that. Strip.”
Her nipples tightened painfully under her shirt, as if she was the one doused in cold stream water.
“I’m rethinking the swimming thing,” she said, stalling. Stalling, because as soon as she removed her shirt, it would be obvious how much he affected her. “I’m sure I saw an eel. You should just hang out in there by yourself for a bit longer, see if one bites you on the butt.”
He grinned, wide and as sexy as hell. Water dribbled down his face, dripped off his lips. “There’s only one eel in this pool, and he doesn’t bite. Much.” He launched himself higher on the rock, the corded muscles of his arms defined with all his weight resting on them. “Now strip before I’m forced to toss you into the pool, clothes and all.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Glen arched an eyebrow.
He would; he really would.
Savannah wriggled the shorts down her hips and kicked them off, then tugged up the tee shirt so it covered her radioactively hot face. Conscious of every second passing as she wrestled the shirt over her head, his hungry gaze tracking her from head to toe, Savannah shivered, as if a physical weight lifted from her shoulders. While some nerves remained, the type of nerves had changed—from doubt into pleasurable anticipation.
She dropped the shirt, her heart fluttering so fast it almost grew wings and burst from her chest. “If you want me, come and get me.”
His grin turned wicked. Glen climbed onto the rock, board shorts clinging to his long thighs, water streaming down his chest and legs.
“You want to play.”
It wasn’t a question, and his rough voice devastated her composure. Yeah, she wanted to play, and he knew exactly what kind of game.
He moved in close but didn’t touch any part of her. Rays of sunshine sizzled on her bare skin. She was hot. God, so hot. A pulse bumped, throbbed, at the base of his throat, and the chill emanating off him seemed to evaporate in the heat she’d generated.
“What game do you want to play?” She couldn’t draw enough oxygen into her lungs, and her breath rasped like a faulty air-conditioner.
“Marco Polo? Cannonball jump? Catch the eel?” Laughter warmed his voice as his gaze skimmed her face.
Someone moved—she had no idea who, because his words held her spellbound—and she plastered herself against him. Breast to chest, thigh to thigh, and groin to groin, dampness meeting heat, skin sticking together. If she’d been able to drag her gaze from his, she expected she’d see steam rising.
She stared, drowning on dry land as his arms locked around her.
“Are you going to get me all wet now?” Her face flamed nuclear. “That came out wrong,” she squeaked. “I meant—”
She never finished explaining, as Glen lowered his head and kissed the explanation right out of her brain. His lips were cool and firm, but his tongue plundered her mouth, hot and demanding complete surrender. Her fingertips digging into the wedge of muscles spanning from his neck to his shoulder, Sav tried to hold some part of herself back.
Surrender meant weakness. Surrender meant giving another man control, and she’d sworn, after Liam, she wouldn’t do that again. But, oh, Liam never kissed her like this, never made her laugh, or curse with frustration, or made her feel so damn much. He never touched her with only his words and the emotion in his eyes.
Glen pulled back, gently nipping her lower lip. She slid a hand down from his neck, lightly raking her nails over his chest to the waistband of his shorts. Tilting her hips, she ground the length of him, at the same time getting a firm hold on his butt. The water soaking his shorts transferred into her bikini bottoms but did nothing to cool the throbbing between her thighs.
Glen groaned, the hand resting on her lower back dropping to cup her bottom, his hips thrusting forward.
“No games,” she whispered. “I want you—here, now.” No excuses, this time.
His breath huffed softly on her temple, and he gave her bottom another squeeze. “I want you too. Five years of Boy Scouts taught me to be prepared—there’s protection in my pocket.”
She licked her lips, and her internal muscles clenched as he tracked the movement like a predator spotting its prey. He gave her bottom one last squeeze before he pulled back and turned away. He moved behind her and shook out the towels, spreading them in a double layer over the rock.
Glen knelt, pressing his face to her stomach, his lips