Page 71 of Surge

Chapter Twenty-Three

Riley

Isat at the kitchen island as Morgan moved around the kitchen. He was making shrimp alfredo, which he said was his specialty.

He bent over to get a pan from a cabinet near the stove and I couldn't help my look as the leather pants stretched tight over his ass and hamstrings. I shouldn't have been checking him out, but when he bent over, it was right there in my face practically begging me to.

"Do you like garlic?" He put the pan on the stove and adjusted the heat on the boiling linguine noodles. "I like a lot, but if you don't like it, I can put less."

"Put less." I loved garlic, but the last thing I wanted was for my breath to smell. Not that it mattered what my breath smelled like. My eyes went to his lips and I inwardly chastised myself.

He smirked and I slid off the barstool, needing some air. I walked across the living room to the sliding doors he had opened the second we were in the room. The coolness of the air hit my skin and I grabbed the throw blanket off the couch and wrapped it around myself before stepping outside.

The outside of their house was even more impressive than the inside. It seemed like they lived right in the middle of the ocean. I kept a safe distance from the giant pool that had lounge chairs and other outdoor furniture around it, and stopped a few feet away from the railing at the edge of the cliff.

I wasn't scared of heights, but the water on the other side of the glass barrier scared the crap out of me. I took a calming breath and inched forward until I was right at the railing.

The sky was darker than usual with an approaching rainstorm, and the waves crashing against the cliff face below sent a light mist into the air. It was breathtaking, but also terrifying. Someone could easily be thrown over and plummet to their death.

I turned back toward the house. Almost the entire back was floor to ceiling windows. My eyes traveled to Jax's bedroom, and even though the window for the bathroom was tinted so you couldn't see in, I could imagine him standing there on a daily basis, his hand stroking his cock.

Jesus. Get it together, girl.

Shaking my head, I walked back to the house where Morgan was tossing sauce, shrimp, and noodles in a sauté pan. His muscles flexed along his arm and shoulder as he flicked his wrist.

"Why don't you get a few bowls out for us." He raised his chin to a cabinet to his left without looking back at me.

"Have you ever thrown anyone over the railing?" I opened a few cabinets before finding pasta bowls.

Their cabinets were clean and organized with white dishes. I had expected a hodgepodge of various plates and bowls. For being teenage boys, they were tidy.

"Are you offering to be the first?" When my jaw dropped open, he threw his head back and laughed. "We dive off it during high tide."

"But how do you not... die?" I took the bowl he had served for me and grabbed a few forks from the silverware drawer.

"I think you know why." We sat down at the seats at the island. "If you don't like it, we have a frozen pizza I can throw in the oven."

I spun my fork in the noodles and stabbed a shrimp. As soon as the food hit my tongue, I moaned. It was more delicious than any upscale seafood restaurant could make.

"It's so good!" I took another bite, not even bothering to waste time making a presentable bite.

Morgan flashed me an award-winning smile that almost made me choke. "I went out and caught the shrimp this morning."

"In your boat?" I already knew the answer, but part of my brain still refused to believe they were... aquatic creatures.

"Nope. Not in a boat." The smile didn't leave his face as he dug into his own bowl of pasta. It was hard to imagine them as anything other than human. I should have felt more panicked or shocked, but I also read way too much paranormal romance.

After eating and putting the dishes in the dishwasher, I stood awkwardly by the island. The rain was falling now and the lights had turned on in the living room, casting a romantic glow across the space. Through the windows, I saw the pool lit up with blue lighting, and steam was coming off the top.

"Ready to swim?" He walked around the island and put his hands on either side of me, pinning me against it. "The pool is heated."

I looked past him at the pool. "I don't do water, and I don't have a swimsuit."

His head tilted to the side. "You're scared of the water." It wasn't a question. "Why?"

A small bead of sweat worked its way down my back at his nearness, and the fact we were talking about swimming made my skin heat. "I almost drowned when I was seven."

He made a disbelieving noise and moved back, reaching behind his neck and pulling his shirt off. My lips parted and I sucked in a breath of air. I had seen them all without their shirts, even up close. There was something about being close enough to touch him and there being no one else around that made me feel the need to clench my legs together.

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