Page 13 of A Little Bit Wild

She grabs her bag out of the trunk of my car, and I lead her over to the changing stalls. I know she still has her swimsuit on under her wetsuit, and I try not to picture her wiggling her way out of the tight latex as I strip off my suit.

I pull on my jeans and a t-shirt and head out to wait for Aria. When she still isn’t out five minutes later, I approach the door.

“Are you okay? Need me to give you a hand with anything?” I call, praying that she doesn’t hear the lust in my voice on that last question.

I clear my throat as she lets out a long breath.

“It took me twenty minutes to get into this thing. It’s going to take me an hour to get it off,” she grunts, and I smile. “Just go on without me. I live here now.”

“So dramatic,” I tease, and she growls.

“I bet yours just peeled off like it wasn’t even the tightest thing that you’ve ever worn in your life,” she accuses, and I try to bite back my grin.

“Something like that. Come on; I’ll help you out.”

The door unlocks, and she swings it open, glaring at me slightly. Her face is flushed, and her red hair has come out of the bun slightly.

“How, man? How did you get it off so quickly?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice in these. Here, turn around.”

I rest my hands on her shoulders, turning her around. She meets my eyes in the mirror, reaching to move her hair to the side as I reach for the zipper.

Unzipping her wetsuit feels so intimate, and I clear my throat, trying to think of something to clear the tension and distract me, but my mind comes up blank.

I pull the latex to the side, swallowing a groan when I see the strings of her bikini.

Just work fast. Drive her back to the office and say goodbye. Then you can go home and jerk off to this.

I peel her arm out of the wetsuit and then move on to her other one.

“I think I’ve got it from here,” she says quietly once the wetsuit is bunched up around her waist.

“Are you sure?” I ask, and Jesus, is that my voice?

It’s suddenly turned deep, husky, and filled with so many wicked promises.

“Yeah, thanks,” she says.

I take a step back, and she turns to face me. She’s looking up at me, her ripe lips right there, and I can swear she wants me to kiss her. It’s written all over her pretty face.

What is the protocol for dating a client? How pissed are Rhett and Anson going to be?

I weigh the pros and cons in the blink of an eye before I realize that I would risk anything to have Aria.

I take another step back toward her, and she licks her lips, that pink tongue swiping along the plump bottom lip as she tempts me more.

“Aria,” I whisper, my hands coming up to cup her face.

“Everything alright in there?” Comes a voice as they knock on the door.

Aria and I both jump, leaping apart as much as we can in the small confines of the changing stall.

“We’re fine!” I call back, and I look back to Aria.

She’s watching me, and I swallow.

“I’ll let you get changed,” I say, and she nods.

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