Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
He was torn. Until she tipped her head and smiled.
For fuck’s sake, how could he resist? She was clearly confident in herself and must trust him enough to invite him in the tub with her.
Was he actually considering it? Stepping into that hot water could be actually stepping into some hot water.
But if he did join her, his next dilemma would be whether to get in naked like her, go inside to grab swim trunks or simply wear his boxer briefs like he had the other night.
Apparently, she had zero hang-ups about being naked in front of him, unless she was under the impression the water hid more than it did. He could assure her that with the underwater lights turned on, it didn’t. His view might not be crystal clear because of the jets, but it was clear enough.
He should just walk away. Leave her be. Go to bed.
Forget that her skin was slick, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed.
Fuuuuuck. Yeah, he wasn’t going to forget the sight before him anytime soon.
“Don’t feel obligated to be in the buff if you get in. Wear as much or as little as you’re comfortable with. Or be adventurous and don’t wear anything at all.” Again, her slender shoulders lifted and fell. “It won’t bother me either way.”
“Sloane—”
“Or don’t. No pressure. But if you decide to join me, I can cover my eyes until you get in, if that will make you more comfortable.”
While she wanted to make him comfortable, sitting across from a naked Sloane would be far from that, and not for the reason she assumed.
His eyes flicked to the wineglass she held. “How much wine did you drink?”
She lifted the glass slightly. “This is my first.”
He wanted to make sure she wasn’t drunk since mixing alcohol and a hot tub was a good recipe to get tipsy. If she wasn’t sober, it would make his decision a lot easier.
Buster’s words came back to kick him in the ass. It ain’t rocket science.
They’d be simply two adults sharing a hot tub. It happened all the time at nudist resorts. Right? And when they shared it the other night, it was a good reminder of why he bought the tub in the first place. It was a perfect way to de-stress after a shitty day.
Spending all day on his feet at Pizza Town both looking at and listening to Buster had sucked when he’d much rather stare at Sloane. The conversation would undoubtedly be better, too.
He didn’t know why the fuck he was hesitating. Any of his BAMC brothers would’ve been naked in two seconds flat and diving headfirst into the tub before the invitation even finished leaving her mouth.
It ain’t rocket science.
No, it wasn’t. It was biology.
He forced himself to take his time unlacing his boots, pulling off his socks and long sleeve T-shirt, unbuckling his belt and shucking his jeans. Like last night, he tossed his clothes onto the lounge chair next to her towel and robe.
Briefs on? Briefs off?
The truth was, if his blood decided to race south, he wouldn’t be able to hide it either way. It would be obvious whether strictly in the flesh or wrapped in wet cotton.
When he raised his head, he noticed Sloane watching him intently. And as he hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband, she licked her lips.
Sweet baby Jesus. The little pink tongue sweeping across her plump bottom lip wasn’t going to help his dick stay in its current state.
Pizza with pepperoni. Pizza with pineapple. Pizza with… with…
Fuck it.
He shoved his underwear down, hoping his dick didn’t decide to turn from a soft mushroom to a steel rod. Then, without meeting Sloane’s eyes—eyes she did not cover—he hurried to climb the damn steps and sink into the hot water.
Once he was settled, he leaned his head back and released a long, loud sigh when the water immediately began to soothe away his aches and pains. He didn’t realize just how damn bad his feet hurt until then.
He closed his eyes in ecstasy—and to prevent staring at Sloane—before sliding lower to escape the brisk fall air. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes as he decompressed.
When something brushed against his calf, his eyes popped open just in time to catch a glimpse of her foot retreating. Sneaking a quick glance at her, he found her eyes closed.
Most likely it was simply a fluke. The hell if he wanted to misconstrue an accidental brush of her foot and make a damn fool of himself by thinking it was something more.
But if she was making a move on him…
Encouraging him…
His brain spun with the possibilities.
Then he felt it again. This time a slow, sensual drag of her toes through the water and along his outer thigh.
Yeah, that was no damn accident.
Even though he didn’t ask for its opinion, his dick strongly agreed with him.