Bree knew if she told him to leave, he’d do just that. In all likelihood, whatever chance it was that lay before her would be gone. Colby wouldn’t do this again. If she pushed him away, she knew she’d never have this chance again.
Not that pushing him away was even a possibility. For her, it never had been. The minute he made it clear that he wanted her, she’d been his. All the words, all her worries and doubts and fears, none of it made any difference. Words. She closed her eyes, wished she could find the words to tell him what was inside her, but they weren’t there.
Words. They were his thing. Not hers.
But she didn’t need words.
Slowly, she stepped back. His hand fell away and as she watched, his gaze became shuttered, locking her completely out. But, as she reached for the placket of buttons running down the front of her dress, he hissed out a breath. She didn’t look at him.
Bree was pretty sure that if she looked at him, she’d freeze. She’d panic. Worse—she’d throw herself at him and ask if he loved her, even a little. She might not even care if he lied. At least not right away.
So instead of looking at him, she kept her lashes low as she worked the dress off. It was a halter style, a complicated thing that buttoned up almost like a man’s dress shirt, with a collar and a vee neckline, but it left her shoulders and back bare. It fit close, which meant that even after she unbuttoned it all the way down, she had to shimmy her way out of it. Letting it fall to her feet in a puddle, she stepped out of it.
An attack of nerves seized her, though, and she couldn’t finish stripping out of her clothes while standing in front of him. She felt the burn of his gaze following her as she started toward the pool. She undid her strapless bra and dropped it by the pool’s edge. The lights in the pool were kept on a timer and in the darkness of the night, the water gleamed a vibrant, jewel-like shade of turquoise. It reflected light off her body as she hooked her thumbs in her panties and pushed them down.
She heard him coming up behind her as she dove into the water and swam along the bottom of the pool until she reached the far edge. She surfaced, rested a hand on the edge and turned her head toward him. He still stood at the other side of the pool. Shoving off the wall, she stroked toward him in a lazy crawl. Her heart leapt as he stripped away his shirt, letting it fall to the stone walkway bordering the pool. After he kicked his shoes off, he crouched down beside the pool and hooked a hand over the back of her neck, drawing her up.
She braced her hands on the lip of the pool and shoved upward, meeting his mouth as he dipped his head and snaking one arm around his shoulders. He traced the edge of her lips with his tongue before pushing inside. She shuddered. Already the need was threatening to spiral out of control. Bree wasn’t quite so ready to give into it. Bracing one foot against the pool wall, she shoved.
He tumbled into the water with her, but if she thought that would buy her some breathing room, she’d thought wrong. He kept his arms wrapped around her and took her to the bottom, keeping their mouths fused until the need to breathe drove them to the surface. He swam upward, keeping her body pressed to his. Catching hold of the ladder, he kept them afloat, pressed his brow to hers. “That was mean. You do realize I still have my pants on, don’t you?”
She smiled against his lips and slid one hand down his chest. “Oops.” It took some fumbling and some patience to strip him out of the wet black trousers. He caught them before they could sink to the bottom and tossed the sodden material onto the walkway.
Sliding her palms into the waistband of the boxer briefs he wore, she brushed the tips of her fingers over the head of his cock. His rigid flesh jerked under her touch and a harsh breath hissed out from between his teeth. “Damn it, Bree.”
She grinned as she closed her hand around his cock and stroked. One slow stroke down, one slow stroke up. The cool kiss of water couldn’t hide the fiery heat of his penis. The skin stretched over his cock was silken smooth, and underneath, rigid, so damn hard. She realized she was clenching her knees together as her sex throbbed.
She milked him with her hand, staring at his face, lost in the rapture she glimpsed on his features. His head was tilted back, eyes narrowed down to slits, teeth clenched in a hungry grimace. He started to move, rocking forward to meet her hand—quicker, harder.
Then abruptly, he stopped, pulled her hand away and caught her wrist when she would have reached for him again. He kissed her—deep, hard—thrusting his tongue past her lips, devouring her, as though he’d swallow her whole.
He tore his mouth away from hers to blaze a hot, stinging line of kisses up to her ear. “Gimme a break, Bree. Slow it down or this is going to be over before we get to the fun stuff.”