Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“So how would you make a new routine?” he asks, sitting up. “Break it down for me.”
“Hmm. Okay.” I know Keaton has always wanted to watch me, and I never gave in. Tonight’s the night, then. I came all this way to give the man what he wants. “This song works pretty well, honestly. It has a nice steady riff.”
The track is “Girls Like You” by Maroon Five. I swing my hips and let Adam Levine’s voice slide down my soul. With a flick of my wrist, I remove the hat and hold it between my hands.
A quick drop into a faux split makes Keaton’s eyes widen. “Oh, hell yes,” he says, laughing. “Keep going.”
Popping up again, I circle my hips in time with the beat. Keaton’s hot gaze is pasted on me, and I love his attention. Without dropping the rhythm, I toe off my shoes and kick them out of the way. I don the hat, and ease my way across the room in a sensuous roll of torso and shoulders. Then I start in on the buttons of my shirt, teasing them open one by one.
When I run my hands down my bare chest, Keaton flops back onto the bed with a groan. “I’m dead,” he says. “Three months without you and now this. It’s the best kind of torture.”
“Then it’s working,” I say, adding some footwork while he watches with wide eyes. “Stripping is all about the tease.”
“You’re great at teasing,” he grumbles. “Get over here already.”
“Oh, I’d like to. But I can’t fuck you during a party at your parents’ house.” Anyone could look through the window, or walk in here looking for the john.
He sighs. “I suppose not. Want to go swimming? Maybe that will cool the fire in my trunks.”
“Sure, LobsterShorts. Take me swimming.”
He sits up and smiles at me, and that smile makes me stupid.
How did it take me so long to trust this man? “Keaton?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you. And I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out how to get over my own bullshit before and just be your guy.”
He swallows. “Can you be now?”
“I want to. If you’ll let me try.”
He gets off the bed. “Come here.” He pulls me into a hug. “We have to go swimming now, otherwise I’m going to maul you.”
“Okay,” I whisper in his ear.
“I love you, too. I know it’s easier for me to get there than it was for you. I don’t blame you for your scars.”
“Thank you,” I mumble. I wrap my arms around his wide body and sigh. “Are we really going to go outside and pretend we’re not just counting the minutes until we can take each other’s swimsuits off?”
“I have an idea,” he says. “Follow me.”
He walks out of the room, and I hurry after him down another hall I didn’t notice before. He grabs two striped beach towels off a stack and keeps going.
We leave the house again. But we don’t go back to the party. We cross the darkening side lawn and then a driveway paved with white stones. “Is this all your property?” I ask.
“Nope.” He leads me farther, until I spot another house and another pool. “We’re going to the neighbor’s.”
“Why? Where’s the neighbor?”
He hooks a thumb back toward his place. “Enjoying the free food and booze, courtesy of my parents. Mrs. Pennyworth won’t be home for hours. She closed down the party last year.”
Sure enough, the neighbor’s house is dark. The sky is a deep blue now, heading towards black. The only lights on here are in the pool itself, underwater.
Keaton tosses the towels onto a chair. And then? He tugs the lobster shorts off his trim hips and drops them, too. Naked, he walks to the edge of the pool and dives in.
Hayworths really do know how to party. He wasn’t wrong about that.
I quickly shed my own suit, looking over both shoulders, hoping nobody is watching. But nobody is. I follow him into the water, which is a surprisingly comfortable temperature.
This is the Hamptons. It’s heated, of course.
“Wow,” I say when I come up for air again. “I like the way you think.” I swim over to Keaton, who’s sitting on what turns out to be an underwater bench. “This pool is nice.”
“But they don’t have a sun shelf,” Keaton says, teasingly.
“You’re right. Piece of trash, then. I’ll renovate after I buy the place from Mrs. Pennysworth.”
Keaton doesn’t laugh, though. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and kisses my neck.
I let out a hot breath. And as his mouth makes a slow journey across my skin, I close my eyes and let the sensation push every thought from my mind. In just seconds, I have goosebumps and a hard cock. The warm water laps against my body, and I groan.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Come here.”
Tonight it doesn’t seem weird at all letting Keaton boss me around. I climb into his lap willingly, straddling his big thighs. “I love the Hamptons,” I say as I lean in and kiss him.