Page 67 of Vicious Temptation

“I would have thought you’d want me to leave. Catching you out here like—” I motion towards her, not sure how to describe her in this moment. “In a bathing suit,” I finish awkwardly. There’s at least two arm’s-lengths between us, and I can count every inch, because I want to be so much closer to her. I’m painfully aware of the fact that if one of us moved towards the other, just a little, I could finally touch her.

“I didn’t mean to stare at you,” I add, feeling the need to apologize, in some way. To make sure she knows that I hadn’t meant to ogle her, that I understand how it makes her feel.

“I know.” Bella swallows, and I see the movement in her long, graceful throat.

“Why did you come out here?” It’s a question that I’m not sure I have the right to ask. I know she was hesitant to tell me anything at all, more than I strictly needed to know, having her under my roof. But at the same time, she has told me parts of what happened. She’s seen me stand up for her with her father. She’s slept in my bed.

And I want to know more about her. About this. I want to know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling, so that I can help her, in whatever form that takes.

Bella bites her lip, sliding her hands through the water again. “My psychiatrist suggested it,” she says finally. “She thought I should try something like this when I was alone. She suggested that maybe it would push me in the direction of a little more progress.”

I wince. “And then I screwed it up by catching you out here.”

She laughs at that, and it startles me. It’s the last reaction I would have expected to that statement. “No, if anything—I think this is more progress, right? The first time I’ve been out of my bedroom in this little clothing since—since before…and I end up sharing my night swim with an equally underdressed man.” She laughs again. “One with no interest in me, but maybe that’s why it’s working.”

Blood rushes in my ears, and I have to force myself to think straight, to try to react nonchalantly. The way I should react, considering the fact that Bella, somehow, thinks I’m entirely uninterested in her. But I clearly take a second too long to smooth my expression and hide what I’m thinking, because I see the look on her face shift.

A small line appears between her eyebrows. “You don’t, do you?” she asks softly, her voice suddenly hushed, thick. “You said you weren’t interested in anything romantic, with anyone.”

“I’m not.” That’s easy enough to say, because it’s the truth. I’ve gone over it a dozen times in my head, at least, in regards to her, and why she deserves better than me. I can’t give any woman a real relationship, not anymore—and especially not Bella. Not the kind of relationship she should have.

She nods quickly, a smile appearing on her lips. “Good,” she says with a small laugh. “I don’t think I could do this if you were trying to seduce me.”

I blink at her, momentarily confused—and then Bella sweeps her hand through the water, splashing me.

She darts backward, laughing, and I know better than to encourage this. I know that right now, I should be explaining how I feel, apologizing for the mixed signals, apologizing for wanting her at all.

But Bella is laughing, a smile on her face, light-hearted and playful for the first time in all the time that I’ve known her, as if the privacy of the night has unlocked something in her, and given her permission to be herself. As if she’s lost her fear, briefly, and has remembered how to be happy.

Desire winds hotly in my belly as I splash her back, moving across the pool towards her. She returns it with another, ducking and laughing, dodging me—although I keep enough space between us that I don’t risk accidentally touching her. She splashes me again, drenching me, and then swims towards the wall, treading water as I splash her again, following.

A few inches away, I stop, the water settling between us. Her hair is soaked, slicked back away from her face, her blue eyes huge. She’s gripping the sides of the ledge beneath her, sitting on it with her back to the pool’s edge, and my pulse throbs in the hollow of my throat.

“You’re looking at me like that again,” she whispers, her voice so hushed that I almost miss what she says. But not quite.

“How?” It comes out on a rasp, and I don’t know how she could possibly, ever, think that I don’t want her. Her relative innocence when it comes to men is the only answer, because I can hear the lust rolling thickly off my tongue.

“Like you did in the living room that night. When I broke the wine glass.” Her voice is so soft, almost shy, a faint tremor on the edges of the words. “Like?—”

She swallows hard, and I move closer. I can’t help it—it’s instinctual, the way she pulls me in. Her mouth is soft and full, parted, and I want to kiss her so badly it hurts. I want to know how her mouth feels against mine. If her lips are as soft as they look.

“Like that,” Bella whispers, her eyes wide, and I lean forward, my hands gripping the edge of the pool as I lean in to kiss her.

It’s only when I see her flinch that I stop, a breath away from her mouth, and pull back.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly. “I don’t know why I thought—I shouldn’t have?—”

But it’s only half true, because it’s evident why I thought it was the right moment. Or at least, why I couldn’t stop myself any longer. Her eyes are shining with desire, her lips parted, her throat flushed, and her chest heaving with her quick breaths. She wants me, and I can see it written on every inch of her. For the first time in a long time, she’s aroused, and it’s because of me.

Just the thought is enough to make my cock nearly rip a hole in the front of my shorts.

I should apologize and leave. I know that. But all I can think of is the way she’s looking at me—like she wants me and trusts me all at the same time, like she’s as tangled up and confused as I am. My mind starts to form a solution even as I think that I should put a stop to this, before it goes too far and she gets hurt.

“I know you don’t want me to touch you,” I say softly.

“I—” Bella’s mouth trembles. “I don’t know what I want.”

“At the very least, you’re afraid of me touching you. But if you trust me—” I hesitate. “Can I try something?”

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