Not just the kiss. Not just her.
The wholedamn thing.
The heat of the morning sun baking the porch boards beneath us. The humidity already rising like steam off the lake. The scent of fresh-cut wood and sweat and her skin—all of it curls around me like smoke.
When we finally pull apart, I’m panting harder than I should be for a man who hasn’t moved. She leans back just enough to look at me, lips swollen, eyes bright.
I let out a low sound—part groan, part helpless laugh—and drag the back of my hand across my forehead. “I might combust.”
Tessa laughs quietly, her smile a mix of mischief and something softer. “Want to take a dip? Lake’s right there.”
“Best idea I’ve heard all week.”
She shifts off my lap, and I miss her instantly. The porch feels colder without her in my arms.
But then she reaches for my hand, lifting it gently. “First things first. Can’t get lake water in that cut.”
I sit obediently while she opens her first-aid kit again. Her movements are all business, but there’s a tenderness in the way she touches me. She dabs on more antibiotic cream, then peels open a waterproof bandage and smoothes it over my palm with a practiced swipe of her fingers.
“Better?” she asks, glancing up.
“Yeah.” I mean it. Not just about the hand.
She stands. “Give me two minutes to change.”
I nod and try not to stare too obviously as she disappears into the cabin. When she comes back out, I have to suck in a breath.
Black one-piece swimsuit. Simple. Modest enough.
Still wrecks me.
It hugs her hips, curves around her breasts, and makes her hair look like wildfire in the sun. She’s tying it up in a knot, and the motion lifts her arms, stretches her torso, exposes just a slivermore skin than before. She catches me watching and raises a brow, like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
“Coming?”
God help me.
We walk down the trail toward the beach, my hand throbbing less than it should, the rest of me far too aware of everything about her.
She doesn’t hesitate when we reach the shore. She bolts—full throttle—into the lake, splashing through the shallows and diving in like the kid she used to be.
I smile, unable to stop it.
Then I follow.
The water’s colder than I expect. Sharp against my skin, in the best way. It cuts through the heat like a blade, makes my pulse steady out. I swim toward her, slow and steady, letting her splash and laugh a little before I get close.
And when I do, I reach for her.
She laughs as I grab her around the waist and pull her close. Her arms looparound my neck, and her wet body presses against mine under the surface.
“Liam—”
“Shah.” I duck my head, kiss her once, soft and slick with lake water. Then again, deeper.
My hands move over her hips, her waist, the small of her back. I let them linger just beneath the line of her suit, fingertips teasing against skin I’ve only imagined until now.
She gasps softly and her eyes search mine. I answer her without a word, kissing her again as I slide my hand lower, at the edge of her swimsuit. My hands grab her buttocks, squeezing and kneading. Soft and warm beneath the water, I feel Tessa shudder against me.
