Full House Seduction. A.C. Arthur

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      Brock released a breath with her words. For a moment he thought she was going to be all awkward and bothered by their kiss. The kiss that had kept him up most of the night. But she seemed to be pretty relaxed as she swam slowly beside him. They watched each other between strokes but didn’t speak. She looked confident, self-assured as she cut through the water. He liked that. It convinced him that his instincts about her had been right. She wasn’t one of those starry-eyed women who took a kiss to mean the beginning of some life-changing relationship.

      That wasn’t what Brock needed in his life. He’d had enough emotional issues without adding more. Besides, he had nothing to offer a woman on a long-term basis, nothing at all.

      But right now, at this very moment he knew what he wanted to offer Noelle Vincent. He wanted her—there was absolutely no doubt about that. Beneath him, on top of him—each and every possible position had run quickly through his mind.

      When he’d heard the water and looked out his window to see her in the pool this morning, his desire to be close to her had only heightened. She wore a bikini that showed more than it hid. His mouth had literally begun to water, his erection growing so hard it had taken several minutes and thoughts of the last few World Series baseball games to get it to go down enough for him to comfortably slip into his swim trunks.

      So deep in his lavacious thoughts of her it took a moment before Brock realized she’d stopped swimming.

      “What? Is something wrong?” he asked, treading water as he looked back at her.

      “No. This is just so boring. Since we’re both out here I was thinking…”

      What were you thinking? Brock found himself with a ridiculous urge to hear all her thoughts, to know any and everything about her. She was even prettier first thing in the morning with her hair soaking wet, no makeup and a bathing suit that would send a blind geriatric man into cardiac arrest.

      “Let’s race!” she suggested with an exuberant smile.

      Now that was the very last thing Brock had imagined or hoped she’d say.

      “Race? I don’t think so,” he began.

      “Oh, come on, don’t be such a dud.”

      Smacking her hands against the water, she smiled as it splashed in his face. Brock blinked the droplets away, not sure if he’d just been insulted or not.

      “Unless you’re afraid to be beaten by a girl.” She batted her long lashes and gave a sweeter than natural smile.

      Brock caught the competitive gleam in her eye. She was certainly a surprise. Bright and chipper so early in the morning and manipulative, too. Oh yeah, he was liking her more and more by the second. She’d suggested the race, but Brock was going to make sure the results turned out in his favor.

      “What do I get if I win?” he asked.

      “Hmm,” she thought for a minute. “My admiration for loosening up enough to race in the first place.”

      “Okay,” Brock said slowly. He could accept her admiring him. But he wanted more. “And what else?”

      “A ‘congratulations,’” she answered with a raised brow.

      “Add a congratulatory hug and kiss and I’m game.”

      Noelle contemplated a moment. Kissing Brock again would be dangerous, she knew, and potentially fatal to her newfound resolve. But there were no worries—he wouldn’t win.

      “Deal.” She reached out a hand only to be startled by the instant warmth when his connected with hers in what should have been a friendly shake. It was weird and made her uncomfortable so she pulled away.

      Brock’s smile never wavered. “Need a handicap, pretty lady?”

      Her answer was another splash of water in his face. “Only if you do.”

      Laughter bubbled in his chest as he smiled. “Four lengths,” he said as they made their way to the end of the pool.

      “On your mark,” she said keeping her eye on the other side of the pool.

      “Go!” he yelled and they both pushed off.

      Brock was a swimmer, she probably should have guessed that by the size of his pool, but still she’d challenged him. And as far as he could see, she was going neck and neck with him.

      Slapping the wall they headed off for the second length. She was beautiful, more so than just the nice body and pretty smile. She cut through the water with a sleek grace that rivaled any Olympic swimmer. Never backing down, never slowing, she kept up with him without even panting. He was beyond impressed.

      On the third length Brock picked up, waiting to catch the win, but she kept up with him, just a head behind. He was still holding back, toying with the idea of letting her win, СКАЧАТЬ