My brain struggled to weave together a strand of logic for why such a simple touch was making it feel like the entire solar system had taken root in my chest. Every nerve, cell, molecule I was made of was tingling. It felt like I was trying to inhale combustible air instead of good ol’ plain oxygen.
Then he said, “I don’t want to hand you over to your father tomorrow. I’m going to. But I don’t want to.”
And I was honest to fuck shocked one or all of my organs didn’t implode.
Instead, a dopey grin split halfway up my face. “Does that mean you wanna keep me all to yourself?”
The caress of his thumb paused, and fire-hot eyes slid my way.
“It means I want to keep you away from him.”
My goofy smile slipped and sank below the bubbles. Fierce protection rippled beneath James’ skin, creating a current between us more powerful than the hot tub jets. It lapped against my skin, infusing itself into my pores, my blood, my soul.
So that’s what he was thinking that had put such a sour tint to his honeyed eyes the last few minutes.
My heart—I think, at least—swelled with the realization. It’d never done that before—swelled. It kind of hurt. Actually, it really hurt.
It was too full, stretching like elastic at the seams when I don’t think it was meant to do that.
My heart wasn’t one meant to expand after all I’d put it through. It was meant to shrivel. To die.
But James flooded it anyway, ignoring the rules of my body and making his own.
And it was because my heart was too full, my chest too overwhelmed with feeling that the two next words had no choice but to come pouring out.
“Kiss me.”
Immediately, defenses shot up in his stare. They covered up every speck of that radiating protection he had for me and cast it inward. I immediately missed it.
“Don’t ask me to do that,” he ground out.
“Why not?” I scrutinized the tick in his jaw as he denied us both. “You want to. You’ve wanted to since we were in the woods.”
He rolled the fact between his angry lips, veins in his thick neck pushing to the surface as tension sewed into his body. His tongue ran behind his upper lip as he passed it along his teeth, pinning me with a dangerous glare.
“Change the subject, Scarlett. Now.”
“No.” Though defiant, my cadence was softly pointed. Determined. “I’m not going to change the subject just because you’re scared of it. I want to know why you won’t kiss me.”
“Because of so many fucking reasons, I shouldn’t have to list them.”
“If it’s because I’m younger than you or because you work for my dad, those are two very shitty reasons.”
“Twelve years younger.” His correction came with a bladed glare and proof that he cared enough to do the math. “We’re done talking about this.”
“I’m not.”
Pushing to stand, I set the bottle down and cut through the water over to him.
“What’re you—Scarlett.”
Before he could stop me, I slipped both knees on either side of him and straddled his hips.
Water sloshed between and around us as I pressed into him, sealing our wet chests together and making him feel how good our stripped bodies felt against each other’s.
“Jesus Christ.”
James’ head knocked back, massive hands finding and squeezing punishment into my waist. I gasped and he fucking loved it, well-worked hands consuming me. My entire middle was wrapped in his exacting warmth, his fingers making a full connection around my waist.