Reassured her coloring is returning to normal, the next emotion to run through my blood is fury.
I’m seething over her carelessness.
How dare she risk her health like that? Her life? Why didn’t she stop me earlier in the swim? Why is she in an ill-fitting wetsuit to begin with?
Who is looking out for her? Because she clearly isn’t looking out for herself.
The door creaks open behind me and Laney steps in, wrapped in a robe.
“Here, I’ll help you in.” I take her hand and guide her in front of me. Once the robe is clear of her shoulder blades, I force my eyes away from her skin, instead tracking the glide of the garment off her arms in the mirror.
Each smooth plane of her body reflects against the glass and into my brain. I’m mapping every inch of her I can see.
Laney called us out for being attracted to each other. She saw it being a problem.
I counted on my resolve and control to temper my want.
But I had no idea how strong my desire burns.
I should walk away, I should free myself from this temptation. Free her from the danger of becoming attached. Break the gravitational pull drawing me into her orbit.
“Ah, that feels nice.” She says and I hear the water moving gently against the tub. Pleading with myself to not picture it lapping across her body.
I clear my throat. “I’ll just–” my sentence dies because I really don’t know what I’m going to do. With a thumb over my shoulder indicating my retreat, I turn away from her and partially close the bathroom door behind me.
Each step down the hall clears my head a little more.
Laney Matteson is intoxicating.
If I’m not careful she’ll seduce me into submission without lifting a finger.
Molten lava floods my veins as I all too easily separate the hypothermic concerns from the memory of holding Laney against my chest. Her rock hard nipples cut against my skin. Her strong, muscular back, curled to bring her closer as my arms wrapped around her.
If we were anywhere else at that moment I would have sunk myself into her depths, losing myself completely to her.
She’s a siren beckoning me to the rocks.
And I don’t have a mast strong enough to tie myself to.
How the hell am I going to resist her?
I pull out one of the chairs at her kitchen table and regroup. This is not how I expected the morning to go. I was hoping to do a training swim to get a sense of her physicality and then talk with her about her plans for training.
I’m her coach. Her role model. I’m the one with the knowledge of the sport and the business side of TitaniumPerson the corporation.
And my job right now is to ensure she’s safe and healthy.
Healthy.
She needs to eat.
The box of breakfast pastries stares back at me. The processed and synthetic ingredients in these things aren’t going to give her body what it needs to build strength and endurance.
But the sugar in them will help warm her up internally right now.
I grab a pack and glass of water and head to the bathroom.
“Laney?” I ask as I knock gently on the door.
