And I don’t even have the slightest ability not to stare at every beautiful, sculpted inch of him. He is also half hard and it’s averygenerous half. He turns to the pool but not before I catch the beginning of the cockiest smirk that ever smirked on his face. I wait until he dives under the water to let out a long, low breath and a “Oh mon Dieu.”
My jaw drops. Miraculously, I manage to close it before he emerges from the water. He gives his soaking wet hair a shake, like a wet puppy, and I feel the spray all the way over at the lounger. Then he runs a hand over his face, pushing the water droplets from the five o’clock shadow on his strong jaw, and the smirk re-emerges somehow more cocky than before. And speaking of cock… “Did I forget to mention I love swimming naked? It’s why I wanted privacy.”
“Jesus Christ Billy, you’re out of control.” I drop my towel, and start to shrug into my robe, intent on getting the hell out of here. “I can’t have one freaking normal moment with you.”
“Clara’s not my lover,” he says, casually, ignoring my rant as he bobs in the water. “Everyone assumes that, and I let them because you know better than I do that fighting rumors just makes them stronger. But Clara isn’t my girlfriend or fuck buddy or anything remotely like that. In fact, I wouldn’t get busy with her if she was the last woman on earth, and she feels the exact same way about me.”
Well that stops my feet from moving toward the elevator. I look over my shoulder at him. Thankfully for my sanity, he’s submerged from mid-torso down, and I can’t see what I’m not supposed to see… at least not clearly. “Why not? She’s fucking gorgeous.”
“So what? You think I care about what’s on the outside that much?” he questions, annoyance flickering over his face. “And spoiler alert, hot women are a dime a dozen in my world.”
“Whatever.” I sigh and force myself not to continue this conversation. “It’s not my business anyway.”
“While we’re at it, you should know I didn’t pursue you to get your dad’s attention. I was going to get that with or without your help,” Billy continues. “So other men might use you for your family ties, but I didn’t. Like your assumption about Clara and me, there’s not a lick of truth to that either.”
“So, is that why you stood me up that night? Because you realized you didn’t need me to get a spot on the Mirabella team? Okay. Thanks for finally clearing that up, I guess.” I turn to grab the prosecco because I’ll be damned if I’ll leave it for him. But then he speaks and once again, leaving is the last thing on my mind.
“Tommy James wasn’t just a four time world champion and Australia’s most beloved sports star. He was an opportunistic douchebag who married my mom because it served a purpose.” I glance over at him and his face is hard and angry, which is such a rare expression for him, it shocks me into standing still again. “Tommy grew up in Perth dirt poor. My mother’s family had money. More than they knew what to do with. Her daddy, my gramps, could bank roll Tommy’s career. He wasn’t as good as I was on the track when he was younger. A late bloomer, as I’m sure you’ve heard the racing buffs say when they refer to him. So he needed something more to get him into F1. Like money. He knew if he came with built-in funding, it would help. He wasn’t wrong.”
I blink and study his face as his words sink into my brain. Billy has spoken of his dad before. In the media, he usually smiles and makes some flippant remark about how he’s not even trying to fill his dad’s shoes but is wearing his own shoes or some such bullshit. But he mentioned him to me that fateful night we spent together, and he didn’t sound like this. I knew they hadn’t been close and that hurt Billy, but when he talked of his famous father he didn’t sound this callous. Something has changed.
“He never loved my mom,” Billy continues matter-of-factly. “And he never loved me because I was just the cost of doing business to him. She wanted a kid, so he gave her one to keep her happy and her dad’s wallet open.”
He dives under the surface of the water and emerges at the pool edge closest to me. His eyes are somber. I find myself walking over to him, my robe blowing behind me. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it’s the truth, and it’s all I’ve got,” Billy explains, the pool water tossing reflections all over his face, making it even more angular, rugged, and perfect. “I wouldn’t have used you like he used my mom because I lived with the consequences of a devious move like that, and it is darker and more fucked up than you can imagine.”
I stare down at him. He stares up at me, his face serene and so painfully handsome. This man… he’s been doing it for me since he was a boy. That admission is hard and one I rarely allow myself to make because he’s off limits for so many reasons already, and today we added another. “I’m your boss now.”
“Not until next weekend, technically.” Billy grins and swims away from me, towards the steps in the shallow end. “I mean, the official announcement won’t hit the media until dawn and you won’t actually get to boss me around until the next race, so that’s when it will be real.”
I’m unable to do anything except watch him, even when he starts up the steps naked and glistening in the moonlight. And when he turns towards me, I don’t even try to stop my eyes from sliding down his body. He walks right up to me. He’s half a foot away. He reaches out and gently pushes my robe off my shoulder on the left side. The right side follows and slips down my arm. I bend my arm at the elbows to catch it before it puddles on the concrete.
“You should come in for a swim. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“I… no.”
“Well then, what else are you here for? I might be able to provide it,” Billy whispers.
“No. You… this… no.” Just like Cinderella’s chariot, my ability to speak full sentences seems to have disappeared after midnight.
“Your lips say one thing, but your nipples say another.” Billy winks and that cocky smile on those perfectly symmetrical lips is back again in full force. Then, before I can even comprehend what’s happening, Billy James grabs my robe near my elbows, and in one powerful tug, he’s got us both tumbling into the pool.
Under the surface I kick and flail, the weight of the soaking terry cloth robe causing it to slide off my body and sink to the bottom of the pool. I pop up, and he’s bobbing there, right in front of me, and so I slap the glassy surface with my hand and a sheet of water hits him in his face. I swim toward the pool stairs, yanking the elastic out of my soaking wet hair. But his hand wraps around my ankle, and he pulls me backward. I twist in his grip and kick at him with my free foot, which he also grabs. Then his hands are on my calves, my knees, my thighs… and I’m being pulled—legs apart—closer and closer until, boom. The space between my legs is rutted up against his torso, just above his…
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hiss, but it’s hoarse and needy. Because my body wants him so damn much. I’ve had dreams of him, despite everything, since I met him. Dreams that leave me panting and my panties slick.
He’s not rough with me now. He’s gentle but firm as he walks us both through the water until my back bumps the wall. His hands remain firmly on my thighs, holding me in place, keeping him rutted up against me. This could very easily be construed as Billy attacking me, or being aggressive, but he isn’t. I still have control, and to prove it I shove him away and he steps back, letting go of my legs. Once my feet hit the bottom of the pool, I expect to feel more grounded, but I don’t.
“I’d never hurt you, Frankie,” he says softly.
“Again?” I ask back.
He looks confused. Authentically confused. “I was a stupid kid.”
“This can’t happen.”
“Frankie, if it doesn’t happen tonight, it never will,” Billy replies and steps up into my space again. He puts his hands on either side of me, gripping the pool edge. “Just let me touch you… make you feel good. I’ve wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you.”
