Page 17 of Broken Daddy

Maybe that’s it; why my head is so fuzzy. Maybe knowingexactlywhat Nate can do with that body, and that tongue, has me thinking anything but straight.

Just when I’m sure he’s going to turn his back on me and scoff, Nate’s eyes narrow. He lifts the apron over his head, untying it and tossing it onto a workbench. I’m left with the view of a sleeveless shirt so tattered it’s practically falling off his bulky shoulders, tantalizing skin showing here and there.

Nate stalks toward the pool. I dip down quickly, suddenly self-conscious with his gaze on me. Which is ridiculous. Just a few nights ago, he was eye level with my pussy, and now I’m worried about him seeing me mostly unclothed?

He makes it to the edge of the pool and sits unceremoniously on a lounge chair, working at his boots, eyes still dragging down my body. I’mveryaware of the trickle of water running from my shoulders down my cleavage, soaking the fabric that’s barely covering me.

“Cold?” he asks, arching a brow.

I bite my lip and fight the urge to cover up, because he’s referring to my nipples—peaked under the pink cloth.

“No.”

It comes out as a challenge, a taunt, an insinuation. What I want to say is,Your eyes on my body make me this way. I’m hot. I’m wet. I can’t stop thinking about you between my legs.

Instead, I lose the ability to speak as Nate stands, kicks off his boots, yanks the poor excuse of a shirt over his head, and starts to slowly undo his belt.

The clank of metal sends a frisson of wet heat to my core and I press my thighs together, wanting so badly to touch myself.

I’m pretty sure I could get off justlookingat this man. He’s covered in sawdust and sweat, his skin damp and dark from being in the sun.

He shucks off his jeans. Just dark gray boxer briefs doing nothing to hide that bulge. My pussy throbs at the sight, and I lick my lips, goose bumps running up my arms and thighs.

“Still up for sharing the pool?” Nate asks, taking slow steps toward me. I nod, unable to speak, and he steps down into the water.

His chest, darkened from the sun, is covered by much lighter hair. It shows his age, salt and pepper in some places, the trail leading into his boxers darker and thicker.

The cotton hem of his boxers darkens as water laps up his strong thighs. I push back into the pool, overwhelmed with how badly I want to be pressed up against him.

“It’s all yours.” A breathless tease. The straps of the bikini bite into my breasts as I breathe heavily, anticipation coiling low in my belly.

Nate hums in agreement, striding toward me against the water. He backs me up against the far wall, the gritty surface biting into my skin deliciously—just like the brick behind the restaurant. The memory flashes through my mind and I want him inside me so bad I ache.

Boxing me in with an arm on either side of my waist, Nate leans in close and murmurs, “You’re tempting. I should be working right now. Not splashing around in a pool with you.”

As the last word drops from his mouth, his lips brush my shoulder. A shiver runs down my spine and my breasts arch toward him without my permission.

“Weekends are for resting, not working,” I half gasp, mentally begging for him to touch me.

Nate chuckles, the sound dark and low despite the sunlight turning his hair golden. He brushes his lips up my neck, tongue flicking out to touch my earlobe before he says, “The last thing on my mind right now isresting.”

A whimper slips out as I grip his forearm to hold myself steady. Nate positions himself in front of me, legs braced. He reaches out and plucks at the string holding the thin fabric against my tits.

“Don’t you think your brother would be outraged to see you like this? All wet and wanting me.”

A rebellious streak briefly surfaces as our eyes meet. His finger drags down into the little triangle of fabric, catching on my pebbled nipple.

“Who says I want you?”

Without breaking eye contact, Nate pulls his hand back and then slips it below the water, between my legs. Deftly, as if he’s a master of the art, he pulls aside the fabric and slips two fingers into my slick folds.

“This,” he murmurs, leaning in so close I can feel the heat of his chest, practically taste the salty sweat on his skin. “Thisis what gives you away, Gen. You’re wet for me, aren’t you?”

My brain turns to mush as he touches me, plying my pussy gently, teasing, never breaching. His thumb brushes my clit and I whimper again, nodding vigorously.

“Yes.”

Another deep, dark chuckle, and before I realize what’s happening, Nate spins me around and presses me against the wall of the pool. It ends just above my belly button, the perfect angle for him to hold me steady with one hand as he rips my bikini bottom down my legs with the other. I gasp, not expecting the move or how much it turns me on.

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