Page 81 of Snowbound
I wasn't even sure if she was just a shitty swimmer or if she was hoping I'd catch her. But when I did—when I got my hands on her—I did exactly what I promised.
I flattened my hand on top of her head and shoved her under, though I let her up just as quickly. Was only meant to be a tease, not meant to scare her.
She screamed just before her mouth went below the surface. Bubbles burst up around her, breaking on the surface in loud pops.
“Oh, you asshole!”
She splashed water into my face, grabbed at me, and pushed me under in retaliation.
“Hey!” I shouted, laughing through the water.
I could barely touch bottom there, but she couldn’t. She was in well over her head. I splashed her again, grabbed her around the waist, pulled her close—and dunked her again.
And fuck, I wanted to kiss her.
God, I wanted to kiss her so fucking bad.
I could practically taste it—the sharp mineral of the creek water, the warmth of her mouth underneath it, the way her wet lips would part for me.
I imagined how she’d feel in my arms. How she’d moan into my mouth. Maybe even startle a little.
I'd fantasized about this too much. Way too fucking much.
Too many late nights thinking about her, one hand braced on the tile wall of my shower, the other wrapped around my cock. Imagining her breath, her gasp, her name on my lips.
I couldn’t help it.
I wanted her. I wanted her so damn bad.
“Okay, okay,” I said, breathless. “No more pushing each other under.”
I was treading water at the surface.
“You started it,” she accused, splashing me again.
“Aye, I did,” I admitted, and laughed, but it came out thin. Too sharp.
“That’s enough now, lass. Christ, would ya hold still? You’ve got something on your head.”
She shrieked. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. Seaweed or something.”
“There’s no seaweed in the creek, Owen!” she cried, laughing.
“Well… then it’s something else. A leaf, maybe.”
“Alright, fine, whatever. Science isn’t my favorite subject, okay? I think it must be a leaf.”
I reached for her again, grinning, when I heard it—my dad’s voice—low, sharp, and furious.
“What thehellare you two doing down there?”
My stomach dropped.
My dad was a force to be reckoned with. That voice could snap bone.
He’d warned me about Emma. He didn’t like what he saw building between us. Didn’t like the looks, the tension, the way we gravitated toward each other.
