Page 87 of Thunderstruck
“Great.” Then he pulls off his shirt.
That’s not a good way to describe his movement. Pulling off a shirt is basic. Instinctual. What Cole does is…intentional. His arms flex as he reaches back and grabs the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head with slow deliberation and revealing his torso inch by agonizing inch. His abdominal muscles tense and strain as they come into view, and it’s all I can do to hold on to the edge to keep from sinking to the bottom.
Tossing his shirt aside, he lifts both arms overhead, a smirk on his lips as he twists and stretches. After a few more flexes, he dives over top of me and into the water. When he surfaces and does that little head shake thing to get his dark hair out of his eyes, I nearly whimper, and then he climbs onto Gator’s shoulders and is lifted into the air, water runningover his tanned skin as he runs a hand through his hair and sends a grin my way.
“You up for this, Paxton?” he asks, his voice low and rumbling.
He knows exactly what he’s doing.
I’m shaking as I get onto Loren’s shoulders, and I know before we’ve even started that Cole won’t let me win like the other guys did. There is an undeniable challenge in his eyes. The rest of the team surrounds us like this is going to be the match of the century, but they’ll probably be disappointed. All of these guys are insanely strong and fit, but there’s something about Cole’s ridged torso and rippling arms that makes him look unbreakable. Like nothing in the world can touch him. Like silly tabloids could say whatever they want about him and he’d keep living his life how he wants. Combine that stability with his flirty smile, and I’m a goner.
Loren’s hands wrap around my shins, and he tilts his head back to look up at me. “Ready?”
Cole cocks his head and lifts one eyebrow, silently asking me the same thing.
Oh boy. I’m so not ready.
“Ready,” I squeak.
As the rest of the guys start cheering, Loren and Gator both surge forward, and instinctively I raise my hands, grabbing Cole’s fingers before he can push my shoulders back and knock me from my perch. He locks our fingers together and shoves, but I throw my elbows back so the force of his push simply brings him closer. That was a bad idea. He’s so close that I see the caramel tint to his brown eyes and the flash of his tongue between his lips.
Lips that almost captured mine in that elevator.
Cole pushes again, aided by Gator’s powerful stance, and I squeak as I fall backward. But Loren keeps us upright and moves a few steps back, giving me some space to sit up even though I’m still gripping Cole’s bighands. I’ve been through this enough times tonight that my core muscles are on fire, but I’m determined to give this my all.
“Forward!” I command, and Loren obeys, surging through the water like it’s nothing. I pull our arms in so they’re between Cole and me, hoping Loren’s power is enough to push the other two back and off balance.
But Cole easily spreads my arms out again, and the sudden loss of resistance sends my face careening right into his broad chest. By some miracle he keeps me from breaking my nose on his collar bone by leaning back, but my relief lasts only a moment. Still gripping my hands, he tucks my arms behind me and lets go so he can wrap his arms around my back as he tugs us both to the side, tearing me free from Loren’s shoulders and dunking me in the water.
The cheers overhead muffle as we sink deeper, locked together, and I don’t care that my lungs are burning because I am pressed against the most beautiful man I’ve ever met and have never felt safer.
I feel him kick against the bottom, pushing us upward, and I gulp a lungful of air as soon as we break the surface. Cole immediately pushes my hair out of my face, still holding on to me with his other arm, and I don’t need to kick my legs because he’s keeping us afloat even though I don’t think he can touch the bottom right here.
“You good?” he asks, eyes locked on me as he shifts a few inches to the side to where he can stand.
I narrow my eyes, still taking deep breaths as I try to recover from that whirlwind few seconds. “You were supposed to let me win.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“We all know you’re bigger and stronger and perfect,” I argue. “How about you show a girl some gallantry?”
His hand brushes over my hair again, even though he’s already cleared my face. I think he just wants the excuse to touch me. (For the record, I don’t blame him. My own hands are splayed across his chest, admiringthe muscle on this man.) “I’m always gallant,” he says with a smirk, and his fingers tighten against my waist, drawing a gasp from me. We’re pressed together, skin to skin and our faces only inches apart, and I can see his thoughts racing behind his eyes as he studies my face.
His voice drops to a gruff whisper. “But I’m also losing patience.”
“Me too,” I whisper back.
“You guys good?” Wyatt says loudly.
We break apart, and my head slips beneath the water before I grab Cole’s shoulder to pull myself up again. Does my other hand happen to press against his abs while I do? Maybe.
Not only is Wyatt staring at us as he sits on the edge of the pool, but the rest of the guys are doing the same. I hadn’t realized how quiet the pool had gotten after Cole’s win.
Cole clears his throat. “I was making sure she was okay after that tackle,” he says to no one in particular.
“Sure,” Wyatt says.
“Maybe that article isn’t as phony as we thought,” Grayson adds, folding his arms as his eyes jump between Cole and me. I can’t tell if he’s angry or simply curious. Either way, it’s dangerous.
