Exes and O's (The Influencer, #2)

“I’m really going to miss that Flynn Rider vest.” I faux-pout as he extends his hand, tugging me closer.

He smirks. “I mean, I’m not super into role-playing, but I’m willing to make an exception.”

I mock shock. “Oh really?”

“Anything for my girlfriend.” His eyes widen, as if he’s caught himself in an embarrassing mistake. “Unless you don’t want an official label, though I assume you do—”

“Oh, I want the label,” I assure him. “But on two conditions.” I hold him at arm’s length, my palm flat against his chest, glistening with water. After everything, I decide to set some ground rules.

He indulges me, nodding respectfully. “All right. Hit me with them.”

I hold up my index finger. “One, you won’t wimp out when I’m being extra. If I do or say anything that freaks you out, you’ll be mature. You’ll talk to me like an adult before running scared and avoiding conversation.”

He sets both hands on my waist, his mouth slanted in a smile. “Just so you know, I love you most when you’re being extra. It’s a massive turn-on.” He pauses, absorbing my serious expression. “And you can say whatever is on your mind, at all times, without worrying about whether you’re too much. Because you’re not too much. Ever. Okay? And I swear I’ll talk to you first about anything that’s bothering me. Anything we can’t resolve, we’ll go to therapy. We’ll work it out in a healthy way.”

“Deal.”

“What’s the second one?” he asks, pulling me closer. He’s mere inches from me, and I’m losing my resolve. He knows it too, based on his knowing brow raise.

I fight to maintain my stern look by staring at the condensation flecking his lashes. “As my official boyfriend, you’d have to promise to hold my hand every ten minutes.” My straight face doesn’t last long before both our chests are heaving in silent amusement. “And you have to make a regular habit of kissing me in public. I want all the PDA.”

“I think I can manage that.” His deep laugh echoes into the void of the night around us. He studies my face for a moment, tracing my cheek with the back of his knuckle.

“You better,” I warn.

He smiles, pressing his free hand to my chest, over my wildly hammering heart, audible to me even over the rumble of the jets. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

I panic for a split second, willing it into a steady drum—the heartbeat of a calm, sane person. And as usual, my emotion trumps my logic.

It’s like the floodgates of happiness I’ve chased my entire life have unleashed and I’m ready and willing to drown in it.

He tugs me closer to him, pressing another trail of kisses around the edge of my lips as he hoists me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He backs us up through the water, lowering himself onto the seat. I’m clinging to him like a spider monkey, straddling his lap, one hand in his hair, the other around his neck, pressing and pulling.

He drags his teeth over my skin. His tongue does something magical to the smooth skin below my ear, all while he’s running the tips of his fingers down my back at an agonizingly slow pace, stopping at the waist of my bikini bottoms. His right thumb slips under the band, inching along the seam toward the front, exploring the sensitive area where my upper thigh meets my hip.

When I arch myself against him, he lets out a string of garbled curse words, desire radiating in his eyes.

“What if someone catches us?” I whisper. “Like Gerald.”

“Please don’t remind me of Gerald when I’m hard.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a second before lifting his chin toward the door. “And I put the broom in the door. It’s locked.”

The words have barely escaped his lips before he’s unhooked my top, shamelessly tossing it over the side of the hot tub.

He bends down slightly, his tongue sliding against the undersides of my breasts. Both of them receive their fair share of attention and lavish compliments before his fingers travel back to my bikini bottoms.

He isn’t gentle when he tugs, signaling he wants them off. And quick. We stand frantically to remove our bathing suit bottoms, only feeling whole again when I settle back over him, skin to skin. He sucks on my bottom lip as he circles me with his thumb, testing. When his swipe nearly ends me, he slows the pace.

The jet underneath us hits me with the perfect amount of pressure, pulsing exactly where I want it.

“Did you know every second we were in this hot tub together before was torture?” he whispers against my neck. “All I wanted to do was—”

“What did you want to do to me in here?”

His eyes darken as he smooths his thumb where I want it, keeping his touch light as he shifts my leg over. “This. I’d spread your legs apart.”

At my shudder, he groans, sliding another finger in. “You’d be dripping all over my hand, just like this. And I’d fuck you harder and deeper until you were begging for me.”

I shudder at his words in my ear, doubling the pleasure of his hand. “Oh God. That feels so good.”

“Fuck, I’m never going to let you go.” His voice is strained in my ear as his pace picks up.

I angle a brow at him. “Now who’s the possessive one? I never would have guessed.”

“Only when it comes to you.” He looks pleased with himself as I buck against his hand, relishing the control he has over me.

“Well, good luck ever trying to leave me now that I’ve sunk my claws in,” I manage.

“True. I’d be a fool to ever leave you. Who knows what kind of messed-up shit you’d do to my car.”

I pretend to smack him in the shoulder.

“Seriously, though. I love that you’re mine,” he tells me, eliciting a single tear from beneath my lid. He presses a soft kiss over it, absorbing it. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he whispers.

Seconds away from losing all control, I nod, unable to stop my grin as the emotion rolls over me. “I’m just . . . happy.”

“Even if you’re not getting your second-chance romance?”

“Trevor, you are a million times better than any trope I could ever dream up.”

He meets my smile, and I swear his entire face lights up brighter than Times Square. He presses his lips to mine, sealing my declaration. And when he tells me to come for him, his voice pushes me over the edge, free-falling into oblivion without fear or hesitation.

He holds one hand over my mouth as I cry out, inner walls pulsing. I unravel in his lap, blinded by a white sheet of stars.

“Still good?” he asks, kissing my temple.

I respond with a gentle scrape up his back and shoulders.

“Good. I need you so badly right now.” He taps me on the bottom, gently lifting me off his lap. He leans over the side of the tub, fishing in the pockets of his sweatpants hanging over the railing. He locates his wallet, pulling out a condom. I watch as he unpackages it and slips it over himself.

All is right again when he lifts me back onto his lap and eases me onto him, stretching me completely, inch by inch. His gaze fills with the unspoken tenderness and affection I’ve wanted for so long. Now there’s no barrier. No wall. Nothing stopping me from venturing forward. He’s letting me in. Completely.

I move against him, taking more and more of him. My body tingles as I anchor myself to him with abandon, the part of him I’ve only seen glimpses of over the past four months. The part of him he’s never wanted me to see. I’m struck by the realization that he’s giving himself to me. His whole self.

His head drops back as I take all of him. A visible shudder rolls through his shoulders, his low groan vibrating across my throat. His breath hitches, and he holds me still for a few beats, eye contact unbreaking.

“Are you okay?”

“If you move an inch, this is going to be embarrassing for everyone involved. Mainly me.”

I shift slightly, and he makes a pained face. “You look like you’re about to perish.”

“I might. But I’ll die the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Our foreheads touch as we laugh, managing to stay as still as possible. After a few long breaths, he loosens his grip around my lower hips. I ride him slowly at first, speeding up in pace with his enthusiasm, meeting his lips with frantic kisses. He switches his attention between my breasts and my mouth, unsure which way to go as he grips my ass, pressing hard into my flesh under the water.

With one swift movement, he lifts me and turns me outward, toward the city. “Do you want to go inside?” he whispers from behind.

“No. Why would I?”

“Thought you didn’t like water sex.”

I peek at him over my shoulder. “I’ve never actually tried it.” When the admission rolls off my tongue, his eyes blaze.

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