Page 53 of Something that Could Last

She wades over and starts to sit down beside me, but I don't let her. Instead, I pull her onto my lap and rest my hands on her hips. “Better?” I inquire.

“Much.”

I hate to bring this up, but there’s something that's been nagging at me and I have to ask. “So, did you ever talk to your boss about what happened with Caleb?” She stiffens in my arms and I immediately regret asking. But she didn’t mention anything about it today, so I was worried they either weren't taking her seriously, or she’d been afraid to say anything.

She sighs and drops her gaze to my chest. The defeated look on her face makes my heart ache and anger burn like acid in my gut.

“Yeah, I talked to them. They’re going to change Caleb's schedule around so I won’t have to work with him while they investigate the incident.”

Investigate? What the hell does that mean? That little cocksucker cornered and harassed her. He put his hands on her!I don't say anything though, because I don't want to upset her. I just nod my head and change the subject.

We talk for a long time, all the while I'm kneading her tight muscles. I start with her shoulders and back and work my way down to her thighs. I know they must be sore from her run and pushing that archaic mower around her yard. I move her off my lap so I can reach her calves and feet. When I get down to her heels, she lets out a soft moan as her eyes close and her head falls back.

“That feels absolutely amazing. My feet hurt so bad after a shift at Rosie's.”

“Glad I could be of service.” She opens her eyes and lifts her head up to meet my gaze.

“I think your fingers might be magic,” she sighs as I switch to her other foot.

“You have no idea, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I think I havesomeidea,” she responds playfully. Her green eyes glow with heat and need, and I can't take anymore. I release her foot and pull her back onto my lap.

“Perhaps I should show you the full range of what my fingers are capable of doing.” I wrap my arms around her back, pulling her against my body and capturing her mouth with mine. “And my tongue.” With that, I use my tongue to tease a trail down her throat to her collarbone. She moans and squeezes her thighs, locking me in their tight grip. I press my erection into her, eliciting another moan. Fuck! I'm going to lose it if she doesn't quit making that sound.

I slide my fingers down the edge of her bikini bottoms to the inside of her thigh. “Do you want me to use my fingers?”

“Yes,” she breathes. I slip them inside her bottoms and graze her slick heat with my knuckles.

“Do you want me to use my tongue?” I continue to stroke her lightly.

“Yes,” she sighs again, her hips thrusting against me. She gasps when I slide two fingers inside her. I kiss my way down her chest and pull one of the triangles covering her breasts to the side with my teeth. She cries out when I pull the dark, pink bud into my mouth.

“Shhh, baby. You're gonna have to be quieter out here.” I don't want anybody else hearing her cries of pleasure, especially Luke. Voices tend to echo out here, and I'll be damned if I let the people in the other cabins hear her.

“Oh,” she responds with a blush, her eyes downcast. “Sorry.” She goes to move her top back into place, but I stop her. She misunderstood the meaning behind my warning.

“Hey.” I place my finger under her chin and tilt her face up to mine. “I don't want anyone else hearing those sexy sounds you make.I'mthe only one who gets to hear those, okay?” She nods her head in understanding. “Maybe we should take this inside.” She agrees and climbs off my lap and out of the hot tub.

I lead her into the house and she shivers as the air conditioning blasts cold air through the vents. “It's freezing in here.” She pulls her towel tighter as we hurry towards my bedroom.

“You can crawl under my blankets and try to get warmed up if you'd like.”

“Actually, I'd love a shower, if you don't mind. I always smell like hamburger grease and stale beer when I get off work.” She wrinkles up her nose in disgust and I can't help myself. I lean down and kiss it.

“I think you smell wonderful,” I assure her. “But if you want a shower, then be my guest.” I’m disappointed she isn’t all over me now like she was in the hot tub, but I tell myself she just wants to be squeaky clean for all the things I plan on doing to her. I sure as hell hope that’s the case, and it’s not because she’s having second thoughts.

“Thank you.”

I tell her where to find the towels and washcloths, and tell myself not to follow her in there. She didn't invite me to join her, so I need to just have a seat and wait for her to finish.

Then my imagination starts running wild, my fingers itching to help her out of that bikini.

I hear the cabinet door open and close.

I want to rub soap onto every inch of her bronzed skin.

I hear the spray of the water turn on.

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