Four Seconds to Lose (Ten Tiny Breaths #3)(82)
When her soft, musical laughter fills the air, I realize she’s teasing me. “Go on, Charlie,” Storm instructs, shooing me away with a hand and a smile, her hungry eyes on the pie. “I’ll join you, shortly.”
With a nod, I excuse myself, making a beeline to slip into the refreshing pool, conscious that the blue of my bathing suit is light enough to showcase any wet spots I may have acquired due to Cain’s attention. My body revels in the slight shock of the cool water as it swathes my skin, taking my temperature down a few degrees. I wish I didn’t have all this makeup on. I wish I could just stick my head in.
I swim to the other end of the oversized pool to discover a separate little spa, complete with jets to massage my tired, achy muscles. Hoisting myself over and in, I lie back and quietly take in the scene. Kacey is floating stomach-down on an air mattress, her attention glued to Trent, who is hanging off one corner. Ginger is chattering away at Nate, whose enormous body—solid with muscle—takes up two-thirds of the staircase.
Storm and Dan really do have a great life here. I can’t help but feel like an intruder—accepting their warmth and hospitality, eating their food, laughing with their friends.
Keeping Dan employed.
Still, I could see myself living in this world—coming to barbeques, hanging out with these people, working for Storm at her school.
Being with Cain.
If only I could get away from Sam, truly put it all in the past.
If only . . .
Twenty minutes of jets massaging my muscles later, as sleep taunts me between occasional hollers from Ginger, I hear the patio door open and close. I lift my head in time to see Cain’s side profile exit.
My body instantly comes alive as I watch the muscles of that molded body—the body I was entwined with last night—shift with each step upon his approach. He changed into a pair of swim trunks that hang dangerously low on that sexy V-shaped pelvis that I knew he must have but am only now getting a good look at. As muscular as Cain is, he’s in no way beefy. His frame is on the athletic side, complete with pectoral muscles that don’t look more like br**sts, veins that add dimension to his arms, and an exquisite eight-pack that is almost unreal.
I force myself to blink, hard, to relieve the sudden strain in my eyes.
His eyes lock on my location, and then Cain’s sleek body vanishes into the deep end of the pool in an elegant dive. Is there anything he doesn’t do extremely well? I fold my arms over the divide and rest my chin on them, waiting with heady anticipation as his long form moves underwater toward me, emerging less than a foot away. He folds his arms lightly over mine. He’s so close to me that I would only have to shift slightly to kiss him.
“Relaxed?”
I’m not sure how to answer that, because I’m both relaxed and suddenly conscious of every nerve ending in my body. I dare maneuver a hand free and run a finger along his chin. “You look good with scruff,” I remark casually.
With that dangerous gleam in his eyes that I saw last night, he leans over to whisper in my ear, “You look good, wet.”
My breath hitches. I hadn’t expected that level of brazenness out of him. After last night, I’m not sure why not.
He uses his powerful arms to hoist himself onto the wall. I shift back to give him room as he lithely slides into the spa with me. He loops an arm around my waist and pulls me onto his lap with no delay, reaching down to slide a finger under the material of my top.
I think I’m getting to see yet another side of Cain. A dangerously playful one that chills out with friends and takes what he wants. And taunts me.
“Cain!” I hiss, more in surprise than anything else. I push his hand away as I nod toward the others, though there’s no way they can see what’s happening in the tiny spa, thanks to the little wall and the sheer size of the pool. I doubt any of them would say anything, anyway. Except for Ben, of course, but he hasn’t exited the house yet. “Contrary to what you obviously think, I prefer privacy.”
A flicker of amusement touches his Cain’s lips before disappearing. Stretching his arms out on either side of him along the curved wall, he tips his head back and closes his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m not a pervert.”
His Adam’s apple is jutting out at a sexy sharp angle and I can’t help myself. I reach up and slowly drag my finger along the bump, feeling it move with his hard swallow. When I reach the base of his throat, I don’t stop, continuing down to begin tracing his hard muscles and the patterned tattoos adorning his chest.
I fight the urge to slide my hand farther down, to see how much this is affecting him. Knowing I can elicit such a reaction from a man like Cain is as much a turn-on as having him actually touch me.
His eyes open to watch me as I quietly study him. “I’m glad you came today, Charlie. I thought maybe . . . ” His voice drifts off for a moment as I see his jaw clench. “ . . . that was it.” There’s that look—the same one I saw last night, when he asked me if I was sure. If I was sure of being with him. As if there were any possible reason anyone wouldn’t be over-the-moon thrilled to have Cain’s affections.
His words feel like a punch to my stomach as a conflicting swirl of emotions slams into me. Guilt because he’s right; that was supposed to be it! Anguish that I may have wounded him. Bitterness for the looming expiration date hanging over our heads. Overwhelming desire to erase his doubts right here, right now.