my
eyes. And then there was the shock of cold water.
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I went deep and began to kick my legs, grateful for the silence
that fell over me and the darkness in which I could hide, however briefly. My legs kicked and kicked, my arms joining in, and
when I finally surfaced and cleared the water from my eyes, I
was surprised to see that I’d swum halfway across the large pond.
I glanced down. Good. Bikini still in place, nothing exposed
that shouldn’t be.
The swans protested and took off, their large graceful bodies
slicing through the air as they landed on the soft grassy bank,
honking their annoyance.
Treading water, I turned around and I think I might have
yelped when I spied Nate so close to me, his head above water as
he watched me intently.
I wished he didn’t make me feel so nervous. I didn’t like
nervous. It meant that I wasn’t in control, and ever since that
awful night, the one I don’t like to talk about or remember, I was all about being in control.
“Feels good,” he said softly. It wasn’t a question.
I nodded, my eyes not leaving his as he floated closer. Wet,
his hair clung to his neck and disappeared into the water, while
a slow grin swept across his mouth.
I began to move backward. I couldn’t touch the bottom
where we were, and I had no idea how long I could tread water
before I’d begin to tire.
I moved back maybe ten feet and he kept pace, his eyes still
on mine. Still making me nervous.
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Juliana Ston e
“What are you doing?” I said roughly, eyeing the bank but
thinking the swans wouldn’t be happy if I hauled my butt
out onto their territory. Did swans attack people? Should I
chance it?
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asked.
I thrust my chin up and made a face. “I don’t know. That’s
why I asked.”
I refused to keep playing whatever game this was, so I
continued to tread water, and even when he floated so close
I could see the drops that clung to his eyelashes, I refused to
budge. I wasn’t used to these kinds of games.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
I said nothing because I had no idea what to say, so I shrugged,
which was kind of hard to do while treading water.
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you since yesterday.”
Holy. Hell.
“Really,” I managed to say, glad to hear the tinge of sarcasm I
was going for was present.
“Yes.” His finger grazed my thigh, and I swear my heart was
going to beat out of my chest. “Really.”
He rose up in the water an inch or so, making me suddenly
aware that even though I was treading water, he was tall enough
to stand.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
Holy shit. Did that just come out of my mouth? Was I crazy?
Uh. Stupid question. I’d been seeing a therapist for over a
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year and I’d slit my wrist. Sure, it had been a lame, half- hearted attempt, but still…I was pretty sure that passed as freaking crazy in anyone’s book.
A heartbeat passed.
And then another.
His dark eyes glittered. His hands rolled over my shoulders,
and he pulled me so close that I felt the heat from his skin on
mine. It seared through the cool water, and I felt it like a hand-print as his fingers moved down my thigh, coaxing my legs up
until I wrapped them around his waist in such a way that it
made all kinds of hot, needful things erupt inside me.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.
I was awash in sensations and feelings, and for once, I didn’t
turn them off. I let them roll over me. I let them roll into me.
Because they felt so damn good. Because they made me feel
alive, and for once, I was just going to let them be.
I wanted to let them be. I wanted to feel again. Was that
so wrong?
And when his mouth rested near my ear, my hands slowly
crept up until I clung to his shoulders like a child afraid to
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