Page 19 of Too Good to be True

Breaking away from the kiss, Tim scoops me up in his arms and carries me into the hot tub. The water bubbles around us as he takes a seat on the bench, holding me sideways on his lap.

“What if we get caught? We’ll get in trouble.”

He chuckles, the warm sound rumbling in his chest. “We’re not going to get sent to the principal’s office if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ll be told to leave and not come back when there isn’t a lifeguard on duty.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” I feel immature and foolish. “We won’t get arrested for trespassing?”

“You’re a guest at the hotel, aren’t you?” I nod. “Haven’t you ever broken the rules?” He asks, still looking amused.

I shrug. “Of course.”

“And? Did you like how it felt?”

“Once upon a time I did. Like when I was in middle school, and I explored empty houses in my neighborhood as they were being built with some of my friends. We’d pretend they were our clubhouses and hang out in them.”

“Did you ever get caught?”

I shake my head.

“Good. Then think of this as an upscale clubhouse that no one but us is invited to.”

My belly tightens. He makes the proposition of doing something wrong so alluring. “Do you break the rules often?”

He shakes his head. “Not nearly often enough.”

I can’t tell if that answer should worry me.

His lips brush along my shoulder. Afraid I’ll start to overthink what I’m doing and panic if we stop talking, I ask, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Gray.” He answers. “More specifically, the gray of your eyes. Looking into them this close, they’re gray, but with specs of blue and green in them. Like miniscule fragments of sea glass.”

I release a breath. He makes me sound beautiful. His lips travel up and down the side of my neck, causing an internal inferno to ignite.

“Your turn.” He whispers, kissing the area behind my ear. “Favorite comfort food?”

“Watermelon,” I moan, not even caring that his hands slide under the hem of my top and splay on my belly. “Cold, sweet watermelon,” I answer breathlessly as he inches my suit top up.

When I realize what he’s doing, I’m seized by fear, frozen in place. In a matter of seconds, my top is off, and he's giving my soft middle a long look.

I’m so uncomfortable, I can’t take it any longer. “Please stop.”

Everything stops; his lips, his hands, even his breathing seems to have halted with my words. I see the confusion on his face. He thinks I don't want this. That I'm rejecting him.

"I mean my body.” My eyes drop. “Please don’t stare."

“Why not?” He narrows his eyes at me.

I can’t look in his eyes any longer. “I’m fat.”

“You’re gorgeous and sexy. I want to see every inch of your beautiful body.”

I try to evaluate his motive. Is he going to mock me? Make fun of me the way Corey would? I don't get that sense. Before I can think of anything else to say, he turns me on his lap so that I’m straddling him, dips his head, and sucks a nipple into his mouth.

He fills his other hand with my other breast, squeezing gently and pinching my nipple.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

The sensation his mouth elicits from my breasts makes me think he has electrodes on his tongue.

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