“It’s just one drink. My first of the night. Come have a little fun.”
I hesitated. It had been so much harder to be close to her and alcohol at the same time. Like the temptation was magnified. If I kissed her, I could taste both of the things I’d forbidden myself to have.
She said, “Or I can just catch up with you later.”
She leaned away, and I got over my hesitation pretty quickly. Temptation, be damned. I gripped her waist and pulled her back to me.
“Okay, let’s go.”
I stifled my thoughts of concern and told myself that I could handle it.
Her. The alcohol. All of it.
“Your new friend seems a little reluctant to leave you.”
She looked ahead of us to where the other guy had now joined the group around her friend Jenny.
“He’ll get over it. We literally met like two minutes ago.”
“I know. I saw you when you came in.”
Her head snapped toward me, and her expression was worth admitting that I’d been watching her.
“I really enjoyed that little spin move you did while you were trying to hide.”
“I wasn’t hiding. I just . . .”
She floundered, trying to come up with something, and it was so damn adorable.
“Okay.” She rolled her eyes. “So I was hiding. It’s not every day I make a fool of myself. I wasn’t exactly excited about rehashing that.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
I didn’t know why it was so much fun to rile her up. Call it payback for her unknowingly torturing me for weeks. Or maybe it was the fire in her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
I raised my eyebrows in response.
“It’s a room full of women in bikinis. What do you think I’m doing here?”
Her lips twisted into something resembling a pout.
“I meant what are you doing here? With me.”
We reached the stairs leading out of the pool. She stepped up and out of the water, and seeing her slick skin, her suit clinging tight to her curves, was nearly the death of me. I was turned on, and there was no way she didn’t know it.
Her ni**les showed through the fabric of her swimsuit, and I wasn’t sure whether that was from the cooler air or from me, but I knew which one I wanted it to be.
My throat was scratchy with desire as I asked, “What was the question?”
“I asked what you were doing here with me.”
I sensed her nervousness again, and it went straight to my head.
“Oh, you mean you asked a stupid question?”
She frowned. “You still haven’t answered it.”
“Yes, well.” I reached out one finger, trailing through the drops of water collecting along her collarbone. “You make it hard to think straight.”
Her eyes lit up, and she pulled me after her. “Come on, soldier. You can finish staring at me at the bar. I promise I’m not going to disappear.”
I took a deep breath and forced myself to look away from the curve of her ass.
“Stupid. So incredibly stupid,” I mumbled to myself.
She led me to one of three bars that had been set up inside the domed thermal-bath building. The rest of her group had gone ahead of us and had already claimed a section of barstools. I gladly took a seat on one as soon as we were close enough.
Kelsey leaned over the bar, and I was exceptionally glad that I was sitting down.
“Gin bitter lemon,” she told the bartender. Then she looked back at me. “What do you want?”
“Nothing. I’m good.”
I took a deep breath. I had to stay good.
She rolled her eyes and said, “Make that two gin bitter lemons.”
I swallowed. This was a bad idea. I should get up and leave now, make some excuse. But that swimsuit . . . Heaven help me, but I am a weak man.
I dipped two fingers under the strap at her hips and pulled her back toward me. She fit perfectly between my knees. Resting her elbows on my thighs, she leaned back into my chest, and I barely resisted planting my lips on her neck.
I could flirt with her without taking it too far. I wasn’t in high school anymore. I had some control.
Needing to ease some tension, I said, “Whatever happens tonight—”
“Yes?”
“Don’t throw up in the pool.”
She pulled away from me, half scowling, half smiling. And even though my body ached at the loss of contact, I knew it was for the best.
I laughed, trying not to betray the tension that was plaguing me.
“Just for that, funny guy . . . you’re buying.”
When the drinks came, I did as ordered and rose to pay. She stole my stool while I did, and when the bartender handed over the drinks, it all felt too familiar.
I handed her a glass, and then began the worst battle with temptation so far. It was there in my hand, only inches away from my lips. And it would be so simple to let it happen. The memory of it was still trapped in my muscles, and I could feel them straining to lift the glass to my lips.
“So, Hunt. Where are you from?”
Distraction. Yes. Perfect.
“Where am I not from would be the easier question.”
“Military brat?”
I wished. Dad just went where the money was.
Trying to keep things light, I said, “Are you calling me a brat?”
She crossed her legs, and my eyes followed.
“If I were going to call you names, brat would not be my first choice.”