Flock

“Nice place.”

“Thanks, I’ll tell the owner.”

He looks around. “You really don’t want to stake any claim in all this?”

I shrug. “I didn’t earn it.”

He shakes his head and lets out a low whistle, sca

“Yep, and trust me, it’s just as foreign to me as it is to you.”

“How so?”

“We’ve been estranged for years. I had to outgrow my adolescence before he decided we could have a relationship again.”

“That’s shitty.”

“Enough about Roman. You swimming or not?”

Dropping his T-shirt and smokes, he dives in, and I turn in time to see him emerge, a river pouring from his thick blond strands, sliding down his impressive chest.

He lifts to stand, towering above the water line, marking his height an inch or two above six feet.

“How you feelin’ today, lightweight?” He asks, his faint drawl distinct, like perfectly edited punctuation.

“I feel…like I got drunk off a few chick beers. And maybe a little embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. You made an impression.”

“Couldn’t have been much of one, I got kicked out.” I tread water, feeling the burn of the sun on my back.

“That wasn’t you, it was Dom, trust me.”

“So, tell me why you quit the plant the first time.”

“I was working at the garage, but Dom graduated from college and came back to claim my spot.”

“Dominic just graduated?”

He hikes a brow. “You judged him that hard, Pup?”

“Maybe, but he’s a dick. Where did he go to college?”

“Just got his masters from MIT. Computer geek. He’s an evil genius with a keyboard.”

My interest only grows. “Really?”

He lifts one side of his mouth. “You impressed?”

I stand stu

I sputter out the water in surprise. “You ass!”

“You’re in a pool.” He lifts a thick brow. “Bound to get wet.”

His statement is loaded with insinuation, and I know Christy would have a field day if she saw this guy. I can hardly believe he’s standing in Roman’s pool.

I move to engage in his play and turn swiftly instead, pulling myself from the water before adjusting my bikini to make sure I’m covered. I picked the less revealing of the two I own, but I might as well be naked with the feel of his eyes on me.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m thirsty? You?”

His eyes dip to the water dripping from my neck. “Sure.”

“Water? Tea? Grape juice?”

“Surprise me.”

“Surprise,” I say, stripping the water from my hair with a towel before wrapping it around me and widen my eyes. “It’ll be grape juice.”

“Living it up today, huh?” His smile is blinding. I fight the urge to ask him to take off his shades. Walking toward the house, I can feel the tension coiling, and I know the goosebumps on my skin have little to do with the air hitting my wet body. Once inside, I carefully trek over the sea of polished marble and peek outside to see Sean hoist himself up on the side of the pool, lighting a cigarette, waiting for me. Fighting the urge to text Christy, I bury my face in my hands and feel a smile building beneath. Though I’ve only had two partners, I’m not an i

Opening the fridge, I grab two bottles of grape juice and again glance outside. When I was seventeen, I had a horrible crush on Brad Portman. The feelings that stirred in me when the attraction was returned were some I knew could never be topped. Later, when he kissed me for the first time and fire exploded in my chest and belly before trickling to my core, I was sure nothing could come close to that euphoria, nor the feeling of when he closed his eyes tight with pleasure and pressed inside me, claiming my virginity.

Those feelings and memories, I swore would remain the hottest moments of my life, until I walked outside, juice in hand, to see Sean lift his sunglasses.