Had I overplayed it? “Oh.” I pouted and dropped my hands to my sides. “I was hoping we could talk about college.”
“Maybe tomorrow. At breakfast.” He backed away, though I could feel his gaze. “Like I said, I’ve got lots of work, so I’ll see you then. At breakfast.”
“Okay.” I shrugged and walked around to the stairs, swaying my hips as I went. Dropping onto the top stair, I reached up, stretching my body taut, then dove into the pool and swam end to end. When I emerged again, his balcony doors were closed, and I couldn’t see him, but the prickling sensation along the nape of my neck told me he was still watching. I made a show of arranging my towel on a pool chair and lying down, letting the warm night breeze dry my skin.
Reaching up, I slowly pulled the string at my neck, untying it and peeling the strings down to the thin material of the triangles over my breasts. I stared at his window, and I wanted to pull the top all the way off, to show him what was his. But I didn’t. I let the strings lie on my stomach and I wriggled down onto the lounge chair, the fabric still covering my hard nipples.
Closing my eyes, I imagined him coming down to the pool. He’d stand above me, then pluck the bikini top away so he could see how hard my nipples were for him. His green eyes would survey me, take it all in, and then he’d drag his fingertips down my wet body until he found the slickness between my legs.
I threw my arms over my head and pressed my thighs together at the heat my imaginings stirred inside me. I should have known better. Fantasizing about Nate had become my favorite pastime at boarding school. I’d spend my alone time thinking about him, planning how our first time together would be, imagining his body on top of mine. The other girls at school were losing their virginity and racking up boyfriends while I had an imaginary, smoking-hot relationship with my guardian. Seeing no evidence of my interest in boys, they judged me to be a prude. But they were wrong. My issue was simple: I didn’t want a boy. I wanted a man. One man in particular.
My mind wandered further, to what Nate would do to me once we were both naked. I’d spread my legs for him, showing him something that I’d never offered to anyone else. What would he say? I longed to reach down and pleasure myself, but if one little twirl of my bikini top had spooked him, a full-on masturbation sesh below his balcony might be the wrong approach.
I sighed and wrapped my towel around me, then sat up. Walking around the pool, I gave one more glance to his window and decided I would continue my imaginings alone in my room.
Chapter Three
Nate
I sat back at my desk and listened as David gave a rundown of all our operations for the day. We expected another large shipment of weed later that night. This time, we’d send a contingent of men to guard it along with Peter. David would continue his search for the rat. There had to be one. It simply wasn’t possible for the Russians to know our moves with such detail unless someone was squealing to them.
“If you find him, bring him to me.”
Peter nodded, but David’s eyes glinted, his signature violence trying to claw its way free.
I pointed my finger at him. “David, you’ll get your chance at him, but I need to see him first. Got me?”
“I got it.” David cracked his knuckles. That alone would make grown men with bigger balls than me piss themselves. The Butcher was aching to put a hurting on someone. “As long as I get to finish him.”
“You will.” I rubbed my temples as the clock in the hall chimed nine.
“We’ll get to work.” Peter rose, and he and David left for the day. I’d join them on the marijuana shipment later. Nothing could go wrong with this one. If we lost it, we’d be out of the dealing game for a week. A lot could happen in a week. New dealers would poach on our turf, and we could end up fighting the Russians as well as the other syndicates openly, just like the old days. I couldn’t have that.
It was time for breakfast, but I hesitated at the door to the hall. Sabrina would be there, and after last night—the night I spent in a cold shower half the time—I needed to play this the right way. She could go to Temple, but she needed to find a place on campus or in the city near the school. Staying here would be too dangerous. I hadn’t let her come to the house for quite some time, mainly because of the threat from the Russians. Getting her out of here was the smartest play. And not just based on safety. I needed to erase her from my mind, keep her at a distance. The thoughts I’d had about her before I knew who she was—I shook my head. And then the rest of the thoughts I’d had about her even though I knew good and damn well who she was. My cock tried to kick awake in my pants, and I balled my hands into fists.