Page 45 of Rookie Season
“Shit, it’s cold!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around herself.
She’s got ink all kinds of places, mostly black like her hair. I want to know every tattoo on her body. To learn why she got each one.
Warm water splashes the back of my head.
“Be chivalrous, man,” Atlas goads.
I hold out a hand to help Chloe up into the hot tub. She climbs in, eyeing the space to find a spot.
“Need somewhere to sit, Chlo?” Jay asks. “There’s room over here.”
She reluctantly wedges in on the far side, holding her tablet carefully out of the water.
“I’ll wait,” Sierra says, wrapping her arms around her.
Protests go up around the tub.
“No way. Get in.”
She takes my hand. If there was any doubt about the chemistry between us, it’s gone now. Her eyes lock with mine, and it all comes back in a rush.
Learning her tattoos can wait. I want her against me. Every damned inch of her skin on every inch of mine. I’ll wrap her around me twice.
“See? There’s no room,” she’s saying.
“Here.” I try to shift sideways so she’s on one side of my calves. Sierra shifts to the edge of the seat.
My knees move automatically to either side of her. Suddenly, there’s room for her to sit back between my legs. It’s not as close as Nova in Clay’s lap or Brooke in Miles’s, but it’s still cozy.
Sierra’s eyes find mine as she twists to look over her shoulder. “You aren’t in the hot tub,” she points out.
Fuck cozy. It’s as if she’s on her knees in front of me. Only a visual I’ve had a thousand times over the past year.
“It’s fine,” I grit out. “Nice suit.”
“Thanks. It was lucky this was wedged in a pocket of my suitcase from whenever my last trip was, or I would’ve been skinny dipping.”
Well, there’s an idea that has my dick paying attention.
Be cool.
“Tell me you’re not getting weather updates on that,” Miles calls to Chloe.
“I’m reading a book.”
“What book?”
“A romance.”
Nova leans in. “Oooh, say more.”
“The couple has a one-night stand, then he comes back into her life way later.”
Sierra tenses between my legs, her shoulders brushing my thighs.
“You got a matching race car bed to go with those shorts?” Sierra whispers.
I lean toward her, close enough that I catch her floral scent over the chlorine of the hot tub.
