Page 195 of Sins of Arrogance

It feels mag­i­cal. I’m float­ing on my back, en­joy­ing my view of the night sky when a hand closes around my an­kle.

That’s the only warn­ing I get be­fore I go un­der. I come up sput­ter­ing and glar­ing to find Mick grin­ning.

Care­free and happy and that just does my heart in.

“You’ll pay for that,” I threaten, launch­ing my­self at him.

I try to dunk him, and I def­i­nitely tickle him, but he’s too strong. He flips us both un­der­wa­ter and when we come up, we’re wrapped around each other.

His mouth finds mine with the unerring ac­cu­racy of lovers who have shared a bed and their bod­ies for seven years.

We kiss and tease and laugh un­til I’m breath­less, and my en­tire body is buzzing. I wrap my legs around his waist, lock­ing my thighs around him, trap­ping the hard length of his erec­tion be­tween us.

“You sur­ren­der?” he asks, grin­ning down at me, his hands roam­ing along my back and cup­ping my bot­tom un­der the wa­ter.

I rest my head on his shoul­der, let­ting my­self melt against him. “If this is sur­ren­der, syn­di­cate wars would end be­fore the first sol­dier dies.”

“Noth­ing else can feel like this, mo chiste is a stór. What we have is unique.”

That en­dear­ment again. And the way he says it makes my heart flip.

I press a kiss to his neck. “You think we’re the only so­ciopath and mob princess who love each other more than life?”

“Doesn’t mat­ter. That love can’t be du­pli­cated.”

“You’re not com­pet­i­tive at all.” I rub my­self against his erec­tion.

“You ready to go in­side?” he asks.

“I’d rather go in the hot tub.” I’ve got plans.

He agrees like I ex­pect, be­cause he would do pretty much any­thing to make me happy. And just know­ing that in­fuses ev­ery breath I take with joy.

We reach the pool steps, and I try to un­wrap my legs, but he tight­ens his hold on my back­side. “No. Let me carry you.”

I glance around. I don’t see any­one, but I know they’re out there – his men, watch­ing. Pro­tect­ing.

“All right,” I mur­mur.

He car­ries me across the pool deck, the blunt tip of his hard sex rub­bing against the apex of my thighs with ev­ery step. My mind drifts to a dozen sce­nar­ios that end with us naked, still in this ex­act po­si­tion.

But first…I have my plans.

Mick starts the jets, then steps down into the bub­bling hot wa­ter with me still in his arms.

I tense. “It’s hot.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He dips us both down un­til the wa­ter reaches our necks. “This is the quick­est way.”

My body fights the shock of the heat at first, but it doesn’t take long be­fore I’m sigh­ing. “That feels heav­enly.”

We set­tle side by side on the bench, warm wa­ter and jets work­ing out the ten­sion in my mus­cles. It should be re­lax­ing. And it is – for a while.

But I’m too aware of his nearly naked body. Of how good he smells. Of how safe I feel, even with dan­ger al­ways one breath away in our world.

Snug­gling into his chest, I slide my hand up his thigh, slow and de­lib­er­ate. When I brush my fin­gers against the hard line of his sex, he goes rigid be­side me. I smile, as if I’m not up to any­thing at all.

My hand drifts be­neath the waist­band of his swim trunks.