“Yes, you are,” he insists. “Difficulty speaking, heavy breathing, I get it. My naked body usually causes this reaction.”
Caught.
“Let’s start the session,” I say in a serious tone. “You are wasting your hard-earned money talking.”
Max is beside me after two strokes across the water. “It’s worth it to see you blush.”
“What are you doing?” I whisper to him. “Saturday we agreed on….” My voice trails off as I realize we didn’t actually agree on anything. I just word vomited my romantic failures, and Max said nothing.
A devilish smile takes form on his face. “We agreed on nothing. I thought long and hard about you this weekend.”
I ignore the way my body sizzles long and hard at his words. Swallowing, I say, “Care to share any conclusions you’ve reached?”
Max purses his lips as if considering it. “Nah, I think I’ll let you fret a little longer. You look delicious when you do it. How about we start the exercises?”
Going through the session proves to be a challenge. The routine for water exercises resembles the one for normal exercises, in that I first perform the exercise, and then my patient repeats it, and I stand nearby, making sure they perform the exercises correctly. The major difference is that a layer of clothing is missing now. Which means I get to stare at and touch Max’s bare skin for an hour. Sixty minutes that are both torture and bliss. I sense his gaze on me the entire time, which heats up every nerve ending in my body. Putting some distance between us would be a good idea, except I can’t since I’m guiding him through the moves. If I’m honest, I’m not sure distance would help. I can feel his presence even when he is across a room.
“You did that on purpose,” I accuse when Max does a simple exercise wrong for the fifth time.
“What? I just don’t know how to do the exercise.”
“You can’t do a simple leg bend?” I counter.
He shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Max is enjoying himself immensely. “I’ll do it much better if your hand is on my thigh.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, keeping my hands firmly behind my back. “What’s gotten into you today?”
“You’re standing in this pool, looking irresistible, and all I can think about is how fucking incredible you tasted on Saturday.”
I think I might have had a mini orgasm just from hearing him speak like this.
“Max, please do your exercises.”
As he finally complies with my request, I step back, feeling victorious. Except then I see the way his chest and ripped muscles contort, and I realize I’m the one who lost.
“You survived the session,” I announce when he’s done. “You’re free to go.”
“I have an idea. Let’s race. Twenty pool laps.”
“I do laps every day. You can’t keep up.”
“Wanna bet?”
This makes me pay attention. I should have known he has an ulterior motive. “What’s the bet?”
“I win, I get to kiss you again.”
His gaze is heated, but I feel bold. “I win, you don’t mention kissing again. Ever. And I get to kick your ass.”
“Deal.”
“Fine, let’s do this. Prepare yourself, Bennett.”
I swim with a vengeance, putting one arm in front of the other, propelling myself forward. I am consciously aware I’m not going at my full speed. When I finally touch the end of the pool, I pull myself up, gazing around me. There is a twinge of disappointment as I see Max a few feet behind me. Maybe some part of me wanted to lose. Goddammit.
Max notices I won and stops swimming, instead straightening up and walking toward me, the water rippling around him, caressing his skin. I can’t help noticing the way the sinewy lines of his abs flex when he moves.
He advances until he’s inches away from me, completely invading my personal space. He’s so close my breasts squish against his chest. Instantly my nipples turn to stone. His arms are at my side, palms firmly planted on the edge of the pool. Being trapped between his arms gives me a sense of security, which is ridiculous, because I’m in danger of falling for his charms.