“I’m resourceful.” I tilt my head up and kiss his jaw, feeling him shiver against me. “Girlies do what they have to do.”
He pulls back to look down at me. His gaze is warm and hungry and full of affection all at once.
“Marry me,” he says, dead serious.
He is out of his damn mind!
I splash water at him. “You can’t propose while we’re both half naked in your pool!”
“Well. WhencanI propose?” He’s pouting now, but joking.
“You said give it twelve months. So I’ll see you in twelve months.” I swat at his hands as they reach for my boobs beneath the clear water.
He catches my wrists easily, pinning them playfully against his chest. “Twelve months? That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’ll survive.”
“I might not.” He leans in and kisses me again, this time slow and teasing, like he’s trying to convince me otherwise. “And in the meantime ...”
Harris’s giant hands have me by the waist, and he hoists me up, setting me on the pool deck, palms spreading my legs. Up my rib cage. Over my breasts.
I lean back on my elbows, the sun warming every inch of my skin as Harris stands between my legs, water dripping from his body onto the stone deck. He looks up at me with that devilish grin that makes my toes curl.
“You know,” he says, fingers circling my nipple. “I could ask again tomorrow. Or the day after that. Maybe every day for the next twelve months until you cave.”
I roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me. “Persistent much?”
He shrugs, hands sliding down to my thighs, thumbs flirting with the hemline of my swim bottoms. “I’m a linebacker. Persistence is my job.”
When he nips at my skin, I gasp.
The sun beats down on us, the sound of the pool filter humming in the background, and for the first time in a long time, I feel completely, ridiculously happy.
“Ever had sex in a pool?”
I shake my head. “No—and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
He leans forward and licks my nipple. “Why?”
“Chlorine up my vajayjay? We have horrible luck.”
He chuckles, pressing a wet kiss to my sternum. “Nah. We have excellent luck. We found each other.”
I melt a little. Sometimes he says the sweetest things ...
He slides his hands under my thighs, pulling me to the very edge of the deck, my calves resting on his broad shoulders. “I think we should test the pool theory,” he declares. “Or. I can do this ...”
He dips his head between my thighs, finger hooking my swimsuit bottom and pulling it aside before putting his mouth there, lips on my pussy in the spot I love most. Nothing is more erotic than watching him with his face on my clit, but still, I tug him upward by the hair and press my forehead to his.
“Twelve months,” I whisper.
“Nine,” Harris bargains.
“Ten.”
He groans, throwing his head back. “Fine. Ten. But I’m proposing in the most embarrassing way possible.”
I grin. “I’d expect nothing less.”
