Worth It (Forbidden Men 6)

It’d been okay at first, like sharing aunt and uncle custody. She’d only wanted to get to know her niece. I was cool with that. But Felicity impressed the hell out of me on a daily basis. She wasn’t like any Bainbridge I’d ever met before. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. She didn’t put on airs and stare down her nose at me. She didn’t think all high and mighty of herself. She didn’t treat me like a nobody.

In fact, I don’t think anyone had ever treated me the way Felicity treated me, or looked at me the way she looked at me. Like I was something special. Like I was someone.

Her being one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen didn’t help ease my obsession with her, either. Which

is probably why I kissed her, even if that had been the stupidest thing I’d ever done, because now I was well and truly addicted, and there was no turning back from where this was headed.

But, fuck...it’d been worth it.

Her lips, her soft cheeks, her hair. I couldn’t wait to see her again.

So, here I sat, restless and eager for today’s rendezvous, even though I knew I should stay as far away from her as possible.

The slap of flip-flops on the dock behind me made my heart jump-start into high gear. A grin tugged at my lips. Of course she’d worn flip-flops through the woods. Only the most impractical shoes for my practical girl.

Except she wasn’t mine, and I shouldn’t forget that.

I wanted to whirl around and take in every inch of her. The craving was so strong I gripped the ledge harder until a splinter dug into my palm.

Because I did want to see her so desperately, I refused to even rotate my head enough to catch a glimpse. Keeping my back stiff, I asked, “Did you bring a suit?”

Her steps paused a few feet behind me. “Yes.”

“Then let’s swim.” I pushed off the dock and dove into the water, relishing the initial rush of cold flooding me, cooling my heated thoughts.

I swam out a ways under the surface before coming up for air. Shoving water out of my face and hair, I turned toward the dock to find her still standing there, holding a beach bag down at her side and wearing a long-ass T-shirt, no shorts, shades, and flip-flops.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” I called, waving her in to join me.

She continued to hesitate. I could see her chew on her bottom lip all the way from where I floated. A part of me hoped she turned and ran. This thing, whatever it was, between us could only lead to trouble. But a majority of me ached for her to throw caution to the wind and just dive in.

“Is it deep?” she asked.

“Very.”

Nodding, Felicity set her bag down beside her and slipped off her glasses before dropping them into the bag. Then her hand went to the hem of her shirt. I held my breath, waiting, anxious, hoping yet dreading. She lifted the cloth a few inches, exposing creamy white thighs. When she hesitated, I almost passed out because the peek she provided of that place where the top of her legs met up with her body was too much. It was covered in nothing but snug black Lycra and showed just enough of a gap between her thighs, I knew I could barely wedge my face in there perfectly.

Instant hard-on.

I wanted to invade that space, own it and make it mine. Not even the iciness of the pit could dampen how desperately my dick wanted to explore. But I was still grateful to be underwater so she couldn’t see proof of just how much my teenage hormones wanted her.

I didn’t cajole or say a single thing to get her to join me, but she gave in to the temptation, anyway, and suddenly ripped the shirt the rest of the way over her head before letting it fall on top of her beach bag.

My throat went dry. She was utterly breathtaking in a lanky yet graceful way. I had never wanted anyone the way I wanted her.

“Black suit,” I managed to croak. After clearing my throat, I added, “Smart thinking.”

God, had I just said something? I think I’d just said something, and it’d been really stupid.

But Felicity sent me a smile anyway, making me feel like the fucking man. “I didn’t want to stain anything.”

I knew she was talking about clothes, but all I could think was how meeting me out here alone in the woods could stain her reputation, and I almost told her to go home. But then she toed off her flip-flops, and even that affected me, reminding me of how it’d felt to hold her ankle in my hand the day before. She’d had such soft, perfect skin. I didn’t want her going anywhere but into the water, with me.

Her red hair glistened in the sunlight as she eased hesitantly toward the edge of the dock. I had no idea how she managed to make the locks look as wild as they were tame, but the mix of controlled chaos only made me more obsessed with it.

I’m pretty sure I’d managed to get my hands in her hair every time we’d met in the woods so far. And she’d let me. That was what made my craving for her grow stronger. She might be an innocent and not want what I ultimately wanted, which was sex of course—teenage boy here, remember—but she still felt the vibe between us. The pull. The chemistry. And I’d bet money it was just as intense for her as it was for me.

Not that I would act on it. Ever. She was only fifteen. I was eighteen. Her family was the enemy. I was too poor to even be able to treat her out to a decent date. And fuck, I wasn’t much more experienced than she was. But that didn’t stop me from wanting her, or using her face in my head as inspiration every morning when I jerked off in the shower.