As I approached the Christakis estate, I spotted a wet, shirtless Santo. Water glistened on his bronzed, tattooed shoulders as he bent over Zeus, who stood under a hose. The dog was covered in suds, looking disgruntled but patient.
“Stasou akinitos, thirio,” Santo laughed.Stand still, you beast. You’re the one who decided to roll in something dead.
Zeus woofed and shook vigorously, sending soapy water into Santo’s face. He cursed, then burst into laughter.
I should have announced myself, but I stood transfixed. Water streamed down his back, tracing muscle beneath tattooed skin. My fingers tingled with an urge to follow its path.
Zeus’s head swiveled in my direction. His tail thrashed, sending water everywhere as he barked joyfully and lunged toward me.
Santo turned, startled, water dripping from his eyelashes. We stared at each other.
“Tia,” he said finally, making no move to retrieve his shirt. “How did it go?”
“They said I gotta come back in a week,” I sighed.
A soapy Zeus plastered his wet body against my legs. I laughed, scratching his ears despite the water soaking my clothes.
“He likes you,” Santo observed quietly.
“The feeling’s mutual,” I said, smiling down at the dog. When I looked up, Santo was still watching me. “So... about that whole job thing?”
“Ναι?”Yes?
“I’m in.”
A slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features. “Welcome to the team, Tia Massey,” he said simply.
Zeus barked as if in agreement. And just like that, my summer—and maybe my life—had taken a very unexpected turn.
8
My hand gripped the cyclic, savoring the control beneath my palm. The helicopter’s engine’s vibration thrummed up through my body as we soared over the Aegean toward Thalassía. Heights never made my dick throb, but Tia, sitting inches away, did.
I hadn’t told her how hard I’d fought to get her this contract. My father had been incredulous at the suggestion of hiring a recent graduate for a multi-million euro restoration. It had taken hours of negotiation, promises of personal oversight, and ultimately, a significant concession.
When the project was complete, I would take my position at Olympus Motors and abandon the racing circuit. A steep price, but one I’d paid willingly. Keeping Tia in Greece was the perfect piece of my revenge.
Tia pretended to focus on her diagrams, lips pursed, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration. But every jolt of turbulence made her jump, her thigh brushing mine, her eyes darting to the controls and then quickly away from me. I could almost taste her nerves.
When she’d realized I’d be the pilot, she’d tried to hide her panic. Now, she iced herself behind blueprints and professionalism, but her not having flipped a page once since getting in the air betrayed her.
“You know,” I teased, through the headset, “I have treatments for that.”
She glanced up, a crease between her brows. Her voice was soft, intimate through the headphones. “Treatments for what?”
“Chronic nerdism. It can be cured. I’ll administered the therapy myself.”
Without warning, I slid my hand onto her thigh, my fingers digging into the soft denim. She gasped, but didn’t pull away.
“Santo,” she breathed, her voice hitching as my hand moved higher. I popped the button on her jeans, sliding the zipper down. “What are you doing? We’re in the air.”
“Healing you,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the horizon.
My hand slipped inside her pants, fingers tracing the edge of her cotton underwear. She was already wet, her heat radiating through the fabric.
Her breath came in short pants, driving me wild. “Relax,” I ordered, feeling her tense. “You’re too wound up. Let me make you come, aggelé mou. I want you to scream my name.”
My fingers pushed through the waistband of her underwear, sliding through her wet folds, circling her clit. Her clipboard dropped, her head fell back, and a soft moan escaped her.
