Page 144 of Into These Eyes
“I don’t have exceptionally soft hands to protect.” He gives me a wink, then climbs up the ladder to deal with the flaking paint higher up.
Once we’ve completed all the sanding and we’re both drenched in sweat, Gavin unspools the garden hose and blasts the cladding. Then, with buckets of sugar soap, we wash the wall, ending up covered in bubbles as we step back to inspect our work.
“Hot enough for you?” he asks.
I swipe my hand across my wet brow. “I’m melting.”
I know it’s coming before it happens, but I still yelp as an arc of water hits my hip. When I turn to face him, he’s staring atthe wall, arms crossed, the hand closest to me holding the hose nozzle.
Another stream of water suddenly hits me square in the chest.
“Oh, you’re gonna get it!” As I leap at him, he sprays me with the hose, sweeping it up and down my body without letting up.
Squealing, I turn and flee, his laughter close behind as water relentlessly drenches my hair, my back, my thighs. When I reach the pool, I jump into the deep end and sink to the bottom. A loud splash spins me around. Underwater, I watch as Gavin spears himself straight at me.
His arms wrap around my waist, and we break the surface, laughing as I wrap my arms around his neck and he guides us toward the shallow end until we can stand. When he tugs at my t-shirt, I raise my arms and let him drag the water-logged material over my head. Our eyes locked, he tosses it over to the pavers.
Then he undoes my shorts, and I slip out of them, not giving a damn where he throws them. I simply can’t look away from the intensity in his eyes as he pulls me flush against him.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I snuggle up to his erection, the cool water no match for the heat seeping through his boardshorts. He walks us over to the large potted ficus beside the steps and rests his back against the pool wall. Keeping our bodies low, the large planter effectively hides us from prying eyes.
I spear my fingers into his wet hair and kiss him, his tongue plunging into my mouth and stroking as his hips rock up, his hands tight on my hips.
But as my body slides against his, I realise he’s still wearing his t-shirt. And I know why. Pulling back to catch my breath, I open my mouth.
“What happened to those other swimmers,” he interrupts, gliding his fingers up and down my spine. “The ones that leave nothing to the imagination from behind?”
I let a slow, satisfied grin lift my lips. “So, youwerewatching.”
“Well, you’d just been spying. Besides, you wore it because you wanted me to see how fucking sexy you are. Damn cheeky of you … driving me out of my goddamn mind.”
I giggle, rocking into his erection, a little chuffed that he had that reaction to me back then. Oh so long ago. Twenty-odd dates and a few weekends ago.
“What’s going through that beautiful brain of yours?” he asks.
I hesitate, unsure if I want to ruin this playful mood. But it feels right. Sliding my fingers from his hair, I graze them over his chest and down into the water. Bunching the hem of his t-shirt in my fists, I lift a little, then pause, asking him the question without words.
A flicker of uncertainty wavers behind his eyes before he slowly raises his arms. I pull the t-shirt up his torso, over his chest and stand so I can free it from his arms. After I toss it past the planter, I straddle his lap and keep my eyes on his.
Trailing my fingers up his bunched muscles, I flatten my hand against his skin, his hard nipple grazing my palm as I move higher. Until I’m covering his tattoo.
“Will you let me see?” I whisper.
His fingers tighten on my hips before he gives a slight nod.
I press a gentle kiss to his lips and when I pull back, I ease my hand away.
Only then do I look.Reallylook.
A heart. Not a love heart. A real heart.
It’s not just broken, but torn apart into four pieces. A few drops of blood fall from the jagged tears and make their way down to his ribs, the red faded and dull, indicating he had this done a long time ago.
Tears spike at the back of my eyes, but I blink them away as I study every detail.
Reaching out, I touch the damaged heart and trace the wounds.
He tenses, the rapid beat of his actual heart tapping against my fingertips. I raise my eyes to his. Brilliant blue stares back, vulnerable and afraid.
