Instant Gratification (Wilder #2)(39)

Looking amused, he slowly shook his head. “That’s reaching.”

Yeah. It was. Then, still looking at her, he stood up, tall and lean and damp with sweat, and her heart skipped a beat. “What are you doing?”

“Relaxing. Swimming.” He kicked off a shoe. “You remember who won, right?”

Oh, God. “Yes, but…but your brother sounded pissed. Maybe we should go back.”

“Serves him right. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Um,” she said brilliantly as he kicked off his other shoe.

“You lost,” he pointed out gently.

“Oh, that silly bet?” She swallowed hard as he lifted his T-shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. Sweet Jesus. She stared at his mouth watering chest as his fingers went to the button on his jeans. “Stone?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you wearing a bathing suit?”

“Nope.”





Chapter 13




Stone’s eyes were full of mischief and a wicked intent, both of which had the same effect on Emma’s insides as his bad boy truck. “Stone. You can’t just—”

He could, and did.

He toed off his socks.

“Yeah, now see—”

Ignoring her stammering, he unbuttoned his Levi’s, and she nearly swallowed her tongue. She’d seen him without a shirt before. On her examination table up close and personal, though of course this time he was void of all the dirt and blood. He still had some scrapes and bruises, which in no way marred the utter perfection of his broad shoulders, chest, and six-pack abs that she suddenly and inexplicably, desperately wanted to lap up like she’d lapped up the last of the chocolate.

His jeans were low-slung and loose enough that they pulled away from him, leaving a tantalizing gap that a woman could stick her entire hand down and—

“Your turn,” he said, pausing from his stripping down.

“I am not going skinny dipping with you.”

“Now here’s one thing I don’t get about women. They always make blanket statements like that, and then change their mind. Wouldn’t it be easier to say nothing at all?”

He wasn’t wearing a belt, so when he finished unbuttoning his jeans, they sank even lower, nearly to indecent levels, and she stared at what he was slowly revealing. “I don’t make blanket statements as a rule, and I always mean what I say.”

“See?” He smiled. “Another blanket statement.”

“I do mean what I say. Look, it’s…late. I need to go back.”

“It’s seven thirty.”

“Almost my bedtime.”

“You said you were hot,” he pointed out reasonably.

Yes. Yes she was hot. Holy smokes…

He added one of those panty-melting smiles. Oh God, she was in trouble.

“I’m simply offering you the solution to your problem,” he said.

“Yes,” she managed. “While creating a whole new one.”

“Which would be?” he asked innocently.

Ha! “You. Naked.”

He shoved off his jeans and kicked them aside, leaving him in a pair of dark blue knit boxers that clung to his tough thighs and lean hips. When she managed to lift her gaze to meet his, she found his eyes both hot and amused.

If she thought she’d been sweating before…

Then, without a word, he turned from her, stepped a few feet into the lake water and dove in.

Vanishing beneath the smooth surface with hardly a splash.

A few drops hit her and they were so deliciously, deliriously cool, she actually moaned. Goddammit.

He surfaced facing her, just his perfect chest, shoulders, and head popping out of the water. He shook his head, and water went flying. He looked at her, hair crazy, face streaming water, smile so contagious she had to work to keep solemn. “Stone—”

“You lost.”

“Yes, but—”

Still smiling sweetly, he pushed his hand through the water, and splashed her.

Right in the face.

“Hey!”

He arched a brow.

She let out a breath, torn between indignation and utter bliss—because God, the water felt amazing. “What if I’d straightened my hair and didn’t want it wet? What if I was wearing makeup?”

“Did you? Are you?”

“No. But still—”

He splashed her again, and that was it. He was going down. She yanked off her shirt and tossed it to the ground while she kicked off her shoes at the same time. “You are so going to get it.”

“Promises, promises.”

Leaving her plain black cotton bra in place, she shoved down her trousers. Her equally plain cotton bikini panties weren’t any prettier than the bra, but she didn’t happen to care much about lingerie. She cared about comfort. Right now she was uncomfortably hot and uncomfortably worked up. She stalked toward the water, ready to rumble.

His gaze had all but glued itself to her body. His mouth had fallen open a little, as if he needed it that way just to breathe. His eyes were eating her up, caressing her body as if she was the best thing he’d ever seen, and if she hadn’t been so overheated, with adrenaline pumping through her instead of blood, she might have been flattered. “Prepare to die.”