“Mmm, so fucking gorgeous.”
He dips his head, lips grazing my neck as he kneads my flesh, sending shivers racing down my spine when his tongue laves at my skin. “You taste good, too.”
I can’t fucking think straight with his mouth on me like this, all hot with need. My fingers dig into his shoulders as he works his way down, teeth scraping gently across my collarbone.
“Rowan,” I gasp as he takes a nipple into his mouth, rolling the barbell with his tongue.
Keeping one hand firmly at the small of my back, he slides the other around my hip and down into my bikini bottoms. When his thumb finds my clit, I nearly fly off the edge of the pool.
“Fuck,” I gasp, head falling back as he circles my sensitive bundle of nerves. I’m already embarrassingly wet, and not from the pool water.
“There’s my sunshine girl,” he encourages, voice rough with need. “Let me feel how much you want this.”
Just as he shoves a finger into my slick heat, an automated female voice blares from out of nowhere.
“Visitor requesting entry at main gate.”
We freeze, my eyes flying open to meet Rowan’s equally startled gaze.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I groan, reluctantly unwinding my legs from around his waist.
Pupils blown wide, the look on Rowan’s face tells me the last thing he wants to do is let anyone in. “They can wait,” he growls, leaning in to recapture my lips.
“Visitor requesting entry at main gate.”
With a frustrated growl, he adds another finger, making me moan and thrust against his hand. Less than a minute later, just as my inner walls start to flutter in anticipation…
“Visitor requesting entry at main gate.”
“Shit,” he mutters against my mouth. “Guess they’re not gonna give up. I should probably get that.”
I lean away, yanking my bikini top back into place with shaky hands. “Who else knows you’re home other than your agent and assistant?”
“Good question,” he grumbles, helping me adjust my top.
He takes a step back, running a hand through his damp hair in obvious frustration. “Wait here. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”
I watch as he hoists himself out of the pool, water cascading down his body. Wet swim trunks cling to his ass and thighs as he grabs a towel, wrapping it around his waist before heading over to a small panel near the sliding glass door.
Pressing a button, he barks, “What?”
“Hey! It’s me!” a female voice chirps. “Surprise!”
Rowan’s entire body stiffens. “Carrie?” he asks, voice tight. “What are you doing here?”
My stomach drops. Carrie? As inCarrie Southern? His alleged supermodel ex-girlfriend? The same woman whose face I’ve been Insta-stalking online?
“I just got back from my shoot in Milan and thought I’d swing by! I’ve been dying to catch up. Come on. Let me in.”
My heart pounds as I slide back into the pool, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.
“This isn’t really a good time, Carrie,” Rowan answers gruffly.
Shit. I can see the tension in his muscles from all the way over here.
“Oh, don’t be silly! I won’t stay long. I just want to show you the photos from my Vogue shoot. You said you wanted to see them, remember?”
Rowan glances back at me, his expression full of apology and frustration. I give him a small shrug, trying to act like I don’t care even though my stomach is in knots.
