"What are you doing?" He tried to sound and look pissed when he moved his arm and grimaced at her, but his composure was shaky. And she knew it.
"You are!" She grinned wide. "Oh my God!" She raked her fingers lightly over his stomach and he let out a half-grunt. He snatched her wrists and called up every ounce of control he possessed.
"Merina, stop it."
But she didn't stop it. Apparently his "mad" tone needed work.
She threw her naked body over his partially clothed one and wrestled one of her hands free. He swiped the air in an attempt to grab her, but not before she dug her fingers into his ribs. Unable to keep from it, he let out a howl of a laugh. She didn't let up and soon he was laughing so hard, he feared he might break something. Especially after a potentially bone-breaking orgasm that had left him devoid of enough strength to resist.
"Please," he wheezed, reaching for her tickling hand again and missing it.
"He begs," Merina said between elated giggles.
"For the love of Christ!" That came out in a shaky whisper. He'd finally lost his damn voice from laughter. That was a first. Finally, he got a vise grip on her other hand. Rolling her onto her back, he trapped her beneath him. He watched as her eyes smiled along with her mouth.
When he managed a full breath, he grumbled, "You're impossible."
"And you're ticklish." So damn proud of herself. He liked that look. Too much. Enough to want to see her proud of her accomplishments again. Would she feel that way when he handed over the Van Heusen? Would she be proud she'd earned it back at the cost of marrying him for a few soul-stealing months?
The thought made him frown.
"I'm not ticklish," he argued. "That was a rare postcoital reaction."
"Did you just use the word postcoital?" She laughed the word and something in the center of his chest unfurled.
He felt light and happy and…weird. Weird because feeling both light and happy wasn't what he was accustomed to.
"You'd think after the counter, the kitchen chair"—her eyes rolled up and to the left, where Reese had taken her on his lap a few minutes ago—"then sliding me halfway across this ice-cold floor, you'd have a dirtier word for it."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he sneered, but secretly he admired her teasing tone as much as he'd admired her puckering nipples.
"I would like to warm up," she said.
"Fair enough." He kept hold of her wrists and pulled her up so that she was sitting. "That, I can fix." When he knew he could scramble away safely, he let her go. Then he stood and tore off the remainder of his suit. Once he was bare-assed naked and Merina had climbed to her feet, he lifted her into his arms. He carried her out of the kitchen, around to the back of the house, and into the enclosed pool room.
"Hot tub," she breathed. He put her down and opened the door to the enclosure.
"Second best way to warm up." The first being sex.
"I forgot we had a hot tub."
We.
Here came the feeling of "weird" all over again.
"You're genius." She lifted to her toes, sliding her body along the length of his, to put a soft kiss on his mouth. For a change he wasn't thinking of his dick or the fact that he'd be between her legs soon. He was thinking of how he'd pleased her. How she'd referred to what they had together. The we could have been a slip of the tongue, and yeah, it was just a hot tub, but that implied co-ownership was something he hadn't experienced in…a while.
Then she was off, strolling around the edge of the pool to the hot tub and stepping down into the square of hot water. He watched her curvy, naked body sink lower and lower.
"Coming?" she called, not bothering to hide her breasts beneath the bubbles.
God. This woman.
"Hell yes," he answered, trying to sound like his old cocky self and not like the unhinged sap he was turning into. He sank into the water. She glided over, breasts slicking over his chest, her leg rubbing his thigh. His dormant cock sprang to life.
There. Good old-fashioned lust. That, he knew what to do with.
"Your stamina…" She didn't finish her sentence, but she looked impressed with her mouth forming a little "O."
"Still can't pay me a compliment?" He almost said "After all we've been through" but bit his tongue in time.
"You don't need one," she said flatly. Since it was smart to feed that assumption, he did.
"You're right. I have my own hashtag."
She laughed, a sensual chuckle, and moved to sit next to him. He leaned back, his arm resting behind her head. She hummed a low, pleased sound and he closed his eyes, enjoying holding her.
"There's a bedroom over here," she pointed out, a fact he didn't need or want to be reminded of. He hadn't thought of his and Gwyneth's former bedroom since the night he and Merina were lost in the bowels of this house. "Why didn't you choose this as the master suite? It's huge and opens to the pool."
His eyes opened and his chest expanded as he took a steamy breath. So many reasons. "I used to sleep in there," he answered, his tone final.
She stayed quiet, which was suspiciously out of character. He turned his head. She watched him with amber eyes that held no judgment but a lot of questions. Questions he didn't want to answer. Wasn't ready to answer.
She curled into him, hands on his shoulders, and kissed him. He kissed her back and waited for her to ask, but she didn't. Not even when she pulled away and rested her damp cheek on his shoulder. They sat quietly, her half on his lap, the water lapping around them, warm and silky.
It came naturally to wrap her up in his arms, so he did. Just held her, and closed his eyes, and enjoyed not talking.
Chapter 14
I don't know why he's doing this. We never go to his house," Reese grumbled, hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel. He mumbled under his breath that he'd rather stay home.
When she'd met Reese for the first time, Merina would've concluded that this was him being a spoiled baby who didn't want to drive outside the city to his father's house and deal with a cookout on a random June weekend. But knowing the man she shared a home with now, she didn't think it was so simple.