“You love my asshole.” He laughs. “Youloveit.”
I slap at the water, sending a wave straight at his face.
His hands disappear beneath the water, finding my hips and tugging me closer. Our bodies collide, chest to chest, and his breath fans over my cheek, hot and heavy. “You do, don’t you, Poppy? You love it when I get a little rough.”
I do.
I love it so much.
I love the water beading, then dripping down his perfect chest.
I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep my cool, but his body is pressed so tight against mine that I can feel every hard, solid inch of him beneath the water.
But the yard is full of people.
Cash is shouting something obnoxious from the grill. A group of girls in bikinis are giggling by the shallow end. And Paul? Paul’s still sulking by the cooler, glaring daggers at Turner.
We bop in the water, both of us glistening, both of us devouring the sight of one another.
“You sore?” He smiles, eyes flickering to the waterline where my crotch bobs below.
I decide to be honest and nod. “So very.”
But in the best way.
“Do you want Doctor Turner to check it? Kiss it and make it better?”
I glance over at the people in our yard before answering. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” he echoes, drifting closer, his big hands sliding around my waist beneath the water, pulling me flush against him. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.” Turner leans in, his nose grazing the shell of my ear, his breath hot and slow against my skin. “Maybe,” he murmurs, voice a low, seductive drawl. “Or definitely?”
I clench my thighs around his hips, pressing closer, feeling every hard, thick inch of him beneath the water.
“Turner,” I warn. “People are watching.”
“So?” he says, his lips brushing against my jaw, not quite a kiss but close enough to make me tremble. “Maybe they need to see how well I take care of my roommate.”
I feel my eyes widen with surprise—he was never this… flirty before we slept together. Who is this man?!
His hands slide from my waist, to grip my ass beneath the water, holding me tight against his mouthwatering erection. “My tongue can make it better.”
My throat is dry, so all I can do is nod.
“Good girl,” he whispers, squeezing my butt cheeks, making me gasp. “You want me to do it here? In front of everyone.”
My cheeks flame, and I glance around the yard, but no one’s paying attention. Cash is still yammering away at the grill, Paul’s staring at his beer like it personally offended him, and the girls by the shallow end are snapping selfies and gossiping.
But still.
Anyone could see us…
“I am so hard right now.” Turner’s eyes are hooded, his lips curved into a wicked, shameless grin. “As soon as you walked outside, I got a boner. Hard as a fucking rock.”
So crude.
My cheeks flare, heat rushing up my neck, but I can’t look away. His eyes are locked onto mine, and that smirk—that infuriating, sexy-as-hell smirk—sends a fresh wave of heat pulsing through me.
“You’re such a pig,” I whisper, but it comes out breathless, needy and I reach below the water, my hand feeling between us, fingers grazing the bulge straining against his swim trunks. My pulse pounds in my ears as I trace the thick, hard length of him, biting down on my bottom lip to keep from making a sound.
