She throws a wink over her shoulder that nearly drops me to my knees. “After our little restroom moment, modesty seems kinda pointless, don’t you think?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer—just turns and walks towards the water.
Heat crawls up my neck at the memory of her pressed against me, the sounds she made when I kissed her. “Speaking of that,” I say, finding my voice, “you never did explain why you ran.”
She pauses at the water's edge, her back to me. “Maybe I wasn't ready for how it made me feel.”
“And how was that?”
She glances over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that makes my heart skip. “Out of control. I don't do out of control.”
“Could have fooled me,” I drawl, deciding to push a little. “You looked pretty relaxed after that... release.”
“You’re insufferable,” she says, eyes narrowing like she’s trying to decide between slapping me or kissing me.
“Part of my charm, Legs.” I let the nickname roll slow and deliberate, watching how it lands.
Her brows lift. “Legs?”
I shrug, mouth tugging into a grin I know drives her insane. “Seems fitting. You’ve got a pair that could start bar fights.”
Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t look away. Sheneverlooks away. “Is that so?” she murmurs, turning to fully face me.
And heaven help me, I have to lock my jaw just to keep from groaning out loud. She’s standing there in nothing but her damn underwear—water-kissed skin glowing, her ocean blue eyes alight, long wet brown hair tucked behind her glistening shoulders, curves sculpted into something I could worship, and legs that go on forever. My eyes flicker down before I drag them back up with effort that feels almost physical.
She smirks. “Do all the women you meet get charming little nicknames like that?”
“Nope.” I step closer, close enough to breathe her in. “You get the special treatment.”
There’s a flicker in her gaze—soft, fleeting, something dangerously close to letting me in—but then it’s gone, hidden beneath a smirk that’s pure challenge.
“Well then,” she says, voice like honey and threat, “I better live up to it.”
And just like that, just turns and dives.
And holy hell,what a dive.
She cuts through the water like she belongs to it, muscles fluid and powerful, her body arching into the air before disappearing beneath the surface. When she resurfaces, it’s not graceful—it’swild. Hair slicked back, face turned toward the sun, laughter spilling out of her mouth like joy is something she exhales.
She throws her head back and the water beads off her skin in a spray of light. Her lips part, her neck long and wet and glistening, and I swear I stop breathing.
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
My jeans tighten, painfully.
And it’s not just lust—it’s that damn ache again. Thatneed.
Because it’s not just how good she looks. It’s howfreeshe is. Unapologetically alive. Like the river answers to her. Like every drop of water wants to be close to her skin.
And I want that, too.
I want to touch her in that moment, in that head-thrown-back, wild-laughing freedom. I want to be the one whoputsthat look on her face. The one who undoes her, strips her bare—not just of clothes, but of whatever armor she’s still wearing between us.
She flips onto her back, floating, arms out like wings, breasts rising just above the surface, nipples hard through the thin fabric of her bra. And I’m gone. Completely gone.
Every nerve in my body tightens. I want her.
In the water.
