Page 62 of Sugar Coated Secrets

He eyes it. “I see you started without me.”

“You took longer than I thought.”

“I did.” He focuses on the water as if trying to see my body beneath the bubbles.

I swim to his side and put my arms on the edge. “How did it go?”

His gaze lingers on my lips. “It went as I’d hoped. Better, actually. Daire was attentive, and he loved everything. He’s agreed to move forward.”

“That’s wonderful.” I beam up at him, certain it’s not my sexiest grin. “I knew if he just listened, he’d be impressed. You did an excellent job.”

“You did, too.”

I tense. He doesn’t know what I said at dinner. Daire and Everleigh promised they wouldn’t tell. “How?”

“The label, to start with.” He puts his hands on the edge on either side of my elbows and leans closer. “But it’s more than that. You supported me from the moment you learned about it. You loved the bourbon, all my ideas, and you have unwavering faith in me. You get me, Sadie. I can’t say that about a lot of people.”

“You’re easy to get.” I roll my eyes at myself. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m not easy to get. That’s the thing, Sadie. I’m easy to fuck. But this”—he taps his temple—“stays locked away.”

“And this.” I tap his heart, leaving a wet mark on his shirt. “Whoops.”

“It’s coming off, anyway.”

“It is?” My heart gallops. I lick my lips.

Easton runs his thumb across the bottom one.

I bite it and grin, our eyes locked.

His pupils dilate, and the energy between us crackles with anticipation.

“I’m going to need that back so I can undress.”

Slowly, I release my teeth from his skin but keep my lips locked around his thumb.

When he removes it all the way, my mouth makes a popping sound.

He lets out a small growl. It reminds me he likes the chase.

I push back to the far side of the large jacuzzi.

His wolfish smirk appears. He rips his shirt off, buttons flying, and takes his shoes and pants off within seconds.

In his underwear, his gorgeously toned and tanned body on display, he climbs in with me. I send the small blow-up ball that’s been circling the water with me in his direction and shoot to the corner farthest from him.

He growls and watches me, as if planning his attack.

To my surprise, he ducks under the water. Bubbles obscure him from my view. A moment later, big hands skim up my legs, then down, stopping at my ankles. A light tug. He wouldn’t pull me under, would he? My hair is in a messy bun atop my head and dry, except for the back part near my neck.

I tense and squirm away as much as I can.

Slowly, he surfaces, exposing his wet hair, then his face, and his shoulders.

He spits water from his mouth.

“I peed in here,” I say and then laugh.

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