My mouth crashes into hers, and every thought I’ve ever buried, every look I’ve stolen, and every damn second we’ve wasted lying to ourselves explodes.
Her lips part on a stunned breath, and I take it.
No hesitation, no finesse, just my tongue against hers, fierce and fiery, demanding everything at once. She tastes like salt and chlorine and I’m already addicted. She doesn’t pull back, she presses into me as hungry as I am, maybe more.
I’m on fire with how she melts into me, how she clutches my hair like she has to pull me closer.
Water laps at our hips as I back her toward the pool stairs, my body guiding hers. The blue swirls around us, warm and thick. The cold stone supports her back as I press her down, pinning her between me and the step, our heads barely hovering above the surface.
She meets my eyes, breathless and waiting for my next move.
So am I.
My hands roam up her hips and over the curve of her ribcage, then higher. My palm covers her breast through the spandex as my thumb strums her nipple.
Ivy jerks as though I’ve electrified her. Her waist arches up, her center pressing right against my growing hardness.
She moans low, a shuddering sound that vibrates against my lips. My cock twitches in response, demanding more.
I work my way down her inner thigh, caressing her slow as hell, earning her squirm. I trace back up, my fingers skimming the fabric over her most sensitive skin, teasing, taunting, until I find the spot that wrenches a whimper.
And fuck—
“Give me that sound again,” I pant between kisses.
She doesn’t just give it to me; she lights up my brain. Then, taking what she wants, her leg locks around my waist, yanking me flush against her, forcing my fingers to press harder over her clit.
Ivy’s legs tighten around me, a shudder ripping through her and I feel it everywhere. Spine. Nerves. Dick.
“Shit.” My mouth presses into her neck. “You feel so good. I wasn’t ready for… tell me to stop.”
She meets my eyes. “Don’t you dare.”
I laugh, low, against her lips. “Do you always get this turned on in public pools?”
“N-no.” She stutters as I start to rub faster, her voice breaking. “M-maybe? Ask me later.”
She brushes her palm against my length, then reaches down and helps herself, wrapping her fingers around my cock with a sinful grip. The squeeze that follows sends my soul straight out of my body.
“Christ, Ivy.”
Her lips brush against my ear. “Do you always get so hard this fast?”
“No. That’s all you.”
She pushes me back, breaking the spell.
“Room. Now. Or I swear to God, we’re doing this in the pool.”
“On your feet, Stopwatch,” I say, grinning as I vault up the stairs, water slapping off my legs.
She climbs out, droplets clinging, curves glistening. She throws me a look that could melt steel.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Make me.”
I close the distance in two strides, pull her against me, and kiss her like I’m branding her. Our mouths collide—teeth and groans and sexual frustration—and fuck if I care who’s watching. All that matters is the way she clings to me.
