I turn to cheer and celebrate with Bella, but I can’t see her.
I glance at the beach as the clouds drift past the moon. Iwhip my head back and forth. She should be here. I shake as I attempt to tread water. My pulse rises.
She brushes my back. I turn to find her beaming at me. “We did it! I knew my fake husband wouldn’t back down.”
Endorphins and the numbness of my brain from the water overwhelm me as she cups my smiling face.
She licks the salty water off her lips, and I track her tongue.
“You’re beautiful, Bella.”
She shrugs. “No one’s called me beautiful in a long time.”
I stare into her sparkling brown eyes. “Then I’m telling you again: you’re fucking stunning, sexy, and beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to spend a minute staring at you.”
She shakes her head with a smile.
The need for more than just her casual touch rips through my body, and I stare at her lips. I second, then triple, guess myself.
“Kiss me,” she demands.
Before I can overthink germs and illness, I dive into a kiss.
Her lips are soft against mine as I try to tread water. It’s clumsy and messy but so fucking hot. It’s like she’s breathing life and possibility into me when our tongues tangle, and for the first night in months, I don’t feel fucked up. I feel hope.
I reach under the water, pulling her up so she’s wrapped around me, and do everything I can to keep us afloat. Her skin burns against my palms in the chilled water. The way she bobs makes her grind against my dick. She wraps her arms around my neck and takes the kiss deeper.
As we sink, we pull apart. Her heaving chest gives me filthy thoughts about her in my bed back in England, her hair tousled against my pillow, her limbs tangled in the sheets as she pants my name.
“I need to get out of this water.” She giggles. “I’m freezing.”
“But you’re a badass rugby chick. It must be colder than this on a pitch in winter.”
“You tell that to my nipples.”
I consider wrapping my lips around them to keep them warm. Maybe she senses the same, because she teases her bra strap. As she’s about to show me her breasts, she dives under.
She tugs on my boxers but doesn’t remove them. Suddenly, something soft and textured is thrust into my hand. I open my palm as she swims away, winking and giggling over her shoulder.
Turquoise and black knickers fall from my grip. I swipe them, taking them with me as I follow her.
She reaches the beach before me.
Her curvy butt mesmerises me, and I’m in awe of the way her hips sway as she walks. The darkness tries to hide her from me, but I can see enough. The image of her nearly naked body dancing across the sand will fill my fantasies for months. I gulp as she looks over her shoulder and winks at me.
I grip her knickers tighter while silently begging her to turn. I’m desperate to see all of her and tell her again how beautiful she is.
I drag myself out of the water, contemplating ways the old Niki would ask her out.
As she wraps her shivering body in her dress, I catch the sound of a mobile ringtone I don’t recognise. She answers her phone as I pop my cap on.
“Is everything okay?” she asks the caller.
My eyes trail up her form but rest on her furrowed brow and her teeth nibbling at her lips as she attempts to tie her dress. I should ask for her number. I swallow loudly as I practice my request.
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Bella?” I ask as she shoves on her sandals.
