Page 24 of Nikolai (Kansas City Reapers)

Maddy. Perfect. Just. Fucking. Perfect.

“Maddy, go back inside the house,” I commanded as kindly as I could manage. I wasn’t thrilled about her interrupting my peace and quiet.

“Yeah, not gonna happen, buddy,” she chuckled, stepping up into the tub carefully. But not before slipping off the towel that covered her bikini-clad body. The little red number she had on was doing a hell of a job. On me, at least.

The red fabric clung to her like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination, yet covering everything it needed to. Held together by tiny ties, I wasn’t entirely sure how women walked or moved, let alone swam, in little bits such as that.

She settled in, and I made up my mind to pay her no attention. I was out here to relax, and I was not about to let her ruin that for me. Instead, I focused on the jets pounding away at my lower back, though I doubted water could beat those knots into submission.

Do not go down that road, Niko, I silently scolded myself. Putting the words beat and knots and submission to the image of her barely clothed body wasnothelping anything.

“Tough day?” she asked, breaking the silence with that feisty little attitude of hers.

“Can a man not get ten minutes of peace around here?” I groaned, rubbing my eyes.

“Aw, poor buddy. Youmust have had a tough day, huh?” The utter audacity of the tiny little twit had mypalms aching to slap her pert little ass into the submission she so desperately needed.

“Apparently not, since you came to stay,” I grumbled, more to myself than to her. I did not want to engage with her. Not now.

“How do you think I feel, Nikolai? Stuck here with four strange men I hadn’t met until a few days ago, cooped up like some caged animal. It’s enough to drive a woman insane.”

“You’rethe one who’s being driven insane? Ha! You don’t know the meaning of the word,” I seethed. She was getting under my skin, picking and pulling at the parts of me I kept fastidiously hidden from normal society. It took strength and composure. And that composure was at its breaking point.

“Yes, I am the one who’s going crazy staying here with you all! I need something todo. Something to occupy my time!” she shouted right back, sitting up straight. The water lapping at her breasts drew my attention down, much to my chagrin.

But I was not about to back down from a challenge.

And what adeliciouschallenge she was.

“If you are having trouble occupying your time, then why don’t I give you something to keep you busy?” I pushed right back. That delicious flame flickered between us, the heat hanging so thick in the air that it was nearly visible, melding and mixing along with the steam that surrounded us. It kept my mind focused on only one thing:her.

“Oh really? You think you can find something to occupy my time…buddy?” The way thatlast word, that fucking little name she called me, tore at my dominance like a wild bear attacking — there was only one thing I could do.

My hand slid under the veil of her hair, right at the nape of her neck, faster than she could even realize. My fingers thread through her damp, silken hair, fisting the tendrils in my grasp as I tugged her head back with force.

The gasp that fell from her lips was music to my ears.

“You’re dangerous, princess.”

“Too much for you to handle, buddy?”

“Call me buddy one more time. I dare you.” Our lips were only millimeters apart as our panting breaths mingled.

This was the moment. The moment I turned around, releasing her from my grasp. The moment I walked away, with my integrity and control still firmly within my grasp.

“What are you going to do, buddy? Kiss me?” Her challenge was an invitation, and the last straw.

That moment came. And then it went.

Tugging her closer with a jerk of my hair-filled fist, my lips crashed into hers.

She met me with wild abandon, like thunder meeting lightning. Our lips opened, my tongue seeking hers, hers fighting with mine. It was a battle of wills, of lips and tongue.

Her skin felt slippery and silken beneath my fingers as my hand found purchase on the small of her back beneath the water’s lapping surface. Fingertips trailed up my sides, tickling at my skin before her nails dug into my flesh, scratching down my ribcage hard enough it was sure to leave marks. Marks I wanted. Marks I needed.

I wanted her covered in my marks — and to be covered in hers in return.

Her fingers moved up and over my chest to grip my shoulders. Christ, I could lose myself in her touch, her taste.

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