I don’t answer him and despite all the evil things hehas done, a little bit of light chases away that heavy sorrow in my chest. If I can love a man who did all those atrocious things, see past it, then I know there’s more to him than he leads people to believe.
“I want to swim,” I declare loudly, changing the subject completely.
I turn to find him already dangling my bright yellow bikini from his fingers. There’s tension back in his shoulders, a small frown creasing his brow. I walk toward him, swallow my apprehension, trusting my instinct as I reach up and smooth out that little line between his brows. He relaxes at my touch, eyes closing for a moment before his blue eyes open and pulse when he looks at me.
“Are you going to ask my permission, kitten?” he purrs, holding the control.
Fuel, meet fire.
“May I go swimming?” I flutter my lashes, looking up at him as I widen my eyes innocently.
“Fuck me,” He groans, dropping the bikini into my waiting hands.
I don’t bother going for privacy to change, choosing to strip right there and then. I’m naked in a matter of seconds, reaching for the bikini.
“Fuck me.” He groans for a second time and storms from the room.
Chapter Fifty-four
Olivia swims elegantly toward the edge of the pool where I wait with a cocktail, the bright pink concoction gently fizzing in my hand.
“Is that for me?” She asks.
That bright yellow bikini is doing things to my brain, I swear.
“Yes.” I answer. I’m still tense from that earlier conversation in the bedroom. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how she can bear to touch me after everything I did to her family. When I manipulated her into this marriage, I didn’t worry about such things but now…
Will it cost me in the end?
Or will it be one of the many other evils I’ve committed?
Water sluices down her delicate frame as she uses the edge of the pool to pull herself from the water, sittingherself so her feet are still submerged. She reaches for the cocktail as I hand it down to her.
I changed myself into a pair of navy swim trunks but hadn’t gotten in, too content in watching her glide through the water like some tempting little siren.
I don’t tell her I scoured the cocktail recipe books stashed at the bar, that’s never been touched before now, to make her this drink, flipped through the pages until I found one I thought she might like, but then realized there isn’t enough I know about her.
I want to know it all.
So, I picked the one I thought she’d like the most, and hoped I was right.
She takes a sip from the straw and makes a sound that shoots straight to my cock.
“This is delicious!” She takes another hearty sip, “Did you make this?”
“Easy,” I warn her, “That has a lot of alcohol in it.”
Her eyes light up, the sorrow and guilt that was written on her face barely an hour ago completely gone, or hidden, I didn’t know which.
“Where’s yours?” she asks, placing the drink down onto the tile next to the pool and leans back onto her palms, tipping her head back to look at me.
I flick my eyes down her body, the water clings to her skin, the wet material of her swimsuit molding to her shape. My damn mouth waters. She has a hold on me, a hold so tight I’d crawl across burning coal for her.
“I’ll have one later.” I tamp down the urge to spread her out on the deck by stepping to the side and divinginto the water.
I take a few seconds to come back up, opening my eyes beneath the water to see her still sitting on the edge, staring down at me. I swim toward her, pushing up off the bottom to come up right between her legs. My hands curl around her ankles as I bring my head above water, flicking hair out my face. Water droplets stick to my lashes, running down over my face and lips. I grin at her as one of her brows jumps up, a smile pulling on her lips.
“What’s that smile for?”
