Page 52 of Irresistibly Risky

My head snaps up. “Yes?”

A raised eyebrow. “What do you think?”

What do I think? I think I have no idea what you asked me. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

“You agree I should take off my top, so I don’t get tan lines from all the sun filtering in through the open glass?”

I hesitate. Am I dreaming, or is this a trap? “Ummm… Yes?”

“Will you help me untie the strings then? With your good hand, of course.”

My gaze bounces back down to her tits, which are so pretty and perky, overflowing the confines of the meager black fabric containing them. “I’m dreaming, right?”

“No.” She snaps her fingers in front of my face. “You weren’t listening, so I’m putting things on your level until you figure out how to focus on something other than my tits.”

I legit might be in love. I know I was posturing or being flippant about it when I first spoke to my guys, but now I’m hopelessly lost in her. She can’t stand me, but that’s only another turn-on.

“Impossible. Your beauty is spellbinding.”

She rolls her eyes as she twirls Mason’s floaty in a circle. His arms fly up, and he lets out a squeal every time she does it. The kid is so damn easy to please. Like me. He didn’t even whine or fuss when she lathered him with enough sunscreen to not just protect him from the sun but to refract it.

“Fine. Fake apologies. What can I do for you, my ice queen?”

“Move your arm in twelve circles, six forward, six backward.”

She’s trying to rehab me, which is adorable. Her boss point-blank told her she had to spend the rest of the week looking after me and that she wasn’t allowed in the hospital. You can imagine how well she liked that. Especially when Coach jumped on the bandwagon and made it clear I’m her number one priority.

She hates it.

She hates being sidelined to care for me, especially when I don’t exactly require a lot of care. She does, however, love being home with our big guy, so there were no complaints about spending an afternoon in a rooftop pool when I suggested it.

“Yes, Doctor. I’m on it.”

I do the movements she forces me to do about ten times a day, and I feel the tightness—and a decent amount of discomfort—but push through it. I’m a football player. Sore muscles and tight joints and pain come with the gig. She told me immobility would be my worst enemy, and I believe her, so I do what she tells me.

“Good boy. Should I give you a treat?”

I give her a crooked smile, scissoring my legs back and forth in the cool water as I sit on the edge of the pool. “You think degrading me like I’m a dog will throw me off your scent, but sweetheart, the only treat I want from you right now is to kiss your pretty lips. Either set.”

She splashes water in my direction that falls way short of getting me wet, but I’ve had a margarita today—for medicinal purposes only—and I think we’ve already established I’m a lightweight, so for me, that was game on. I hop off the ledge and trudge through the waist-deep water in her direction. She shrieks, her hands flying outward as if that will stop me.

“No! You can’t get your shoulder wet. Out of the pool, player.”

Just before I reach her, I dip down, careful not to get my shoulder wet, and swoosh in, faking her out, left, right, left, and land a kiss on the side of her neck. “I bet you wish I had gone for your lips.”

“Jerk!” She pinches the nipple on my good side as hard as she can, as if that simple act of impulsivity is a deterrent against my main motivation—her. She doesn’t know that shit turns me on, but she’s about to. Only I can’t swoop her up over my shoulder fireman style, and I can’t drag her up into my chest like a bride. I’m a man with limitations for the first time in his life.

It sucks.

My good arm bands around her body, and I toss Mason a wink as I haul his mother against my chest. “If I loosen just one knot, the whole thing comes undone.”

“You try it and I’ll pinch your earlobe, and trust me when I tell you, you won’t like that nearly as much as the nipple tweak.”

“You like me.” I lick her neck again, just to prove the point that she’s mine. “Admit it. It’s okay. Everyone does.”

“Gross! Stop it with that! I don’t like you,” she protests. “You’re aggravating and arrogant and rarely serious.”

“That’s…” I pause, thinking that through. “Fair. I am all those things. But you’re stuck with me, so you might as well learn to love me.”

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