In Over Our Heads by Celeste Straub

Author:Celeste Straub [Straub, Celeste]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-09-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Still blissed out, and feeling very much boneless, Zach’s invitation to go inside ignites a new flash of heat through my core, awakening my drowsy limbs. And reminding me that we’re quite close to crossing the line into exhibitionists.

Close? You flew past it.

A flush colors my cheeks, having nothing to do with where his hands have just been. I nod vigorously even though I’m not sure my legs are willing to walk yet, let alone swim.

Seeming to sense my state, he guides us both back to shore with one arm tight around my waist. We scramble out and hurry toward the house, a trail of water dripping in our wake. The blast of air conditioning as we walk in finally seems to pull me from my stupor.

“I can’t believe we did that in public.” I glance out the window at the waterfall, face coloring again as I wonder exactly how loud I’d been and how far the sound might have carried.

He laughs as he herds me into the bathroom and tosses me a fluffy bath towel. As I press the towel to my face and hair, then wipe down the rest of my body, I can’t help but wonder if I somehow misread his intentions, since he didn’t lead us directly to the bedroom.

As I look up from drying my feet, I find Zach’s boxers on the tile floor as he fastens his towel low around his waist. The muscles just below his abs form a defined V, channeling my line of sight downward and causing my mouth to go dry as my towel tumbles from my fingers.

He takes a single step closer, grinning like a fox who’s made it into the chicken coop undetected. “It’s not public. We’re on private property. And I have it on good authority that the owner is especially rough on trespassers.”

Nope. You read his intentions perfectly.

The playful sensuality of his words boosts my heart rate. Catching my bottom lip between my teeth, I bat my eyelashes. “How rough?”

“Brutal. He’s been known to make them beg. Even scream.” His face remains blank, as if he were merely remarking on the weather.

I nearly swallow my tongue.

He stoops and retrieves my towel, eying up the trails of water still dripping from my soaked bra and panties. Closing the gap between up, he runs the towel up my body to catch the moisture, then reaches behind me with one hand and pops open the clasp of my bra.

“That’s a new trick.” I offer him a teasing grin, recalling how there was a time when asking him to take off my bra was akin to breaking into Fort Knox. I shrug and let the garment hit the floor with a wet slap.

“Things change.” He parrots my tone from yesterday. “People change.”

He fixes me with a meaningful stare and a tremor runs up my spine. We’re not talking about his bra unclasping skills anymore, and we both know it.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Refusing to think deeper into his meaning, I run my hands up the smooth, defined muscles on his chest and onto his shoulders.

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