19
Savannah
My sleep is terrible that night. I toss and turn, my hand reaching out for the man who’s been in my bed the last few nights. Part of me is frustrated by my unconscious need for him. I shouldn’t want him or need him as much as I do.
Needless to say, when I wake up at five ‘o’clock the next morning, I’m grumpy. To make matters worse, it’s pouring down rain. How the weather could go from calm and sunny yesterday to dreary and wet today, I don’t know. I look longingly at my bed, and debate whether Alex would skip his swim and just come over here instead. But given how committed he was last night, I doubt it. The man passed up more sex just so he could be home to get his gear for this morning’s workout.
My phone lights up with a text, and since there’s only few people I know who would be awake at this hour, and most of them would be clients, I check it in case it’s something urgent.
ALEX: I’m downstairs with a car. Ready when you are
He’s downstairs? What? I peek out my window, and sure enough, there’s a car waiting outside my building, its headlights flashing in the rain. A part of me appreciates the fact that he doesn’t want me to walk in the rain, but the other, more stubborn part sees this as another chip at my independence.
My grumpy mood wins out as I type a reply.
SAVANNAH: I can walk you know. It’s not far. I do it every day.
ALEX: Relax, love. Just trying to save you from the rain.
SAVANNAH: I’m going to a pool. I’m getting wet anyway.
Yes, I know I’m being childish. But I’ve worked so hard to stand on my own two feet after so many years of my parents’ overprotectiveness. I’ve proven to them and to myself that I can make it in New York, and the last thing I need or want is a man coming in, trying to take over my life.
A knock at my door interrupts my grumbling thoughts. I stalk over and yank it open, glaring at Alex.
“Am I giving you controlling boyfriend vibes again?” He has the decency to look chagrined. “I’m not good at this, Savannah. I’ve never been in a proper relationship. I’m sorry.”
His apology is so heartfelt, I can’t stay mad. Not that I was even mad in the first place, just sexually frustrated, tired, and grumpy from the weather.
“It’s fine. I’m sorry. Thank you for coming to get me,” I flash an apologetic smile, and he steps forward to cup my face and kiss me. The instant his lips touch mine, I feel better.
“Sleep well last night?”
“No,” I huff. “That’s part of the problem.”
He chuckles. “I slept like shit as well. Apparently, I need a beautiful woman beside me if I want a restful night.”
“Well, apparently I need a charmingly arrogant British man beside me,” I tease. His eyes darken, and he gives me a wicked look that makes me throb between my legs.
“Good thing we’ve got each other then, isn’t it?”
The drive to the pool takes less than five minutes, that’s how close I live. Still, it was nice to avoid the cold and wet before I even start my swim. And those few minutes gave me time to think about my reaction to his gesture. I know my independence is important to me, but when did I become so stubbornly attached to it that someone acting out of kindness and concern gets my back up?
When we get to the pool, Alex holds the door open for me and his hand goes to my lower back as we walk in. He’s a gentleman. I wouldn’t have expected that from him based on my first impressions of him, but he’s proving me wrong.
We separate at the locker rooms and meet up again on the pool deck. This is the first time we have swum together since our date. Work commitments kept me from the pool the last couple of days. I’m not entirely certain how to behave around him, but he takes care of that by giving me a swift kiss before walking over to his lane and starting his usual warmup. I’m relieved, to be honest. The familiarity of our routines is comforting. It’s nice to know that whatever is happening between us isn’t going to affect our pool time. I’m coming to realize that the pool is his safe place, just as much as it’s mine.
Alex hops in the water, and immediately launches into a fast freestyle. I feel like I can openly admire him now, and I take full advantage, watching him glide through the water. He makes swimming into an art form. Elegance, power, speed — he embodies it all. It’s easy to see how he was so successful at the Olympics, and I wonder why he stopped competing. I noticed the long scar running down his leg the other night when we were in bed, but he’s never brought up what happened, and I don’t have the courage to ask.
How I ever thought I could just have a night of hot sex with this man and then walk away, unaffected, is beyond me. Granted, we broke the first part of that statement by being together more than just one night. But walking away feels impossible now. He’s under my skin, making his way into my heart. Which is dangerous territory. I slip into the water, lowering myself all the way under. When the water closes over my head the immediate silence and slight pressure calms me the way it always does. I open my eyes, and thanks to my goggles I can see clearly. Alex is powering back towards me, in his lane. I can see his focus even from here. Not wanting to distract him, and desperate to find distraction for myself, I push off and begin my own laps.
Just under an hour later, I heave myself out of the pool and sit on the edge, watching Alex finish up his workout. When he finally levers himself up and onto the buoys separating our two lanes, he’s breathing heavily.
Maybe it’s the aroma of chlorine in the air, maybe it’s the incredible display of athleticism I just witnessed. Maybe I’m still horny from last night. Whatever it is, I want him, badly. My lust must be written on my face because he comes over to where I’m sitting, my legs dangling in the water. He nudges my legs apart, before moving in between them. His powerful legs are treading water, keeping him upright as his arms travel up my legs to my hips. Out of nowhere, his hands go to the deck and he surges up out of the water to kiss me.
“You’re fucking sexy when you swim, love.”
“I was thinking the same thing about you,” I say. We both climb out of the water. Alex gestures with his head towards the hot tub and I nod in agreement. My need is only growing, and the hot tub is tucked in an alcove, out of immediate view of the lifeguard. The only other person in the pool is the older woman who does her aquacise in the shallow end. And if she follows her usual routine, we’ve got half an hour at least.
