Sticking the tip of my finger through the falling water, I created a divide in the liquid curtain just wide enough to peer through.
I recognized the man immediately, now that I bothered to look. It was our lawyer, Kitt Doyle. The man looked completely at peace, eyes closed and face relaxed as he lounged among the water. He’d probably been just as busy as I was recently, trying to identify the two dozen sketches I’d provided him with. It was no wonder the man needed a break.
I meant to simply confirm his identity and then return to my solitude. However, the moment I saw him, I completely froze.
The way he leaned against the wall, with his arms draped over the back of the bench on either side, left him completely on display. He wasn’t wearing a shirt—which made sense as we were in a pool—and I couldn’t tell what he was wearing under the surface. Since he was taller than me, the water didn’t come up as high on him, which put most of his torso exposed.
It had been years since I last saw so much bare skin all at once. Even when I showered, I didn’t bother to look at myself. I’d seen enough naked bodies in my life. I didn’t need to see any more.
Or so I thought.
Holy hell, the man was jacked.
The fine cut of his suits gave him elegant lines but hid just how much muscle he was actually packing. He wasn’t bulky, but his arms could have been used as an anatomical diagram. Each muscle was clearly defined, and he even his stomach had a clear six pack.
I didn’t think anyone actually had abs like that outside of movies where special effects could help the actors out.
Just looking at this man felt like a sin. I’d never been particularly religious, but I was half tempted to find the nearest church and cleanse myself through confession.
Kitt’s chest rose and fell with each slow breath. He was drenched from head to toe, with his dark hair in disarray and plastered to his forehead. As I watched, a drop of water from his hair ran down his neck and over his chest, sliding right past one pert nipple.
Something warm throbbed deep in my stomach. I gasped when I felt my cock twitch between my legs and send sparks of pleasure running through my veins.
I withdrew my hand and let the water curtain fall closed.
What the hell was I doing?
The spark of pleasure I’d felt disappeared as quickly as it came. In its wake, nausea rolled my stomach.
Kitt came here to relax, and here I was hiding in the shadows, leering at the man like a creep. I’d even gotten aroused at the sight of him when he never invited me to look at him. So many people had taken their pleasure from me, uncaring of the fact that I didn’t want it. I never thought I’d do the same to someone else.
My breaths came in short, sharp gasps. I couldn’t breathe. My vision swam, and I feared I was about to throw up in the pool. I clamped a hand over my mouth, as if I could physically hold the nausea back, but it didn’t help. The world spun around me, and all I could do was curl up in a ball on the bench and bury my head against the tops of my knees poking out of the water.
Time passed, though I couldn’t have said how much. Minutes. Hours. There was no way to know. Eventually, my breathing slowed, and my muscles unclenched. I was able to uncurl from my defense ball and actually think straight again.
The first thought was confusion. It had been a long time since I had such a bad panic attack, but in the past, I’d always needed a therapist to talk me down. My panic attacks had gotten better after I learned breathing techniques and mantras that I coulduse to calm myself down, but I hadn’t been able to use them this time.
What had brought me out of the panic attack?
My brain finally came back online, and I realized that I was wrapped in something warm and firm, with the sound of a heartbeat in my ear.
CHAPTER 8
Kitt
Less than a dayafter getting the pictures from the sketch artists, I was already fed up with the sight of those leering faces. My fists itched to beat each one of them to a bloody pulp, and I’d had to stop myself from literally punching the paper.
It would have accomplished nothing except to break my hand against the hard wood of the desk.
I couldn’t bring myself to sleep while there was still work to be done, but I needed a break. Surely, no one would mind if I set the pictures aside for a minute to collect my thoughts.
It was nearly midnight when I stepped from the cottage I’d claimed as my own. The gurgling water of the pool caught my attention. Its constant ripples from the waterfall distorted the reflection of the sky, throwing light in all directions.
A dip in the pool sounded like just the thing I needed. The cool water could wash me clean of all the revolting truths bouncing around in my head.
I hadn’t brought any swimwear, this wasn’t a vacation after all, but a pair of boxer briefs would work well enough. No onewas going to see me anyway. Stripping off my suit, I carefully folded each piece and left it all on a lawn chair near the pool before wading into the water.
The temperature was a little on the cold side, perfectly suited to chase away the tension from my shoulders. There was still so much work to do. I couldn’t afford to lounge around for long, but a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.
