Kane watches me intently with a slight, knowing smirk. He’s waiting for me, his defined arms creating ripples that drift toward the small beach.
“I swear if a crab bites me, I’ll make you pay.”
“Crabs live in saltwater. You’re fine.”
I wade deeper, acutely aware of my rock-hard nipples and the goosebumps raising the hairs on my arms.
“What about freshwater crabs?” I tut disapprovingly, doing my best not to suck in my gut as the water rises higher with each step. “I thought you, with your private lessons, would be better educated than that.”
While I’m talking, his mouth dips beneath the surface. When he comes back up, his lips are wet and tempting. “You insult me a lot, you know that?” He tilts his head, and the faint hint of a smile makes my heart beat faster. “There are no native true freshwater crabs in North America north of Mexico.”
Fuck me.The water reaches my nipples, and Kane wasn’t lying when he said it was cold. A thousand painful needle pricks have me close to caving. But no—I refuse to let him win, even if it’s nearly impossible to keep the mask in place.
“You look cold, baby,” he teases.
“Not at all. This is warm.”
A quiet laugh slips from his lips. “I really like how stubborn you are, you know that?”
“It’s one of my finer qualities, if you ask me,” I say with a teasing grin as I finally reach him. It’s deep enough out here that I have to tread water, whereas Kane, with his impressive height, doesn’t face the same issue.
We’re close now… close enough to see the green flecks in his blue eyes. My heart rushes against my ribs when he looks at me like that.
“You got me here,” I say low, and he drops his eyes to my mouth, where the water tremors against my chin with each exhale. “What now?” I ask, my pulse roaring in my ears.
“Tell me something about yourself.”
“About me?”
He nods, his lips disturbing the surface.
“What do you want to know?”
Overhead, an eagle circles. Kane keeps his eyes on mine, as if it’s just us here. “What kind of music do you like?”
The water isn’t as cold anymore since I’ve gotten used to it—it’s almost comfortable, and I swim in circles around him, but we never break eye contact… not once.
“The old school rock classics. Think eighties.”
“Aren’t you a little young for that?”
“Who’s insulting who now?”
His lips curl slightly at the corners as he dips his head back down for another second, submerging his mouth in the water while watching me.
“What about you?” I ask. “What kind of music do you listen to?”
He rises again, lips slick under the sunlight, strands of his dark hair glued to his forehead. “A little bit of everything.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Artic Monkeys. The 1975. Deftones.”
“Really? I guess I pictured you listening to Mozart and Beethoven or something similar.”
Kane watches me intently for a long moment… long enough for my chest to feel strange. Then a dimple deepens in his cheek as he splashes water at me.
Surprised, I laugh and dive away, but he grabs my ankle and pulls me in, wrapping my thighs around his waist.
