My mouth stretches. “How about you catch your breath first?”
“Afraid of losing.” He smiles like he bested me.
“No,” I say. “I’m afraid I’m a bad influence.Hubrisisn’t a good look on you.” I also add, “And I’m still taller. Right now andevery day.”
“Byonedamninch.” He tries to hoist himself up higher—just to make a point, but I push his chest. Hard enough that he falls back into the water.
I can’t stop laughing when he breaches the surface with two middle fingers. Then he captures my dangling ankle and yanks me into the pool.Shit.
I dunk below, the water glowing blue in the darkly lit room. I breach the surface with a growing smile. Maximoff treads water, facing me. His wet hair is darker, almost closer to his natural color.
We don’t touch yet.
My gaze pings to the security cameras. We’re at the Hale Co. high-rise, the offices closed for the night. He’s the son of the CEO, so he has his share of perks. Like getting access to the indoor pool after-hours. It helps that H.M.C. Philanthropies’ main offices are in this building.
Maximoff rarely pulls strings for himself, but whenever I see the look on his face when he dives into the water, it makes complete sense why he chooses to open the pool.
I swim to the corner of the ten-foot deep-end. The only blind-spot. I’ve been in Hale Co.’s security room and looked at the cam footage. I’m 100% positive.
Maximoff follows.
The second we reach the corner, we explode—his mouth crushes against my mouth, rough and strong like he saved energy for this sweltering moment. Submerged in the pool, water droplets bead and drip down our temples and jaws. Wet but hot—so fucking hot.
His rock-hard body screamscloserandmore.Bucking against me—damn.
Damn.This guy could fuck me all day. I grip the tiled edge and use my build to pin Maximoff to the corner. His head tilts back, arousal trying to turn his eyes. He groans with a sharp breath, “Fuck.”
I whisper rough in his ear, “Did you like that?” He responds with a hard kiss, his skilled tongue parting my lips. I massage his cock above his red knee-length Speedo, his erection growing beneath my palm.
Fuck, I’m throbbing. Beneath the water, lit by a soft blue pool light, he clasps my muscular waist—and he flips us. Pinning my shoulders to the corner.
His chiseled build pushes up against mine, and my hand roams the carved ridges of his abs.
Maximoff slows down, his breath deepening, and I watch him trace one of my tattoos with his fingers. Near my collarbone, a blood-red sparrow flies through the mast of a gray-scale ship.
He’s looking at me like I’m the treasured celebrity. As though I’m the most valuable one.
I skim the faint bruise on his sharpened cheekbone.
I hate seeing you hurt.And I’m not the only one. After the firecracker incident last week, all of his younger cousins and two of his siblings approached me at a family cookout. Behind Maximoff’s back.
Basically, they said, “Promise us you won’t let Moffy get hurt again.”
His brother added, “Or die.”
“He’s not going to die,” I said, assured of this.I still am.
“Then hurt,” they all said in unison.
“Promise us,” Audrey Cobalt, the youngest Cobalt of seven emphasized, a knife in her hand for a whole blood oath thing that Ideclined.
Eighteen times, I said, “I promise.” Until they believed me.
And I’ve never carried a promise like a burden, but here, now—rememberingthe pure, unconditional love those kids have for Maximoff, I feel the fucking need to at least caution him.
I run my hand down to his smooth jaw. “You need to be more careful.”
“I’m the same as I’ve always been.” His eyes dance over my mouth and cheeks. Maximoff has one arm out of the pool. And he uses his weight to cage me, keeping our shoulders above water. “So is this my bodyguard talking or my…?” He pauses.
