She was preparing to sink in again, when she heard the sound of the sliding doors being open, and the man who had been the lead of her fantasies walking out to her. Even the way he walked turned her on.
Spine locked into place, strides long and meaningful. He had his left hand jammed in his pocket, and perhaps a different man would look more approachable, more casual in that position. Not Knox. Knox was prepared for everything, and that was impressive for someone who had come from nothing—but who had done a lot, almost everything, whether she was prepared or not.
“I hope it’s okay I’m in the pool,” she said. He didn’t seem like the type that would chastise her for using his pool, but could be that he had a routine at night, something to do with his writing schedule, and she distracted him.
He shortened the distance until he squatted next to her, a smile pulling at his sexy lips. “Yes. I also have to thank you.”
“Why?”
“Because I was kind of stuck in my story, but after talking to you about it earlier… I’ve been able to concentrate. Your suggestion about some deeper romantic entanglement for him. I thought about it, but today, after you mentioned it, that idea became clear, and I wrote a few pages. And am pumped to do more.”
“That’s excellent.”
“I forgot how talking can be helpful. I mean, I talk to my agent and my script person and stuff, but it’s different when it’s someone not from the industry. Fresh perspective. You planted a seed.”
“Well. I’m glad I could help. I have my hidden talents, it seems.” Some not so hidden, or rather, desperate to be discovered.
“Is there anything I can do for you? I’d like to thank you.”
Fuck me? The idea sent tingles down her sex. If she were so brazen, she’d scare him away. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could even talk like that, with so much confidence, about sex. What if she was awful at it? She probably would be, because of lack of practice. Though she’d heard she was a decent kisser. “Join me in the pool. All my friends are out of town because it’s summer, and I’d love some company,” she said casually, even though her heart was doing overtime trying to keep up. Also, why did she say all my friends? To sound sophisticated? She had only a couple of friends, Madison included.
He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, which gave her the perfect excuse to admire his profile. She basked in his features, his striking dark green eyes, his nose, the shape of his mouth. The tips of her fingers tingled to touch him, to run along his features, then dip lower and caress the hard bridges and angles of his strong body.
“Okay, fine. Let me go change,” he said, and in one swift motion, got himself to his feet and dashed indoors.
A sense of victory spread through her. A small one, sure. But progress.
Every bone in her body urged her to throw herself at him, the pulse between her legs too loud to ignore. But she had to keep soothing her own libido. If she were too aggressive, she’d ruin any chances. But damn it, how hard was it?
She’d resisted a lot of advances from the opposite sex. She should be stronger than this. Yet the certainty he was the one to be her first one carried her through, egged her on to listen to her instincts. If only she became better at managing them.
If only—
He returned wearing dark blue board shorts.
Her gaze darted to him, and she should have been more discreet, but to see his body like that did crazy things to her logic. The man had a perfect chest, with the right amount of hair arrowing down the V-shaped part of his lower abs and into his shorts.
She quivered as she wondered how good it’ll be to peruse her fingers on his body, to caress all the ridges and angles of his six-pack abs—maybe a 12 pack, she wasn’t sure. A close inspection would sure be helpful.
“How often do you dip in this pool?” she asked when he joined her. He descended into the pool from the other side, keeping a good distance between them.
She naturally gravitated toward him, but didn’t get too close not to act so eager. Keeping her hormones in check was a mammoth task.
“Not often enough.”
“I guess when you’re used to it, right?”
“I wasn’t always used to it,” he said, more to himself than to her.
She tilted her head, interested. She didn’t know much about his childhood. In fact, most of what she knew was the small things Madison told her, general things that every kid says about their parent, or his bio. “How so?”
“I grew up in a small town in Seattle. My parents were very hard working, and I always dreamed of having a pool. It got so hot in the summer.”
“I can imagine. What brought you to Cali?”
“I got a scholarship for creative writing. I did a lot of odd jobs back then. Had too many roommates to count on one hand.”
A thread of pride surged through her. Hearing this from him somehow made it more intimate, more special than reading about it in an article online. He could have said no to her invitation to join her in the pool, but he hadn’t. He could have changed his mind, but he was still here. Either she was overthinking like a champion, or a part of him was interested in her—even if he didn’t admit it to her or even himself. She clung to that pearl of hope like an oyster to a shell. “I’ve had roommates too, though honestly, in a perfect world I wouldn’t. I like my own space.”
