Spiked

“Naked?”

“Is that a request?”

I pressed my lips together. Yes, I most definitely did want to see Jacob Everett naked. But I definitely wasn’t going to say that out loud. When I didn’t answer, Jacob lifted his eyebrows at me mysteriously, then let his pants fall. To both my relief and sadness, he was wearing boxers underneath. He kicked his way out of the pants and then dove into the pool.

“Careful!” I shouted— it was a shallow pool, and my cautious instincts kicked the word from my mouth just before I realized Jacob had made the dive shallow, sending him slipping through the water just under the surface. He did a turn and emerged, glistening, on the other side.

“Coming?” he asked, shaking the water from his hair.

I took a breath. Swimming with a football star in a fancy pool was not exactly something I did on the regular. But Jacob looked so damn beautiful standing there, and I couldn’t deny the excitement, the heat that was kindling in me at the thought of being in the water with him. He was almost drug-like; at that first party, I’d just wanted more eye contact. After our walk, I wanted his hand on mine again. Now, that wouldn’t do— I wanted to be beside him, wanted to let my fingers brush against the muscles of his back.

Besides, bras and panties weren’t all that different than bikinis, right?

My fingers shook nervously as I carefully wrapped my arm around my back and tugged the zipper of my dress down. It went loose around my shoulders; when I looked back to Jacob, I saw he was watching, unflinching, waiting for the moment the fabric fell away.

I wanted him looking, I realized, and even though the thought embarrassed me, it also elated me. I shrugged my shoulders and my dress slipped down to the floor.

Jacob made a noise— a sort of satisfied, quiet groan. I stepped away from the puddle of my clothing and walked to the staircase that lead into the water. I stepped in cautiously, letting it cool me, though even the water’s temperature wasn’t enough to quench the now steady fire in my chest.

“Come over here,” Jacob said. He was so calm, so steady, and it made me incredibly aware of how jittery I felt. I lowered myself deeper into the water and swam toward him, stopping a few feet away.

Jacob let his eyes wander down my body unapologetically. My first instinct was to cover the areas I was least confident about— my stomach, mostly, which wasn’t nearly as ripped and tight as his. But there was something about the way he was looking at me that made me feel more sure of myself— more certain that he wasn’t judging, but rather, appreciating.

“Closer,” he said, nodding to me. I took a step. “Closer,” he said again. I took another.

“One more,” he said, and this time, it was a question— but not one I wanted to say no to, not when I knew that one step closer would mean my body against his.

I took the step and, almost instantly, Jacob wrapped his arms around mine, able to fully encircle me, trap him among muscles and strength and that sandalwood scent that had intoxicated me at the party so many weeks before.

I let out a small, unintentional moan, and had to stifle a second one when I felt Jacob’s body twitch at the sound. The idea that he was reacting to me the way I was reacting to him felt impossible, almost dream-like, but when I dared to lift my arms and place them against his sides, there was no denying that his breath quickened.

He ran one hand down my back, gently— though even when he touched me lightly, I could still feel his strength, how much power he was holding back— then ran the other up my side, to my shoulder, to my chin, tilting my head back.

He was going to kiss me. He was going to kiss me, and my body began to shake even harder from the want of it. Jacob’s lips curved into a smile— there was no hiding my shaking, not pressed to him like this, though he pulled me even tighter. Close enough to feel his cock pressed against my stomach, harder than any of the muscles in his body.

I stretched tall to bring my lips to his faster, and then we were kissing, his mouth as powerful as the rest of his body, urging me to let go, to let his tongue past my lips. I did, and as his tongue played against mine, I found myself lifting my legs from the water and wrapping them around his waist. I wasn’t entirely certain how I knew to do that— how I was so confident he would lift me higher— but it was like we were connected, programmed to fit each other.