Page 35 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
When Aspen tries to cover herself with the towel, I tug it away playfully. “Don’t do that. You’re perfect.”
One eyebrow arches as she watches me. “I’m not. But thank you.”
“How do you want to do this? It’s going to be cold,” I warn her.
She drops her towel and dips one toe into the dark blue water, fighting off a shiver. “It’s freezing.”
“Cannonball?” Smirking, I raise a brow at her.
“I think that’s the only way.” She grins and reaches for my hand.
All at once, and with a running start, we hold hands and jump in together. The icy water steals the breath from my lungs, and when we surface, Aspen lets out a shriek.
“Holy shit, that’s freezing.”
I laugh. “I told you.”
She shivers and treads water, humming to distract herself.
“Come here,” I say, opening my arms to her.
Aspen fits herself against me, and suddenly I’m no longer cold. Her soft curves press to my chest, and she feels warm in my arms.
“That’s better,” she murmurs, looking up to gaze at me.
She wraps her legs around my waist and releases a strained exhale. When her eyes meet mine, they’re filled with desire, and my heart nearly explodes.
I know she can feel me hardening, despite the freezing water. As my cock juts out and presses against her ass, her eyes widen and meet mine. “Sorry,” I mumble, but she doesn’t look bothered by this.
So I kiss her. Slowly. Adoringly. Our lips connecting lazily before gently retreating again. But my slow exploration doesn’t last long, because I feel the warmth of Aspen’s fingers threading into the hair at the back of my neck, and then her lips part.
I taste her with measured strokes of my tongue against hers as my breathing quickens. Rocking my hips against her center elicits another of those strained sounds from her. It’s an unspoken promise between us. I would be happy to fuck her into next Tuesday, but not until she’s ready.
“Soon,” I whisper.
Her mouth fuses to mine again, and our kiss deepens. Her hand brushes the front of my shorts, and my cock jerks.
“Maybe we should go inside,” she says on a shaky exhale.
Five little words. That’s all it takes to make me lose my resolve.
While she clings to me, I swim us with one arm back to the ladder attached to the dock, but if Aspen notices my awkward swimming technique, she doesn’t comment on it. She climbs out first and grabs her towel, wrapping herself securely.
The cold water has done nothing to temper my raging erection, and as I climb out behind her, her gaze falls to the place where my shorts are wildly tented in front of me. I should feel embarrassed. I’m like a horny teenager who can’t control his body, but when her cheeks brighten, all I feel is prideful lust.
I tug on a T-shirt and wrap myself in a towel, and then we jog toward the house. Inside and up the stairs, we leave a dripping trail of water in our wake. At the top of the stairs, Aspen tugs my hand.
I follow her to her bedroom. The bed is bigger in this room and it’s neatly made. I spin her in my arms and kiss her again as our towels fall into a damp heap at our feet.
Aspen pulls back and offers me a shy smile. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”
I release a slow exhale and nod. She disappears into the bathroom, which gives me a minute to think.
I don’t know how far she intends on going today, but the decision I made to leave the condoms at home suddenly seems like a very, very stupid one. Maybe there’s a random one still in my duffel bag?
But no, it’s wishful thinking. I know there’s not. And the nearest store is a good forty-plus minutes away. That’s nearly two hours there and back . . . which would totally ruin the mood. Fuck.
Sprinting across the hall, I do the only thing I can think to do with all the blood in my body rushing south. I grab my phone and text Saint.
Hey . . . uh, you have any prophylactics here, by chance?
Pro-what? he replies a second later.
Saint’s dumb ass probably doesn’t know the meaning of the word . . . or how to spell it.
I peek across the hall. The bathroom door is still closed, and I hear running water.
Condoms. It almost pains me to type the word because it means Saint now knows our personal business. But desperate times and all that jazz.
He sends back the emoji of the purple-faced devil with a smirking grin. This is amazing. You are such a fuckup.
Do you or not? I text back.
Master closet. Top shelf. I can’t wait to pick out your new tattoo. You kids have fun!
I pull open the closet door and help myself to a square foil packet. Happy with the expiration date, I set it on the dresser just as Aspen opens the door and reenters the bedroom.
