Does It Hurt? (22)

Rubbing my lips together, I nod my head, feeling all sorts of out of place.

The cage is suspended on a crane on the back of the boat, but he doesn’t lower it yet. I’m sure he’s going to walk me through how to get in the scuba gear and the oxygen tank first.

“Are you going to swim with them outside of the cage?” I ask.

“No. I only swim with them when they’re in my research center—and I don’t do it just for fun. You should never touch wildlife in the ocean.”

I’m definitely okay with never touching them, as long as they don’t touch me, either.

“They won’t, like, eat the boat, right?”

“Why eat the boat when they can eat you instead?”

My eyes round, and I stare at him, waiting for him to smile. He doesn’t—of course, he doesn't—but there is mirth swirling in his eyes.

“You’re joking,” I state.

“I’ve already said they don’t like the taste of us,” he reminds me.

“Sure, they’ll take a little nibble, say blech, and swim away. Meanwhile, they have my leg caught in their teeth, and I’ll live the rest of my life as a half-cyborg.”

He shrugs. “There are worse things in life than being a half-cyborg,” he says, grabbing another bucket and dumping it in the ocean.

He would know, he practically is one.

“If it’s not so bad, get in the cage and stick your toes out. Let me know how dandy it is when it’s bashing you on either side of the cage while it slowly tears your leg off.”

He grunts. “It wouldn’t be slow. Your leg would be gone before you could blink. They have incredibly powerful bites.”

So maybe he knows what he’s talking about, but I can’t get that image out of my head anyway.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go. I wouldn’t want to lose my favorite toe.”

His brow furrows. “Do I even want to know?”

I point to my pinkie toe. “It’s cute. Sharks like cute things. They eat seals. Seals are cute.”

He looks to where I’m pointing, then shakes his head at me. “I don’t think they care much about how it looks. More like how it tastes.”

“I’m talking myself out of this,” I declare, anxiety starting to make me feel a little nauseous.

“So, stop doing it.”

I purse my lips. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m going to do this. For sure.”

I’m lying again, and we both know it.

“Vieni qui,” he demands roughly, his hazel eyes searing as he reaches out his hand and motions for me to come to him.

I shiver, the beautiful lilt of his voice and its roughness gliding across my nerves.

Swallowing, I approach him and let him grab ahold of me, immediately shivering from the feel of his rough skin on mine. He directs me toward the back of the boat, where it’s an open flat ledge.

Somehow that’s even more terrifying.

“Kneel,” he whispers, his voice dipping low and reaching into the pit of my stomach where arousal is blooming.

I’m ready to question him, but then he starts to lower as well, so my body follows along without further question.

“Put your hand in the water,” he directs.

“Fuck no.”

“Nothing is going to come up and bite you. Just feel it.”

Exhaling a shuddering breath, I lean forward and brush my fingertips through the cold water.

“You’re touching an entire universe right now. A microscopic portion of a universe. It’s an ecosystem full of millions of species, some of them you couldn’t even imagine.”

His hands drift to my hips, cupping them in his large palms and squeezing, sending delicious tremors down my spine. “What you’re touching right now is sacred. It’s to be respected.”

Hot breath fans across the shell of my ear, followed by his wicked voice, “It’s to be feared.”

I swallow, my eyes fluttering when his fingers brush up my stomach, eliciting goosebumps.

A sharp gasp leaves my lips when I see something massive and gray swim beneath the surface. I jump back, bumping into Enzo, but he’s solid stone and doesn’t allow me to get very far.

“Oh my God,” I breathe when a great white shark breaks the surface only mere feet away, swallowing a large chunk of chum in the water.

“There’s another!” I squeal, noticing another great white about ten feet away.

“Mmhm,” he hums deeply, his hands wandering down to the button of my shorts. I can’t decide which to focus on—the terrifying beasts that are several feet away or what Enzo is doing.

Deftly, his fingers slip past my unbuttoned jeans and slide along the waistband of my bottoms, snagging my attention completely. Fuck the sharks, I’m more concerned about the one behind me.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, though I’m not sure if I really care.

In lieu of a response, his thumbs hook into the waistband of my shorts and bathing suit bottoms and he pulls them down as far as they’ll go.

“Take them off,” he orders, voice deeper than the ocean we’re treading on, sending another shiver rolling down my spine.

“I thought this wasn’t sex,” I say shakily.

“Do you want me to stop?”