Just My Type(59)

“I honestly don’t know how you can stand looking at him,” Dax says with a straight face.

“It’s a chore; let me tell you.” I sigh dramatically.

“You’re doing the Lord’s work.” Dax nods.

“All right, eat shit, both of you,” Baker finally mutters, making me laugh. “Thanks for sneaking us in here after hours.”

Baker lifts his arm up and holds his hand out toward Dax. “I think we’re even now.”

Dax hesitates for a minute before he bends over to grab Baker’s hand, shaking it once before dropping it and taking a step back to shove his hands in his pockets.

“We’ll never be even. I’m alive, because of you,” Dax says.

“You’re alive, because you pulled your head out of your ass,” Baker replies, the two of them having a stare-down, which indicates they’ve had this conversation before. “We’re even.”

When we first got here, Dax had been wearing black athletic pants and a long-sleeved, high-neck, black swim shirt. Now, he’s wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a T-shirt. Both of his arms from where his T-shirt ends, down to the tops of his hands are covered with tattoos. I can also see some ink peeking out of the edge of his shorts on one leg, and the entire calf on his other leg is also covered with vivid, colorful markings.

“God, now you made this weird and all emotional,” Dax complains. “I’m not hugging you.”

“Good. You get too handsy when you hug anyway,” Baker tells him, as Dax starts walking backward away from the pool.

“I’m heading home in a few minutes after I put the kids to bed. The door you came in will lock on your way out. Take your time. I’ll see you at the gym this weekend.” Dax holds two fingers up to his forehead and gives Baker a salute before turning and disappearing inside the building, the heavy black door slamming closed behind him.

My chin is still resting on my hands on the edge of the pool, as I lazily kick my legs out behind me, not ready to leave this private little oasis just yet.

“I don’t know if you remember,” Baker speaks, mirroring my pose, our elbows touching as our legs gently glide through the water behind us. “But Dax was in the ring the first day you came to the gym.”

I think back to that day, and I can’t believe I didn’t recognize Dax as being one of the guys I saw boxing. I’m assuming it was probably because it was the day I met Baker for the first time in person and found out he wasn’t just a brainless gym rat. I was more than a little preoccupied.

“He holds the gym boxing title. He’s a beast when he gets in there.”

“I’m guessing that wasn’t always the case,” I reply, knowing that since they met at The Barracks, Dax has a similar history to Baker in regards to being wounded in action.

“Definitely not. It took a lot of months for Dax to get his shit together and realize he could be just as much of a badass now as he could before he got too close to a roadside bomb. Those tattoos aren’t there just because he likes colorful skin. And honestly, him joking with you like that, even if he did it with absolutely no humor, was a fucking shock. Dax doesn’t make jokes. I don’t even think he knows how to smile. But that’s a story for another time. He’s a stubborn asshole, which is why he still thinks he owes me.”

“Well, if his owing you means we get future otter playtime, I say let it be.”

Baker chuckles at me as I put my feet on the bottom of the pool, standing up until the water is at my stomach. As soon as I place my hands on the edge of the pool, I feel Baker move up behind me. His arms come around me and he rests his hands on the edge of the pool on either side of mine, caging me in. He’s standing close enough that I feel the heat from his chest against my back, but he’s holding himself just far enough away that we’re not touching.

For the love of God, touch me already!

“Are you done being nervous around me now?” Baker asks softly, his lips right by my ear.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I whisper, a small whimper coming out of me when his lips suddenly press against the side of my neck.

He opens his mouth, grazing his teeth gently against the skin there before reattaching his lips, his tongue swirling around that spot against my neck that I had no clue led right to my vagina.

“The car ride here proves otherwise,” he speaks against the flesh of my neck, trailing kisses down to my shoulder, his arms still caging me in, and the rest of his body having no contact with mine. “I think you held your breath the entire way.”

My scoff comes out as a choked, breathy moan when Baker removes one of his hands from the edge of the pool and slides it around the front of me, his big hand wrapping around my opposite side and holding onto me. Which is good, since my knees are about to give out.

His mouth is kissing its way back up my neck, and by some sort of crazy willpower I didn’t even know I possessed, I remember how to speak.

“I was only nervous, because you were being all weird, and quiet.”

Baker’s mouth stops right at that super sensitive spot behind my ear, and he pulls his head back, making me want to growl at the loss.

“I knew you’d be nervous, which is why I brought you here. I wanted you to get out of your head and just have fun,” he tells me, as I turn my head back and look at him over my shoulder.