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“You…” He didn’t seem capable of saying anything else.
She began to worry. Perhaps she’d broken him. “Are you—”
“I can’t believe you did that!”
His expression was too much. He was bedraggled and utterly furious. She whooped with laughter. She couldn’t stop. Not even when he dipped his hand into the water and sent it flying at her face. He was the funniest thing she’d seen in years.
* * *
In the faceof Kat’s laughter, Sterling’s anger ebbed. He wanted to stay mad, but the truth was, she’d got him good, and he’d never seen her laugh like this before, with her whole heart and soul in it. Water streamed down her face and her eyes were tinged red, but that laughter made her the most irresistible woman he’d ever met. He adored it. Wanted to hear it tomorrow, and the day after that. Wished there was a way he could bottle her laugh and replay it over and over again. It wrapped around his heart like a hug, and he realized he didn’t just adore her laugh, he was coming to adore her, too. Even the infuriating parts of her.
Still, she was laughing at him, and some things could not be tolerated. With a couple of strokes, he covered the distance between them, settled his hands on her waist and kissed her.
That put a stop to her laughter.
Her lips were cool beneath his and they responded sluggishly, but they did respond. She was kissing him back, hesitantly at first, then more eagerly. He was lucky they were in such frigid water or there’d be no mistaking how much he liked the taste of her and the sensation of her pebbled nipples against his chest. Her tongue flicked against his lips and he gasped. He hadn’t expected her to take the role of aggressor. To be fair, he hadn’t expected much of anything because he’d acted without thinking, and his brain was struggling to keep up.
She thrust him away and he tightened his grip on her waist, refusing to be dislodged.
“Sterling,” she said impatiently. “We can’t get out of the water if you won’t let me go.”
Oh.
He released her, watching while she hoisted herself onto a flat rock on the edge of the pool and climbed out, then he followed, feeling clumsy when he slipped and had to catch himself. When he stood on dry land, Kat grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. He heard her wringing the water from it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her exposed skin. The dusk light hid some parts of her while revealing others. Her skin glistened and her breasts were hidden by a functional black bra, but the deep shadow of her cleavage enticed him. Then she moved, and he noticed something on the side of her ribcage, black against the light brown of her skin.
“Is that a tattoo?” he asked.
She glanced down, as if to remind herself of what he was asking about. “Oh, yeah. I forget it’s there sometimes. It’s just a part of me now.”
“What is it?”
She hesitated, gnawing on her lip, apparently weighing whether or not to tell him. He regretted asking.
“You don’t have to say.”
“It’s a locked heart,” she said. “I got it after my husband died, because that was how I felt. Like I should just lock up my heart and throw away the key.”
Sorrow clawed at his chest. He didn’t want to hear more, but he couldn’t help wondering: did she still feel that way? Would she ever be willing, or able, to share her heart with another man? With him?
He reached out and traced the tattoo. Goosebumps rippled over her skin. He’d been ready to suggest they head back and each go to their respective rooms, but then he noticed her nipple peaking in response to his touch, through the wet fabric of her bra. Fascinated, he lowered the bra strap and caressed the side of her breast, edging around slowly until he reached the nipple, then rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.
Her warm breath gusted over his face as she exhaled shakily. He released her, but didn’t back off, watching her intently to make sure they were both on the same page. Noting her eyes were dark with desire, he turned his attention to the side of her neck, brushing kisses along the length of it while his fingers ventured over to the smooth scar on the other side of her face. When he first touched it, she jerked away. She was skittish. About the scar, or about him? He couldn’t tell, but he shifted his kisses to her mouth, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, or give her cause to push him away.
But then her hands gripped his upper arms and she did just that. His heart plummeted. Had he gone too far? Done something she didn’t like?
“Take off your shirt,” she said, and relief eased through him. She wasn’t rejecting him. “If you get to see me, it’s only fair if I get to see you, too.”
He couldn’t argue with that logic, but he hesitated. He wasn’t golden all over like she was. Beneath his shirt, his skin was so pale he’d probably glow. He wasn’t built as solidly as Tione, or from what he’d seen in his quick Google search, as her late husband. He was lean. A runner who ate well and took care of himself but could never be mistaken for a guy who lifted weights. He hoped that didn’t put her off.
Fair was fair though, so he removed his shirt, crossed his arms over his chest, and shivered. His chill didn’t last for long. She plastered herself to his front and kissed him. Perhaps she’d sensed his uncertainty, he didn’t know, but he was grateful. Their damp bodies slid against each other, a delicious friction building as the kiss deepened. Unlike yesterday morning, it wasn’t interrupted by a wave. Hands moved frantically and gasps escaped parted lips. As their tongues danced together and he clasped her bottom tighter to him, he thought he might go insane if he didn’t get inside her soon. He wouldn’t ask for anything she didn’t want to give, but please God, let her be as desperate for him as he was for her.
“We need to get back,” she muttered.
His heart sank.
“If I don’t get you in a bed before long, I’m going to scream.”
Hallelujah.
