Page 16 of High Seduction
Erin wiggled in one spot and tried to put a name to what was rolling inside. It wasn’t that she wanted to be the one squeezing Tim’s biceps. She didn’t want to be easing a thumb along his neck muscle as he tipped his head to one side and Tripp traced the long, strong line.
Liar.
Jealousy? Of Tripp touching Tim?
She joined in the conversation as it continued, but what she wanted was to face away instead of being tormented as the realization sank in that yes, she was feeling a little of the green-eyed monster.
Turning away, though, was impossible. There was something mesmerizing as strong masculine fingers drifted over the sculpted curves of Tim’s upper body. He moved in obedience to Tripp’s tugs and direction, muscles flexing smoothly, bulging and elongating in a finely choreographed dance. The slick of water clinging to his skin only highlighted the shadows, making the cuts deeper, harder, his lean body showcased like some exotic production.
“What do you think, Erin?”
She blinked herself alert only to discover his gaze fixed on hers, laughing blue eyes catching hold and freezing her in position. She had no idea what the guys had been talking about.
Was it too much to hope she hadn’t been noticeably drooling?
To cover her tracks she deliberately yawned, stretching her arms overhead. “Sorry, I was snoozing on my feet. What are we discussing?”
Tim’s gaze dropped from her face to trickle over her body as she stretched, and once more the urge to get up close and personal with the man rode her hard. He wasn’t hiding his admiration even as he pressed into the massaging hands on his shoulders. “You’re a miracle worker, Tripp,” he breathed. “Thank you.”
They separated, floating into more distant positions as Tripp shrugged. “Years of cross training—I bet we’re all pretty good with our hands.”
Tim’s hands are fabulous in all sorts of ways.Erin caught the flash of fire in his eyes as his lips twisted into a secretive grin. As if he’d heard her private thoughts.
“We were talking about Tim joining the Lifeline team,” Anders offered.
“She already put in a good word for me.” Tim pushed himself up on the deck edge, water streaming off his torso and tight abdominal muscles. “I’ll wait to see what Marcus thinks.”
Tripp nodded. “Well, you get my vote of confidence, if you can face other rescue call-outs as well as you did today. That was a scary situation that developed out of the blue with that snapping cable, and you got out just fine.”
“Thanks to Erin and Anders.” Tim gestured toward them. “I call it like I see it. Nice to know I could drop in and instantly feel the confidence I did working with you. You should be proud of that.”
There was such magic in the man’s charisma. There was no denying its strength as both Tripp and Anders beamed. Erin enjoyed a good pat on the back as much as the next girl, but Tim’s comments were made even better because they were sincerely meant.
What a mixed-up conundrum she faced. Torn between fresh emotions and a fearful mix of old ones.
She didn’t know which way to turn, and the literally steaming-hot man sitting on the pool edge seemed determined to give her far too many options that led to only one destination.
***
Tripp headed out with a comment about picking his partner up from work. Anders left the pool soon after, covering a yawn and offering to get together soon, no matter what Marcus decided about Tim joining the Lifeline team.
Erin... hovered. As if she wanted to go home, and wanted to stay, and both desires were so evenly balanced she’d gotten stuck in limbo.
They moved into the cooler section of the pool, thoroughly heated by the past hour. The colder water around them was still a perfect contrast to the air temperature, and they found a place on the gentle slope of the concrete beach where they could enjoy both the water and air.
He rolled to his side and let himself admire her all over again, the one-piece swimsuit she wore clinging just right and offering a more seductive view than if she’d been naked. Nearly.
Erin lifted her head off her arms and damn near growled. “Do you have to do that?” she whispered.
“Do what?” He stroked her with the words, tempted to stroke her with his fingertips as well, but knowing it was too early.
She narrowed her gaze. “Don’t play coy, it doesn’t suit you.”
“What does suit me, kitten?” he asked. “Or shall I tell you what I’d like to be doing instead of simply admiring you?”
She opened her mouth, anger or frustration rising once again.
He spoke quickly to finish his thoughts before she could lambast him. “Your flying is the best I’ve ever seen, and you’ve sculpted your body into a strong tool for your job. You’ve done well over the years. I’m happy to see it.”
