Page 258 of Eight of Swords, Part One

‘No.’

Jules rolls his eyes, swims a little more.

He does a few laps underwater.

Then only underwater, starts coming up for air later and later.

Lachlan is well-versed in the boy’s bullshit, despite the pleasant lack of it lately, so when Jules stays under down by the deep end longer than he should, Lachlan considers the lack of any big bubbles and the fact that Jules seems to be keeping himself under by the ladder.

He also knows Jules can hold his breath for at least a minute.

So Lachlan is counting seconds.

When he gets to one-thirty-six, he pulls off his boots, still counting. When he reaches one-fifty-one, he removes his rig, jacket and shirt off.

He steps onto the edge.

At two minutes, he dives in.

The water is cool, not cold. He opens his eyes, blinking to adjust.

Lachlan reaches Jules quickly, pulls his seemingly lifeless body until they both break the surface. Jules remains unresponsive. There’s a moment where Lachlan is genuinely terrified that he actually drowned, got caught on the ladder, accidentally inhaled.

But only for a moment.

Because when he gets Jules against the side of the pool, Jules spits water at him, beaming. ‘Got ya!’ he crows, so smug Lachlan could slap him.

‘You little f—’

Jules crushes his lips against Lachlan’s, arms around his neck, trusting and expecting Lachlan to tread water for the both of them. Jules’ mouth is wet and he opens it right away this time, makes warm, sloppy kisses between them.

And for a split second, Lachlan so badly wants to give in that it wrenches his organs, viciously twists what’s soft inside.

He wants to kiss him back, steal time in the water, love him the way he knows Jules needs to be loved, no matter how fucked up it is in the cold light of day, because this isn’t the cold light of day, this is a lazy summer night under the moon in a heatwave and Lachlan loves him and Jules kisses him like he not only knows it, but loves him more.

Even so, the split second passes.

Lachlan pulls him off, holds him above water.

‘No.’ He wants to make a steel wall of the word that this boy cannot scale.

Jules doesn’t seem upset or surprised, cocking his head with a smug grin, as he lifts a wet hand to play with the bodyguard’s hair, wrapping himself around Lachlan with serpentine grace.

‘Like you don’t want me, Bodyguard,’ he whispers hotly, knowingly, hips rolling and revealing things Lachlan would rather were not revealed in blind discovery. ‘Like I won’t be your good boy when you finally snap and fuck me so hard I—’

Lachlan stops treading water, sinks them both.

It’s all he can do to shut him up.

But Jules doesn’t let go, even underwater.

He clings harder like a greedy little octopus.

He fully takes advantage of the fact that they’re now more hidden than before, kissing Lachlan again, his thigh slipping between Lachlan’s legs.

Kissing underwater is strange. Lachlan has to either kick up toward the surface or let them both drown, but there’s a brief, dangerous moment where he falters and kisses Jules back.

When he drags them to the surface, he tries to shove Jules away, but the boy is wrapped around him completely. Jules moans loudly against his mouth, wanton desire bleeding into the sound as he clumsily drags his tongue over Lachlan’s lips. ‘Want you to fuck me in the water,’ he whispers.