“You know we can’t,” he murmurs, his lips grazing my wrist. “Your brother would kill us both.”
The heat of his breath, the way his lips brush my skin, makes me shiver despite the water and I bite back a whimper.
“Lucky for us, my brother isn’t here.” My gaze locks with his, defiant and desperate all at once.
“Mais…” he growls softly, pulling back just slightly, but the tension crackles between us like static electricity.
We stay like that for a long, torturous minute, before his mouth is on mine—desperate. He drags me closer, lips crushing mine, water splashing up the sides of the tub as my hand fists in his curls. He tastes like cider and heat and every memory I’ve been trying to bury.
Why did I ever let him go?The thought plays in my head on a loop.
I climb onto his lap before I can think twice. His hands grip my ass, pulling me flush against him, and there it is. His hard, thick cock pressed right against the thin barrier of my bikini. The contact makes me gasp into his mouth, my hips rocking without permission.
He groans, low and guttural, grinding up against me so hard I feel him everywhere. My nipples ache under my bikini top, straining against the fabric, and he must feel it too because one of his hands slides up my back, fingers brushing the wet strap before palming my breast through the thin material.
I whimper, arching against him.
“Fuck, Maisy,” he breathes, kissing down my throat, sucking against my skin until I’m sure there’ll be marks tomorrow. “Did you wear this skimpy little bikini for me?”
“Yes,” I gasp out as his other hand slides over my hip, down to my thigh, pulling me harder against him while he groans appreciatively.
The water makes everything slicker, hotter, and when his thumb teases the edge of my bikini, skimming just beneath the thin fabric, I nearly come undone.
“Sterling…” My voice breaks, half a plea, half a warning.
His mouth finds mine again, bruising and hungry, his tongue sliding against mine as his thumb dips lower, brushing where I ache most. My hips buck, chasing it. Sterling’s fingers slide deep inside me, curling just right until I gasp and slap a hand over my mouth.
I can’t—God, I can’t let him hear how much I’ve wanted this. How much I ached for it.
His thumb presses against my clit, slow circles that make my thighs tremble under the water. My head tips back, eyes squeezed shut as if that will help me resist moaning.
“Let me see those beautiful eyes,” he murmurs, gently peeling my hand from my mouth.
I force my eyes open, meeting his deep browns, focused only on me. The intensity there steals the little breath I had left.
“That’s it,” he coaxes, moving his fingers in a rhythm that makes my body arch toward him despite myself. “Let go, Mais. I know you’re already so close.”
And he’s not wrong. Heat coils low in my core, building higher and higher, until I’m gripping his wrist under the water, not to stop him, but to anchor myself against the building storm inside me.
Every thrust of his fingers and flick of his thumb sends me reeling closer to the edge. My thighs clamp tight around his waist, my hips rolling helplessly against his hand. I bite down on a whimper, but it escapes anyway—desperate, breaking the quiet night.
Sterling groans under his breath like he feels it too. His forehead nearly touches mine, lips brushing the corner of my mouth as he growls, “Fuck, you’re about to come for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, shamelessly. My whole body is strung tight, seconds away from shattering.
And then he stops.
Just like that, the pressure vanishes. His fingers slip free, leaving me empty, trembling, and aching.
My whimper this time is broken, pleading, before I can swallow it down. “Sterling…”
He shakes his head, jaw clenched, eyes dark with want. “We can’t. I promised your brother I wouldn’t do this.”
I want to scream at him, scratch him, beg him—anything to take away the throbbing need he just left me with. But I just stare at him, chest heaving, lips parted, undone.
He leans close enough that his breath ghosts my ear. “But I want you to know that I want to. That I still want you, in any way I can have you. In any way you’ll let me.”
I whimper again, softer this time, and hate myself for how much he hears it. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the bubbling jets and our ragged breaths. Moments later, he climbs out of the hot tub, still rock hard, and walks back into the house, leaving me out in the tub alone.
