“What did you think?”
“That you weren’t interested. That this was all too complicated for you. That—” she hesitated “—that I’m not your type. I don’t know enough about sex. I—I’m not exciting enough.”
There was a long pause.
The only sound was the soft lap of water against the side of the pool and her own breathing.
“If you were any more exciting I’d need medical attention.”
Her stomach dropped, but this time the feeling had nothing to do with fear.
The air was punctuated by a tension as unfamiliar and alien to her as th
e swimming.
“I thought— Then why—”
“Because you don’t want what I’m offering.”
“How can you possibly know what I want when you haven’t asked me?”
His gaze held hers, and in that single moment the world consisted of the two of them and nothing else.
How could a single look be so arousing?
How could he do this to her?
“Emily—” He cradled the side of her face in his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb as he looked down at her as if he was making a decision about something.
She was terrified he was going to change his mind. Walk away as he had the night before.
Instead, he lowered his head with a slow inevitability that made her wonder if anyone had ever died of anticipation.
His mouth brushed over hers with unhurried, skilled deliberation, the gentleness at odds with the leashed strength of his body. His eyes looked darker than usual, almost drowsy, clouded with emotions she found impossible to read.
And then the kiss altered. Instead of a lazy, exploratory brush of his mouth, it became hungry and urgent, and she felt the strength in his hands as he cupped her bottom and pulled her hard against him, the movement bold and blatantly sexual. She felt the hard, thick ridge of his erection through the thin fabric of her suit and the slick stroke of his tongue against hers as he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply.
Her hands gripped the brutal swell of his biceps and then slid upward over his wide shoulders and into the thickness of his hair.
He held her hard against him and kissed her with skill and purpose, the cool of the water contrasting with the heat of his mouth and the burning fire that blazed inside her. She was weightless in the water, slippery as a sea creature, and they kissed like demons, locked together and frantic.
He made a sound deep in his throat and then buried his mouth in her neck, and she tipped her head back, eyes closed, shaken and aroused as sensation ripped through her.
He backed her against the side of the pool and trapped her there. “I want you,” he growled the words against her mouth. “Can you feel how much I want you?”
Yes, she could feel it. The hard, intimate pressure of his body against hers. The rough demands of his hands and mouth.
She drove her fingers into his hair, her mouth colliding with his in a kiss that stripped away reservations and inhibitions. “I want you, too.” She felt his hand slide upward and cup the weight of her breast. Then his thumb made a slow slide over her nipple, teasing it into an aching peak until she squirmed against him, engulfed in exquisite sensation and delicious anticipation.
Her mind shut down. All of her senses were focused on him, on his hands, his mouth, on the dangerous heat that burned through her body.
She hadn’t known it was possible to want someone this much.
They were doing everything except having sex, and just when she was hoping he’d cross that line sometime very soon, there was the sound of a door in the distance, and he released her.
“We’ve got company.” His voice was husky and uneven, and he kept his hand on her waist until he was sure she was steady on her feet.
Emily looked at him dizzily, thinking that it was a good thing her feet could touch the floor of the pool; otherwise she definitely would have drowned.