When we get to the condo he’s already got his key out and doesn’t let me go as he unlocks it, shoulders the door open, pulls me through. Pushes me up against the wall as it clicks shut, pulling the belt from my robe so hard I’m afraid he might rip it.
“I still haven’t come in a hot tub,” I murmur as he cover my mouth with his.
I grab his robe, pull him into me. Push it from his shoulders and let it fall.
“That’s your sisters’ fault, not mine,” he says, nips at my bottom lip. “Or was getting off while people talk about golf a fantasy and not a disaster scenario?”
His hands are inside the robe, hot on my cold skin, and I shiver. He pulls at my swimsuit again, roughly this time, the muscles in his forearms cording as both breasts pop out.
I laugh, raspy, his lips already on my throat, his fingers rolling my nipples again so hard it almost hurts. Almost.
“Disaster,” I say, and the robe falls off, pools around my feet. “I’d much rather come along with you.”
He chuckles, breath hot against my neck. Teeth scrape skin. A tiny, brief flash of pain, and his mouth.
“Seth,” I murmur. “Don’t leave —”
He doesn’t stop as he covers my mouth with a hand.
“You think I don’t know my way around you by now, Bird?”
I lick his palm in response, salt and chlorine. He twists his hand, brushes a thumb across my lips. Straightens, kisses the spot beneath my ear, sucks the lobe into his mouth.
“If I leave a mark it’s because I mean to,” he says, guttural as dirt.
I find his cock through his swim trunks, press my hand against it and the cold, wet fabric warm in seconds with his heat.
“And why would you mean that?” I ask.
Seth drives his hips into me, and I squeeze. Grab his shoulder from behind with my other hand, the muscle thick and hard, and I sink my teeth in.
Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to get a gasp and a growl and an extra twist of the nipple he’s still pinching.
“Because I like finding them later,” he says. His voice is a harsh whisper, and I let his cock go, tug at the laces holding his swim trunks on. “And I like thinking about you finding them and remembering what a good time you had.”
I tug. The laces come free, velcro tears apart, the shorts fall off, his cock springs out.
He kisses me fiercely, my hand circling him again, stroking. His length is hard and hot against my thigh, and Seth groans so loudly that I hope no one’s walking by outside.
“Off,” he says, and pulls at my bathing suit, tugging the straps over my shoulders and down, mouth never relenting. I untangle my arms, pull them free, push at the wet fabric still covering my hips.
“Fucking wet spandex,” I hiss, wriggling. “I swear, it’s —"
I wriggle and it’s finally over my thighs, my knees, and then I stomp and kick and half-turn and nearly fall over because there’s never been anything less sexy than getting out of a swimsuit, and Seth grabs my arm, catches me.
“There,” I gasp, just as he pushes me against the wall again, only this time I’m facing it and I gasp at the contact, my skin already puckered from being wet and cold, my fists clenched over my head.
He pulls at my hips, fingers sinking into flesh, mouth on the back of my neck and cock pressed against my lower back. His hands roam, feeling me like we’ve never touched before.
Then, he pauses. He stills his hands against my ribs, and they feel white-hot.
“You’re freezing,” he says.
“I’m fine,” I say, even though he’s right, every inch of my flesh goosebumped.
He doesn’t move his hands again.
“Um, there’s a thermostat,” I say, very much not thinking about the thermostat.
His lips move slowly against my neck, like he’s thinking.
Then he smacks my ass, steps away, grabs my hand.
“C’mon,” he says, and pulls me to the bathroom.
He pushes me against the sink. Tweaks a nipple.
“Don’t move,” he says, and steps to the glass-walled shower, reaches in, starts the water.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I tease.
He frowns, flips a knob.
“I just did.”
I lean back, into the counter. I prop a foot against the cabinet, my eyes glued to Seth, slide my hand down my belly, over my thigh. He turns at my sharp inhale and looks back at me, rubbing my clit with one hand.
“I’ve never been good at following directions,” I say, the words exhaled in a rush. I’m even wetter than I realized, so sensitive that I’m already on edge.
If Seth wasn’t feral before, he is now. He glances into the shower one more time, steam already pouring from the stall, crosses the small bathroom toward me. Takes my hand by the wrist and anchors both of them onto the counter, pressing my palms into the cool stone.