Page 51 of One Secret

There's no sound reason for waiting. I'm not particularly prudish about sexual activity being reserved for twilight hours. Nor is it unsafe to me or the baby to be having sex.

The simple truth is that driving a man to distraction is a powerful kick. In the face of Cyrus's crestfallen expression and straining arousal, I should feel guilty for any course of action that doesn't have me on the bed, legs splayed, and ass ready to be taken. Hot, heavy, and without mercy.

But the power trip of making Cyrus wait—of tempting and teasing him past the point of all sanity—has taken hold of me and all I can do is grin, my lower lip pinned mischievously behind my teeth.

'I was thinking of going jet skiing,' I confess.

'Right now?!' Cyrus's eyes bug.

My smile broadens as I set my swimsuit to rights and I bounce a little with excitement. Cyrus hisses behind gritted teeth at the friction.

'I bumped into that Lana down at the pool,' I explain, quickly. 'And she mentioned all the water sports they have out by the docks.'

And I, being the adrenaline junkie that I am, had latched onto the idea and refused to let go.

How often am I going to have a chance at something like this, again?

Cyrus watches me for a full minute, tracing a heated gaze all over my body. His fingertips press into my skin, reticent to let go.

Eventually, he lets out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

'You hate the idea?' I surmise, deflated.

'No...' he sighs again, freeing one hand from my butt to rub at the furrows on his brow. Even through my shorts, I feel the loss of his warmth. 'Actually, given the surveillance opportunities from the water, doing something couple-y like that would be a good cover.'

His words are positive but his tone is still reluctant.

Latching onto his devoted work ethic, I try grinning like a loon and clapping my hands together in a pleading gesture.

'All right,' he finally snorts. 'We'll go skiing.'

'Yes!' I throw both fists in the air with the elation of a marathoner finishing with a personal best. 'Victory!'

'Yeah yeah...' Cyrus grumbles. But I can see the hint of a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. 'Just give me a minute to shower and then we'll go.'

As he goes to get up, I hop back from his lap. Puzzled, I remember the damp towel in the bathroom.

'Didn't you shower this morning?' I ask.

Cyrus snorts again and hitches at his jeans. The hard shape of him still pushes from behind his fly.

'Yeah,' he says. 'But the one this morning was warm.'

7

'You should do that more often.'

I look up from securing the jet skis. Darcy is watching me with an expression I've not seen on her face before. It's soft. Open. And seductively genuine.

For a moment, I almost drop the ropes. A tremor wriggles its way through my chest but it's not an unpleasant sensation. In fact, I have no idea if the quiver is from trepidation or... something warmer.

Trying to distract myself, I focus on Darcy's smile. On the shallow dimple that pops only in her left cheek.

'Do what?' I ask. 'Nearly fall ass over dick on seaweed?'

Getting off the jet skis without accidentally kicking them into the great watery beyond had been challenging enough. Finding a spot to latch them to on the little island we'd found, without tumbling headlong over the rock face myself, had been near fucking impossible. Twice, the algae beneath my feet had played its tricks. And a chaotic scramble and windmilling of my arms had been the only solution for staying upright.

Darcy is really grinning now, vibrant laughter in her eyes.

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