I unbutton my shirt and toss it onto a chair. As I walk to the window to take in the view, I tug my zipper down and kick off my pants. The bed calls to me, but a swim on the rooftop pool might be a great way to stretch my tight muscles. The shower shuts off and a few minutes later, footsteps on the floor reach my ears.
Dressed in my boxers that can easily double as a bathing trunk, I quietly leave the room and pad softly to the rooftop. I walk to the deep end of the pool and dive in; the water is cold and refreshing against my hot skin, but does little to snuff the heat deep inside me. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to be around my best friend’s kid sister and keep my hands to myself. Shit, I never should have kissed her. It won’t happen again. Cason’s trust is too important to me. I spend the next fifteen minutes gliding through the pool, working to exhaust my mind so I’ll be able to shut down and get some sleep.
I resurface in the shallow end, wipe my hand over my face and jerk back when I spot a figure standing at the pool’s edge. “Shit,” I say, my gaze lifting higher to see that it’s Peyton.
“Sorry,” she says, and even though I don’t want to—yeah, okay, maybe I do—I let my gaze roam over her, taking pleasure in the tiny pair of sleep shorts that showcase her long sleek legs, and tank top that does little to hide her lush breasts. If she moved just right, I’d get a lovely view of her nipple. Good God, am I fourteen? My dick is sure acting like it as it twitches and urges me to go for it. I sink lower into the water. She folds her arms over her body and hugs herself, cutting off my exploration.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be standing there,” I say.
“I knocked on your bedroom door and you didn’t answer. I heard a noise up here and figured I’d find you.”
“You found me.”
She scrunches her face up, her body wound tight, and I know her well enough to recognize when she’s unsure about something. She has a lot of tells, much like her brother. Unease worms its way through me as she shifts from one foot to the other.
I narrow my gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“I just...this is going to sound ridiculous.” She backs up a bit and drops her arms, a cascade of auburn hair falling over her breasts as she glances down.
“Hey, what is it?” I ask, and as my arousal morphs into worry, I step from the pool. Water drips from my body and puddles at my feet as her gaze drops to take in my near nakedness.
“Wow,” she says under her breath, and damn, the fact that she likes what she sees isn’t helping my hands-off situation at all. Tonight, however, under the covers, it’s going to be all hand on dick.
“Peyton,” I say, and her head lifts, a dazed look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She swallows, briefly closes her eyes, and when she opens them again she stares uncomfortably at the majestic view in the distance. “I just wanted to ask you if it was okay if I left the bathroom light on, and the door leading to my bedroom cracked. It’s an adjoining bathroom, so I wanted to make sure you were okay with that.” Her look is almost sheepish when she adds, “It’s a strange place and all, and if I have to get up in the middle of the night...” Her words fall off and my stomach sinks. This isn’t about strange places and needing to go to the bathroom at night. It’s about Peyton not liking the dark. Sweet little Peyton who was tossed around in the system, oftentimes getting separated from her brother, is afraid of the dark, and that’s so sad. My heart squeezes so tight I could damn near sob. Goddamn I hate how cruel the world was to her. I hate how cruel I was to her, but I need her to hate me.
“I don’t mind at all,” I say around a lump in my throat.
“Okay, thanks.”
She stands there for a moment. “You should put a shirt on. You look cold. Pants, too.” I follow her eyes down to see the bulge my boxers are doing a piss-poor job of hiding.
“I’m fine,” I say, even though I’m far from it. “You’re the one who’s always cold.”
She glances around and I stare at her ass when she walks up to a cabinet beneath the pergola and opens it. She goes up on her toes, stretching out her long, sexy legs, and visions of me taking her from behind hit like a punch and nearly knock the wind out of me.
“Jackpot,” she says, and pulls out a big white towel. “At least wrap yourself in this before you freeze to death.”
“I’m not cold,” I say again.
Ignoring me, she shakes it out and our hands touch as she tries to throw it over my shoulders. Warmth, need and lust hit at the same time, and a growl crawls out of my throat as I envision my hands on her body, removing those sexy shorts and burying my mouth between her soft thighs.
“Shit,” I murmur under my breath, and put the towel around her quivering shoulders instead. I tug her to me, offering the warmth of my body and anything else she might like.
Get it together, dude.
“Roman,” she says as she swipes her tongue over her bottom lip. “What...what are you doing?”
My head dips, my lips inches from hers. I want to kiss her. Jesus, there are a lot of things I want to do with her. I breathe her in, let her sweet, flowery aroma feed the hunger building inside me.
“I’m not the one who is cold and wet,” she says with a huff.
Oh God, Roman. Don’t think about her being wet.
“You need to put the towel around you, not me,” she continues.
“Peyton,” I growl as she tries to shrug the towel off.
“What?”
“Leave it.”
“Leave what?”
“Just...stop, okay,” I say, my voice thick with lust.
“Stop what?”
“Stop talking,” I say, the push and pull between us arousing me more. “You know what will happen if you don’t.”
“I am not going to stop—” Her protest dies on her lips and my words slowly register in her brain. Yeah, that’s right, Peyton, you either shut up or I’ll shut you up.
“Roman,” she murmurs, her gaze moving over my face. A beat passes between us, and then a change comes over her. Her body relaxes, her throaty little moan letting me know exactly what she’s thinking—what she wants. Oh, hell no! She steps closer, crowding me. “What if I don’t want to stop?” she challenges.
Jesus Christ, is she really going there? She knows I can’t—won’t. I clench down on my jaw, hard enough to break bone, and work to fight the need racing through my blood. I can’t let her get the upper hand here. If I do, I just might give her what we both want.
“Aren’t you going to answer me?” She presses against me and her breath comes out a little quicker when my hard cock rubs against her stomach.