“Guilty as charged.” He tips my chin up until our eyes meet. “Come on, Astrid. Just let go and have fun.”
This is crazy, but when he’s touching me and looking at me, like he is right now, I am not immune to his powers. “If I catch hypothermia, I’m blaming you.”
“I’ll keep you warm.”
Shivers ripple all over my skin at his words and the heated promise in his eyes.
“Get undressed. I won’t look,” he adds, slipping his sneakers back on and standing with his back to me.
Did I mention he has a great ass? It’s staring me in the face, and I’m frozen as I slowly drag my gaze from his shoulders, over his ripped back, to his chiseled ass, muscular thighs, and toned calves. Damn, the rear view is every bit as enticing as the front view.
“Stop staring and strip, Astrid.” Humor laces his words, and my cheeks are fire-engine red, something that is a regular habit around this guy.
“Stop squeezing your ass cheeks and flexing your muscles,” I retort, and he cracks up laughing.
I whip off my sweater and shirt before removing my socks and sneakers, and shimmying out of my jeans, grateful I wore a matching white bra and panties today. They are nothing special, but the push-up bra makes my B-cup boobs look bigger, so I’m counting that as a win. I silently thank whatever instinct made me bring the extra towels and my swim shoes from the trunk.
“I’m ready,” I announce after I put my shoes on and stand.
Callan stretches out his arm, and I take his hand, interlocking our fingers. He turns, as if in slow motion, and I watch the expression on his face change from forced indifference to blatant lust as he rakes his gaze all over me, lingering on my chest before traveling down. I hope my padded bra is disguising my hard nipples because I don’t fancy trying to explain that to Freja later. My little sister misses nothing, and her new fascination with boys has led to tons of inquiring questions lately.
“Fan.” Callan drags his lip through his teeth. “Did I really say this was a good idea?”
“Changing your mind, Irish?”
He shakes his head before leaning into my ear. “You’re beautiful.”
My heart swells to bursting point, and I have to resist the desire to squeeze my thighs together as my core pulses with powerful need because our sisters are watching from the water.
That thought is all it takes to douse the flames of my desire. This isn’t the time or place. Gripping Callan’s hand, I tug him forward, smirking as he stumbles. “You just cursed in Swedish. I’m proud of you.”
“You’re rubbing off on me, Astrid. In more ways than one.”
“Hurry up, slowpokes!” Erin calls out.
Callan grins. “She is sounding more American by the day.” He tightens his hold on my hand. “Let’s make a run for it. It’s the only way to do this.”
“Okay, one, two?—”
“Three.” Callan scoops me up into his arms without warning and charges toward the water.
“What are you doing?” I scream as he crashes into the lake, spraying cold water everywhere.
“Making sure you don’t chicken out.” He wades into the water as our sisters scream and giggle.
“Put me down,” I blurt on autopilot, realizing the error of my ways just as Callan says, “If you say so,” and he tosses me up. I hover in the air for a few seconds before plummeting into the water, my scream dying when I hit the lake.
As I plunge into the water, my body goes into shock at the rapid drop in temp, and I’m shaking as icy water pokes me all over like tiny needles penetrating my skin. Pushing with my legs, I burst through the surface with a loud gasp, covered in long strands of hair clinging to my face like tentacles. I swat at the messy strands, shoving them out of my eyes and off my face as I look around for my fake boyfriend.
Freja and Erin laugh uncontrollably as they swim nearby. “You should’ve seen it, Azz. You were like a human cannonball!”
The girls continue giggling as I narrow my eyes in Callan’s direction. “You’re so dead, Hunt.”
“I’m terrified,” he drawls, and I vow to wipe that smug expression off his face.
Diving under the water, I swim deep, circling Callan’s legs as they move around while he looks for me. Creeping up from underneath him, I tug sharply on his left leg, yanking him beneath the surface. When I resurface, the girls are laughinghysterically and shouting encouragements when Callan’s head reappears. I push him back down with my hands and wrap my legs around his chest, trying to hold him in place. But he’s way heavier and stronger, and it takes little effort on his part to gain the upper hand. His large palms grip my waist, and I’m pulled back under, all tangled up with him.
His grin is evident even underwater as he winds my legs around his waist and flattens one hand on my lower back before he propels us upward and we erupt from the water, gasping, shaking, and laughing.
