glimpse. He could hear nothing but the rushing fall of water over rocks. He emerged into a vast open area, the roar of water loud now as he stood atop the mini waterfall that fed into an oversized pool.
Still no sign of Arabella. Now he was truly worried. He skipped down the rocks to the edge of the water. Where was she? Had someone taken her right from under his nose? Was she—
Something grabbed his ankles, and he peered down to see a wet Arabella rising from the water, a sea nymph in a bra and panties, grinning in triumph as she yanked his ankles and dragged him in with her.
The cool shock of the water almost had him yelling. He remembered enough to keep his mouth closed until his head broke the surface.
A sleek, wet head popped up alongside him.
“Baby, I am going to make you suffer for that.”
“Should I be scared?”
“Very.” Because he’d make her suffer the same kind of arousal that plagued him.
Before she could swim away, he snared her and bound her with his long arms. Lucky for him that, while the water proved fairly deep, he could still stand in it and keep most of his upper chest and head above the surface.
Perfect because he had better uses for his energy than keeping afloat. He’d need it for the kiss he planned on giving her. A long, freaking kiss.
She didn’t try to escape his grasp. On the contrary, she wound herself around him, bound him with her legs, tied him with her arms.
Excellent, as it put her in the right spot for him to initiate the embrace. Yeah, baby, claim those lips and devour them.
However, today was a day of surprises. She claimed his mouth first, plastered hers against it, and tugged his bottom lip with her teeth.
From loose to tight, his grip on her changed, his arms binding her to him, especially when the tip of her tongue played with the seam of lips.
While their lips got closely acquainted, their hands didn’t remain idle. Hers kneaded the thick muscles that ran across his shoulders. She threaded her fingers through the wet mass of his hair. She ground her sex, clad in wet panties, against his abdomen.
All lovely treats, but he focused more on the exploration of her curves. Once he realized she wasn’t going anywhere, he loosened the hug. The water provided a buoyant medium that allowed him to let go so his hands could skim flesh. Down her ribcage his fingers slid to the swell of her buttocks and paused for a squeeze. A perfect handful for gripping. Nice.
He left one hand holding her squeezable ass while the other roamed upward over the swell of her hip and farther up to the lace fabric cupping a perfect peach.
Yes, he would compare her breast to a fruit. Round, firm, with just a little spongy give, succulent to bite into, sweet to the taste, addictive as well.
He couldn’t resist.
His hands spanned her waist so he could lift her from the water and position her at just the right height, the right height being where his mouth could tug at the wet fabric until a puckered berry popped out.
It didn’t remain exposed for long, not with his mouth immediately covering it.
He groaned. She groaned. They both groaned as he played with the nipple. There were no words exchanged between them, nothing but soft pants and moans of pleasure.
And the splash as something hit the water.
Then another something. The faint echo of a gunshot froze him.
Shit. Someone was fucking shooting at them.
“Take a deep breath,” was the only warning he gave before yanking Arabella underwater where they’d prove a more difficult target.
Wide eyes met his under the surface. Kind of hard to explain. Only his great-uncle Clive had ever inherited the famous Johnson gills. Hayder got great hair.
Since he couldn’t explain why it appeared he wanted to drown her, he kicked off. With her in tow, he scissor-kicked to the deep end of the pool by the waterfall. Having explored this place many a time when working off some energy, he knew the perfect spot to shelter while he figured out where
Still no sign of Arabella. Now he was truly worried. He skipped down the rocks to the edge of the water. Where was she? Had someone taken her right from under his nose? Was she—
Something grabbed his ankles, and he peered down to see a wet Arabella rising from the water, a sea nymph in a bra and panties, grinning in triumph as she yanked his ankles and dragged him in with her.
The cool shock of the water almost had him yelling. He remembered enough to keep his mouth closed until his head broke the surface.
A sleek, wet head popped up alongside him.
“Baby, I am going to make you suffer for that.”
“Should I be scared?”
“Very.” Because he’d make her suffer the same kind of arousal that plagued him.
Before she could swim away, he snared her and bound her with his long arms. Lucky for him that, while the water proved fairly deep, he could still stand in it and keep most of his upper chest and head above the surface.
Perfect because he had better uses for his energy than keeping afloat. He’d need it for the kiss he planned on giving her. A long, freaking kiss.
She didn’t try to escape his grasp. On the contrary, she wound herself around him, bound him with her legs, tied him with her arms.
Excellent, as it put her in the right spot for him to initiate the embrace. Yeah, baby, claim those lips and devour them.
However, today was a day of surprises. She claimed his mouth first, plastered hers against it, and tugged his bottom lip with her teeth.
From loose to tight, his grip on her changed, his arms binding her to him, especially when the tip of her tongue played with the seam of lips.
While their lips got closely acquainted, their hands didn’t remain idle. Hers kneaded the thick muscles that ran across his shoulders. She threaded her fingers through the wet mass of his hair. She ground her sex, clad in wet panties, against his abdomen.
All lovely treats, but he focused more on the exploration of her curves. Once he realized she wasn’t going anywhere, he loosened the hug. The water provided a buoyant medium that allowed him to let go so his hands could skim flesh. Down her ribcage his fingers slid to the swell of her buttocks and paused for a squeeze. A perfect handful for gripping. Nice.
He left one hand holding her squeezable ass while the other roamed upward over the swell of her hip and farther up to the lace fabric cupping a perfect peach.
Yes, he would compare her breast to a fruit. Round, firm, with just a little spongy give, succulent to bite into, sweet to the taste, addictive as well.
He couldn’t resist.
His hands spanned her waist so he could lift her from the water and position her at just the right height, the right height being where his mouth could tug at the wet fabric until a puckered berry popped out.
It didn’t remain exposed for long, not with his mouth immediately covering it.
He groaned. She groaned. They both groaned as he played with the nipple. There were no words exchanged between them, nothing but soft pants and moans of pleasure.
And the splash as something hit the water.
Then another something. The faint echo of a gunshot froze him.
Shit. Someone was fucking shooting at them.
“Take a deep breath,” was the only warning he gave before yanking Arabella underwater where they’d prove a more difficult target.
Wide eyes met his under the surface. Kind of hard to explain. Only his great-uncle Clive had ever inherited the famous Johnson gills. Hayder got great hair.
Since he couldn’t explain why it appeared he wanted to drown her, he kicked off. With her in tow, he scissor-kicked to the deep end of the pool by the waterfall. Having explored this place many a time when working off some energy, he knew the perfect spot to shelter while he figured out where
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