Page 69 of Mess With Me

But I go after him with stealth precision, my eyes open in the clear water.

Even warped with the water, he looks sexy. His big, strong body looks naturally streamlined underwater as he moves with easy strokes.

He doesn’t know I would have been a varsity swimmer had Mom not insisted the schedule would have overlapped with the social calendar she made for me.

I catch up to him easily, bursting out of the water next to him and wrapping myself around his head like a half-naked attack squid. Not a flattering comparison, and all squids are naked, but I’m trying my best.

“You’re like a damned tree!” I say as I try to force his head underwater with my upper body, my legs wrapped ungracefully around his shoulders.

“Are you done?” he asks under me.

I twist so I’m sitting on one of his shoulders, then freeze. I’m suddenly aware of how close his face is to my…other parts.

For a moment, the only sound is water lapping against my ass. I feel it there, just like I feel the prickle of his beard against the top of my thigh. If he turned even a little bit to the side, his face would be pressed right up against the part of my body covered with a single thin swath of black spandex.

When I look down, I’m breathing hard, and not just from the exertion.

“Sasha,” he says, his breath hot on my inner thigh.

Move. Get off his face!

“Sorry, I—”

I slide down and sideways, just a little, slipping my legs over his shoulders and around his ribs. His hands naturally go down with me, his long forearms extending along my thighs, his fingers wrapping themselves around my mostly bare ass.

Our eyes meet, and heat surges between my legs. I don’t even notice the cold anymore. All I feel is the brush of his abs against the apex of my thighs.

My thinly veiled pussy, if I’m being frank.

I drop lower, stopping when my arms rest on top of his shoulders, my breasts above the water.

Inches from his face.

“Sasha,” he says. His voice is a warning. But there’s something in there. A thick thrum of desire. His eyes drop down to my nipples, already hardened points with the cold, tenting the thin fabric of my swimsuit.

Then the man licks his lips.

He actually licks his lips.

I suck in a breath, my nipples aching as if they’re the most sensitive part of my body. Just a brush of his thumb, and the fabric would be gone.

He makes a growling sound like he’s mad at himself. But he grips my hips underwater, lowering me farther.

I don’t think he means to keep us pressed together, but when my legs lock around his hips and his obvious arousal brushes against my pussy, I can’t help the little whimper that escapes my lips.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, so quietly I almost miss it.

“You want to?” I ask.

His eyes snap to mine.

I tighten my legs so his full length notches between my pussy lips.

Griffin’s pupils dilate right before my eyes, his cock twitching against me. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

I squeeze against him, and he makes a low sound in his throat.

Abruptly, he closes his eyes and pushes my hips off him. My body aches where it was touching him.

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