“Depends on who you ask.”
“Get naked and get in here so I can have my way with you,” he orders.
“And if I don’t?”
He pulls me into the water, and I wrap my legs around his waist. My arms drape over his shoulders, and I feel myself smiling like some foolish idiot who’s decided to gamble her heart despite knowing better.
Zane’s fingers tug at the ties around my neck and back until my top falls into the water and floats away. Next he works at my bikini bottoms until I’m completely naked, embraced by his warm salt-water pool and the intensity of his body heat.
Reaching beneath the water’s surface, I yank his shorts off, my hand grazing across his hard cock.
“You don’t waste any time, do you?” I tease, gripping his hardness in my palm and pumping the length.
His lips crush mine, water lapping around us, and he pulls us both lower. I taste the salt on his skin and the mint on his tongue, and all I can think about is how amazing I’m going to feel the second he’s thrusting everything he has inside everything I have.
“Can anyone see us back here?” I whisper against his mouth.
“No, baby,” he says. “It’s private. It’s just us.”
He grips my hips, pulling me closer against him as I release my hold on his throbbing hardness. We’re touching under water, his cock pressing the outside of my sex like an unconventional definition of cock tease.
“I want you,” I whisper, fully owning the fact that once again, I’m completely powerless.
Zane de la Cruz takes me from good girl to bad in three point seven seconds, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the most exhilarating feeling I’ve ever known.
“You going to be my naughty girl tonight?” His voice is deep, reverberating through his chest and against mine.
I nod, biting my lip before kissing him again.
“Tell me how bad you want me,” he commands.
“So bad.” I kiss him. “I want you so bad . . . I want you inside me.”
“I’m going to make you come so hard you can’t breathe, gorgeous,” he growls. “I’m going to fuck you harder tonight than I ever have because I want you to know you’re mine. I don’t want you to forget. This sweet pussy of yours belongs to me. No one but me, do you understand?”
I nod, pressing my lips against his strained, muscled neck as my hands wash down his chiseled chest.
“I mean it, Delilah.” He stops until my gaze meets him. “Your body belongs to me and only me.”
My head tilts. “Fine. Then it’s only fair that your cock is my property too.”
Glancing up, I notice a security camera trained on the backyard and another pointed at the pool.
“Are those things on?” I ask.
“Always,” he says.
“Are we being recorded?”
“The tapes are deleted once a week automatically,” he says. “I’m the only one who has access to them. I have to have a security system, Delilah. Now, come on. I’m dying here.”
His lips inch at the sides, and he lets me slide down his body. His hands on my hips, he turns me to face a jet along the pool wall. Positioning my body in the right spot, he ensures the air stream blows against my clit just enough to heighten this entire experience, as if it weren’t already incredible.
“Spread your legs, gorgeous,” he says into my ear, pressing the head of his cock between my ass and dragging it lower. “Let me remind you why you came here and why it is you can’t stay away no matter how hard you try.”
* * *
Our naked bodies are wrapped in warm beach towels as I lie in his arms in a swinging hammock. The humid Florida heat blankets us as the salt water evaporates from our skin.
He smells like summer.
Like suntan lotion and coconut and sea salt and aftershave. And his skin is warm and soft beneath my palms, wrapped over a layer of muscles fit for a professional football player.
I get it.
And I’ll never judge another ball bunny again.
Football players are sexy and strong and virile, and I’m pretty sure the big hands to big cock correlation is more fact that fiction.
A symphony of crickets and bullfrogs fill the quiet night as stars light the sky above us. This is a million times more romantic than it should be, but I can’t bring myself to leave yet. I’m comfortable here in his arms. And his fingers are tracing circles into my shoulders and my ear is pressed into his chest and it just feels . . . amazing.
Daphne was right. Nothing amazing ever happens when you sit at home.
“I like us when we’re not fighting,” he says, breaking the silence.
I look up at him. “That came out of nowhere.”
He shrugs. “Just making an observation.”
“I’ve never had pool sex before.”
“That’s random.”
“Just making an observation.” I flash him a smile.
“Glad I could be the one to pop your pool-sex cherry.”
“That sounds disgusting.” My tongue pokes from between my teeth.
“It sounded better in my head.” He kisses the top of my forehead. I’m not sure why or if he even notices he did it.
“So you’re from Chicago?” I ask after a minute of silence.
“Are we doing this?” he asks.
“Doing what?”
“The whole getting-to-know-you thing?”
“What’s wrong with that?” I sit up, careening my body toward him until our gazes lock. “I’m curious about you, that’s all.”