Page 9 of The Rusalka and Mr. Right

I come up for air with a gasp that has nothing to do with needing to breathe.

The haunting eyes are closed now. Was the glide of her hand to her middle just an accident? I mean, no, not an accident. Maybe she had to tug her suit back into place. She didn’t know I was looking. Or did she?

And holy shit, why? Why is this the most erotic, enticing thing I’ve ever seen?

My body stops a few feet from hers, but I might as well be tethered to her side. I can’t stop staring. Something isn’t wrong with the girl—something is wrong withme. Up close, she’s beautiful, with skin like milk and smooth as glass. Water beads up on it.

She’s like an angel of the sea.

“Do you swim a lot?” I ask.

Fuck. Where’s my boy, Kev? The one with a brain and a reasonably smooth tongue?

“Every day. I love the water. Live for it. Even my... office is a little houseboat. An old one from when Pine Ridge was a canal stop.”

“Wow. An antique.” I have no idea when the fuck canals existed in this country. Before airplanes. I hated history as a kid, loved science.

She can educate me.

Hell, I want to play student and teacher right now, but the subject is definitely going to be chemistry.

Remember what I said about grooves? I can fit in hers. I know that right from the start. Funny how I’m so clear on something while I also feel suddenly a little bit drunk.

“Yes, very old. Very simple, but I don’t spend much time there.” Her smile dazzles me, warm and friendly, while her eyes glint and travel up and down my body. “You swim. You have the stroke and the body for it. Ran track, too. Hurdles? Sprints?”

I’m impressed. She sized me up in seconds. I chuckle as I confirm, “All of the above, but I’m no track star. I hated competing.”

“I hate senseless competition, too. One’s physical joys should remain that—joyous. For fun.”

“I mean, I like sports. My brothers are big on the college circuit. Not the same college.” I’m babbling, and I have to stop. I swallow and say something I would hate to have anyone ask me, but shit, my blood is all flowing south. “You have a really beautiful voice. Where are you from?”

“I was born in the East Siberian Sea.” Her eyes flicker far away, then snap back. “I mean, in a little fishing town on the coast.”

“Cool. Um. Lived here long?”

“Yes, for the last...” Her eyes flicker back and forth from the overhead lights to the water below. “Goodness, it’s been many years. You must be new here. I know most people in town, or at least recognize them—other than the students.” Ocean-blue eyes study me. “They come and go.”

“Well, I’m here for a year to two years, at least. Finishing up my Doctor of Physical Therapy degree and working at the health annex. I’ll stick around longer if I like it.”Or if something catches my interest. Or someone.

Like the goddess in a clinging white bathing suit.

Did her eyes get bigger? Her smile is dark cherry, her teeth glimmering for a split second before she speaks. “Then I’ll have to do everything in my power to make you feel welcome. We need good medical staff in small communities.”

I love the edge of a laugh that’s under her voice. Even more, I love how her fingers are on my wrist now, and how my hand finds its way easily to her waist.

This is faster and harder than any club hookup. Her wet fingers smooth their way up to my shoulder. She doesn’t speak, just holds my gaze, waiting until my lips meet hers.

The thought that we’re strangers dies a swift death.

The loud, sensible voice telling me we haven’t done blood tests, we don’t know each other’s history, we haven’t talked about birth control—muted by something in her soft mouth, stolen by her talented tongue.

Even the last vestige of Responsible Kev screaming that we’re in public does nothing to deter me as her breasts press into my chest.

“I don’t know your name,” I gasp when she lets me breathe. I have the feeling she could keep kissing me for hours. Already my knees feel weak from the way her tongue wrapped around mine and sucked it into her mouth. If you’d asked me yesterday, I would have said that kissing like that was impossible. I would have told you that a simple kiss couldn’t make me hard enough to pop at the slightest touch.

“It’s Marina, and every question you’re asking—I have the right answers.”

Confidence is sexy—but I’m not entirely stupid. “Enlighten me?” I flex my fingers on her backside, and while she’s fairly slender, her rump has the perfect amount of cushion. What’s more, she melts into me, hands on my chest, practically purring.

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