Page 19 of The Christmas Cover Rule
“I guess it depends.” I pause when the cool oil hits the tops of my shoulders, and it slowly begins to drip down my back.
“Go on.”
I could just laugh it off. Fuck, Ishouldjust laugh it off. It’s one thing to flirt with a stranger, but it’s an entirely different thing to flirt with the guy you’re fake dating and potentially starting to have less-than-fake feelings for. But when his hands run through the oil and his thumbs press into the muscles at the base of my neck, I hear myself whisper, “What kind of freaky stuff are you into?”
I melt into his touch as his palms spread slowly over my shoulder blades. He’s deliberate with his movements, taking his time, covering every inch of my skin, and leaving a burning trail in his wake.
“With you? It feels like the possibilities could be endless.”
My breath hitches both at his words and the way he’s trailing his fingers down my spine.
“Is…is that something you’ve thought about?”
“Only since the moment I met you.” His voice is warm like honey pouring down my back, and heat blooms fromunder his touch. It feels like I’ve forgotten how to breathe as I replay those words over again.
Somehow, his hands move further down still, until he pauses at the waistband of my bikini bottoms, either waiting for me to react or, better yet, having trouble holding onto his own restraint.
When Jonas got back to the room this morning, I blamed the intense physical reaction I was having on him standing in front of me in nothing but his running shorts. The way his eyes boldly and unabashedly raked over my body sent the most delicious shivers down my spine, and when he rubbed his calloused palm against the back of my hand, it made my knees weak.
That touch had lingered. But this. This touch is claiming me. His hands resting at my waist have awakened a response I didn’t even know I was capable of.
“Stella, these dimples...” He blows out a breath, resting his thumbs at my lower back while the rest of his large hand wraps around the curve of my waist. “They’re the perfect spot for my thumbs to hold on to.” I feel the cushion shift beneath me, and suddenly his mouth is whispering against the shell of my ear, “Like they were made for me.”
I’m already powerless to resist his touch, but goddamn,his words. My body relaxes back into him, and I close my eyes, dropping the back of my head to his shoulder, exposing my neck to him. The thin fabric of my bathing suit does nothing to hide my pebbled nipples that only grow harder as Jonas drags his nose along the column of my neck. His lips press to that spot on my throat that beats so wildly it feels like my heart has traveled upward, and then his mouth is gone. It was so soft and brief, I wonder if I made the whole thing up.
I know that I need to pull myself away. I’ve taken this too far, unable to tell what’s real anymore—starting with his touch and ending with my feelings.
“How’s that?”
“G-Good,” I stutter, coming out of my trance.
Jonas scoots back, and I immediately miss his warmth behind me. He stands from the poolside bed and faces me.
My jaw falls, but he doesn’t bother hiding his smirk as he adjusts the massive erection in his swim trunks.
I try to look away, to clear my throat, to do anything but stare.
“Yeah, Stell. That was all you.” He reaches his hand out to me, and I slide mine into his. “Let’s go cool down.”
JONAS
Thank fuck for a swim-up bar.
I order us two Presidentes and carry the plastic cups over to the side of the pool where Stella is waiting.
“Darling,” I say, handing her the drink, and she takes it with a laugh.
“I have a question.”
“Hit me.”
“How is a guy like you still single?” Her sunglasses might cover her eyes, but I still catch the gleam.
“What’s a guy like me?”
“You know,” she lifts a hand in my direction while taking a sip of her beer, “you’re funny, successful, unbelievably hot and kind. So frickin’ kind.”
“You think I’m hot?” I ask, sinking down into the water.
