“I didn’t hear you come back,” I say.
“Sorry,” he says. His chest is rising and falling quicker, and I’d have to be a fool not to understand why. I’m in this pool in his shirt. My breasts aren’t huge, but I could hold my own in a wet-T-shirt contest, and the man obviously likes what he sees. I like what I see, too.
“Did you find Benny’s okay?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I glance at his empty hands. “You got the food?”
“Yes.”
“I should get out now,” I say, more of a statement than a question.
“Yes.”
I can’t help but laugh as I take the three steps until I’m standing on the pool walkway, soaking wet and dripping on the tiles. Any other time, any other man, I’d cover myself, feel embarrassed about my near naked state, but the fact that I’m not, the fact that I’m actually standing here, letting him look is fill, is completely uncharacteristic of me. I mean, I hardly know the guy. What is it about him that makes me want to leap out of my comfort zone?
“Can you say more than one word?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I laugh, hardly able to believe I’ve reduced this smoking hot guy—who could have any girl in the world and probably has had many—to one syllable sentences. I like it. A lot.
“Can you toss me the towel?”
He reaches for the towel and brings it to me. I wrap it around myself. “I really hope you don’t mind me jumping in. Captain Jack and I were playing and it looked so refreshing.”
“Don’t mind at all.”
I put my hand on his chest, and his warmth curls through my blood. Am I purposely flirting with him, teasing him? Yeah, I think I am. “Ah th
ere you go, you can talk in full sentences.” I look past his shoulders. “Now where is all that yummy food?”
“Inside,” he says and follows me in. Captain Jack traipses in behind us, and starts sniffing and drooling at the delicious aromas filling the kitchen. He’s not the only one. I breathe in all the delicious smells, and glance over at the bags. “How much did you buy?”
“Like one of everything.”
“A big ego and a big appetite,” I tease.
“I have a big everything.”
He’s grinning at me, and before I can stop myself, my gaze drifts down to take in the bulge behind his zipper. Dear God, what am I doing? He clears his throat.
“I think you need to get changed, Alyssa. Put on something dry.”
His eyes are blazing hot and lock on mine. “Yeah, why?”
“I’m going to be honest with you here. You’re giving me a hard on.”
I chuckle, but do love that he’s being straight forward, and there is so much tension between us, sparking off the kitchen appliances, denying it would be pointless.
“You change, and I’ll dish up the food.”
I walk from the room and dash upstairs to pull on a dry T-shirt, and tug the sweats back on. I make a quick trip to the laundry room and toss our clothes into the dryer. In the kitchen, Alek is nursing a beer, and the sight of him swallowing a mouthful gives me pause. My nipples tighten, as I imagine those lips wrapped around them, pulling on my peaked buds the way he’s pulling on that beer. He sets it down when he sees me.
“Drink?” he asks.
“I’m a lightweight and I don’t want to be tipsy when I visit Grandma.”