back against the wall, I catch him watching me with half of a smile on his face. Knowing it’s bad for my heart, I imagine that he’s looking at me like I was him only a few minutes ago.
Going back under the water, I can feel him enter as well. Spending far too much time under, I pop back up panting.
“This feels great,” I murmur as I manage to find my voice, “it’s a shame I haven’t taken advantage of this yet.”
Floating on the water, I stare up at the ceiling. It helps keep my eyes off of him. Already knowing that there would be water droplets rolling down his skin makes me want to drown myself. This is no good. I seriously can’t feel this way about the man watching over me.
Even with that being the case, he doesn’t make it any easier by swimming closer to me. Despite this entire space, he picks to linger a few feet away. So close that if he wanted, I knew he could touch me.
I wish he would. Particularly in the same way I tried touching myself last night.
“The swimsuit,” he starts up after clearing his throat, “it looks nice.”
A tick of silence passes between us. Another throb and plea from my body makes me snap.
I can’t take it anymore. Hitting my breaking point, I shift in the water. Looking his way, I can see it. The hunger in his eyes. He doesn’t even look shocked when I erase the space between us.
When his arms open, I dart toward him. Grabbing his shoulders, the water makes it challenging to climb him like a spider monkey, but once I’m there, I’m glued.
Neither of us speaks, only filling the air with our quickening breaths. By the time I’ve got my chest pressed to his and my legs wrapped around his hips, I’m ready to scream in victory.
I’m too gone to think of how wrong this is.
