Page 59 of Full House

Stepping over the side, he held her hand for balance as her foot met the water.

“What the fuck?”

“What?” Her head whipped to his. He was staring at her hip. She looked down. A large, black bruise about the size of her outstretched hand covered her hip and upper thigh. Her side had been sore and a little red earlier, but the bruise was a new development.

“It looks worse than it feels,” she tried to reassure him.

If his scowl were any indication, she hadn’t succeeded. She quickly submerged herself in the water, so he wouldn’t have to look at it. Out of sight, out of mind and all that jazz.

Alas, that didn’t work either. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” He pulled her back to his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

Victoria mentally rolled her eyes. “I fell from four feet and landed on my hip. What did you think was going to happen?”

“I don’t like that you’re injured.”

She relaxed against his chest rubbing a soothing hand along his forearm. “It doesn’t hurt.” She felt a twinge of guilt for lying—it was sore, just not enough to cause a stink over—but told herself little white lies were okay if they didn’t cause any harm and put Nate’s mind at ease.

He wasn’t falling for it. “There’s no way in hell a bruise like that doesn’t hurt.”

She grimaced. “Fine. But it didn’t hurt enough to make mention of it.”

“You get a hangnail on your pinky and I want to know about it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

His lips skimmed her neck. “Your wiseassness is showing.”

She laughed. “That’s not a word.”

“It should be,” he murmured against her throat. “And your picture would be alongside the definition.”

Her head dropped back to his shoulder, giving his lips better access to her neck. His mouth sucked the spot where her neck met her shoulder before his teeth came into play, nipping at the sensitive flesh. She felt his hand move under the water, finding her leg, his fingers walking up the inside of her thigh.

“What are you doing? she asked, her lips fighting the urge to smile.

“Helping you relax.” His fingers traveled higher, reaching the apex of her thighs.

“I’m already relaxed.” Her lips lost the fight, a smile forming.

“I’m going to relax you more.” His finger slid through her folds, and she arched into his touch.

“I don’t think I can get more relaxed.” His finger entered her, did a few little flicks, then drew slowly back out before sliding up to play with her clit.

“You can, and you will.”

His other hand cupped her breast, squeezing, his palm causing friction against her already erect nipple. It felt good, sending waves of need to her core that was only intensified by the hard, swirling press of his finger.

Her legs fell open farther when he pinched her nipple, rolling it between his fingers. His mouth still sucked at her neck at the spot behind her ear.

“I want you to come,” he whispered gruffly.

She was close. But she wanted more. Dislodging his hands by flipping herself around, she grasped his shoulders, pulling herself up to straddle his lap. Their eyes met—his such a dark brown they were almost black—and held as she raised herself up on her knees. His hands at her waist, directed her hips as she slowly slid down his length. His thumbs dug into her pelvic bones and his fingers into her lower back as they moved in tandem. Neither said a word. Their eyes, never breaking contact, doing all the talking.

Their movements sped, Nate’s grip on her tightened, and all too soon, she was exploding around him. His eyes glazed, and his jaw locked as he slammed her down one last time, holding her steady as his muscles stiffened. They stayed like that for a moment in time, not only connected in body but in soul.

≈≈≈

Breathing heavily, Victoria flopped against Nate’s chest. His arms came around her, rubbing along the smooth skin of her back. She was completely limp, and he couldn’t stop the small, satisfied smile that transformed his lips.

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