Her gaze lingers on my body.
I’m nostalgic and buzzed, and the way she’s looking at me helps both.
The cool water licks my feet and ankles as I stop in front of her. “Admit you want me,” I challenge. “I won’t tell a soul.”
She pries the alcohol from my grip. “I told you—the only way you’ll ever get me naked is to sue the clothes off me.”
My hands close over hers on the bottle. She doesn’t let go.
I back into the surf, and her grip means she’s forced to follow. “That could still be arranged.”
Rae’s lips curve in the dark as the water rises up her body.
It soaks her trousers. Her stomach. I don’t stop until water reaches my abs and her chest, and I feel the tug of the undercurrent.
The exhilaration on her face is interrupted by shock when she notices the marks on my chest.
“What is this?” She nods to my pec, the mass of white lines there.
“Prison tattoo.”
She looks up in alarm, realizing I’m joking when she sees my expression.
“It’s a scar from boarding school,” I amend.
Her brows tug together. “You let another person do this to you?”
“’Let’ is a strong word. Boys can be cruel.”
“Anyone can be cruel.”
The water is up to her ribs, high enough it licks at her breasts when a wave rolls through, leaves her top stained and her nipples hard against the fabric when it recedes.
I want to trace the path with a finger.
Maybe my tongue.
“I didn’t mean it.”
Her words have me jerking my gaze up to meet hers.
“About your ex-fiancée and that you deserved for her to leave you.”
I pull the bottle toward me and take a drink. “I thought I was in love. She was a spoiled princess. We wanted different things.”
She takes the bottle back but not to drink it. It bobs in the water at her side, her grip on its neck assuring it doesn’t drift away.
I reach a hand out experimentally to touch one of the spikes in her hair.
It’s sharp.
“Your brother said you dated her because you thought she was what you deserved.”
Her voice is low, but the words land in my chest as my hand falls away.
She’s young.
Too fucking young to ask questions like that.