Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(19)

Tricia dug through her bag, finding the modest black swimsuit she'd  thrown in during her whirlwind packing. Passing by the beds again, she  felt Damon's eyes following her to the bathroom; they followed her again  as she emerged, wrapped in the far-too-tiny towel provided by the  hotel.

"Have fun," Damon said, laying on the bed with his hands behind his head.

"You know, you can see the pool from the window," she said, nodding  towards the big window that covered one wall of the hotel room. "Just in  case you get bored of looking at the ceiling."

Damon lifted himself onto his elbows, gave her a level stare.

"Do you want me to watch you? Make sure everything is okay?"

Tricia's brow furrowed. That's not really what she'd meant at all. She  just thought he might appreciate the view of her without the towel  around her waist.

"Uh," she said. "No, I'm alright. It was just an idea."

Damon nodded, but his expression remained firmly determined. Tricia left  wondering if she'd somehow messed up, if Damon's mixed signals weren't  mixed at all, but she was just reading them all wrong. She decided to  put it out of her head while she swam; perhaps the kinks in her back  from a long day of driving were clouding her senses.





20





The few men she'd seen loitering around the pool hadn't seemed to move  much in the time it took her to get changed and walk down to join them.  She lay her towel out on a lounging chair, aware of but unbothered by  the looks she attracted. A look was just a look. It couldn't hurt her.

Slipping into the pool, she sighed from the reprieve it gave from the  heat, the immediate sensation of weightlessness afforded by the water.  She'd been on the swim team when she was younger, before nature gave her  a body that didn't cut through water as easily as her flat-chested,  rail-thin teammates.

Now, as she pushed off the wall, she just enjoyed the natural rhythm of  her body, acting off long-instilled instinct, her arms turning into  knives that sliced the still, blue surface, her legs propellers. She did  a few laps back and forth, wishing the pool was larger, then settled  herself along the far edge, where it was deepest.

She let her legs drift below her, scrunching and releasing her toes. She  gave a friendly wave to two of the men as they left the pool area,  their voices seeming muted in the thick air. They'd been talking about a  fishing trip. Tricia closed her eyes and thought about going fishing  with her father when she was younger, her mind drifting along just like  her legs, easy and free. This was a nice moment.         

     



 

Until she felt a blast of chlorinated water against her face. Shocked,  she opened her eyes and blew hard from her nose to clear it of the  intruding water. The third man, the one with the cooler, had jumped in  right beside her, splashing her with the wave he created. His laugh hit  her just as hard, and she bit back her irritation to return his grin.

"Nice day for a swim, huh?" he asked. He couldn't have been more than  22, with a bright red head of hair and a spray of freckles across his  nose. Cute enough that Tricia would have flirted with him  –  four years  ago, if she wasn't already interested in another man. A man, not a boy.

"Sure is," she answered as he paddled away, swimming backwards. She  closed her eyes, hoping it would tell him she wasn't in the mood for  making friends. But when she opened her eyes again, she saw that he  hadn't paddled away very far. He was swimming in a line a few feet away  from her, his blue eyes fixed on hers.

"You from around here?" he asked, keeping his chin above the ripples.

"No," she said. "Delaware. If I was from around here, I wouldn't be at a hotel, right?"

"Oh," he said. "Well, kids sneak in here all the time. I don't have to, my mom is the housekeeping supervisor."

"Cool," Tricia said, pressing herself back as far as she could against  the wall. She was a little annoyed about the interruption of her Zen  moment.

"I've never been to Delaware," the kid said, stopping his mini-laps and floating in place.

"Yeah," she said. "Well, it's not exactly the place to be. If you're driving through, you blink once and it's gone."

"You go to school there?"

Damn, the kid was persistent. Still, she had to admit to being a little  flattered. At 26, she rarely got taken for a college girl anymore.

"No," she said. "I graduated years ago."

"Aw, shit," he said, splashing a bit of water around. "What, did you skip some grades in school?"

Tricia shook her head. This had gone past the realm of friendly conversation. She should have known.

"I go to school over at Trident Technical. Graphic design," he said.

"Cool," Tricia said, looking away now and wondering if she should just  get out. She wanted to swim a bit more, but not if it meant she had to  endure much more of this.

"You want a beer?" he asked and swam over to her side, mimicking her posture against the wall.

"No, thanks," she said, and pushed off, leaving him behind as she swam  towards the opposite side of the pool. To her consternation, she saw him  following her when she turned her head during her stroke, his own  swimming sloppy and splashy. He followed her to the far end and back,  was panting by the time they had made a full round. When she pushed off  the end again, meaning to outswim him until he gave up, she felt his  hand on her arm, stopping her mid-stroke.

"Hey, you're a good swimmer," he said through labored breaths. "Wanna show me a few tricks?"

She yanked her arm free, glaring at him.

"Not really," she said. "Sorry, but I'm just trying to relax."

"Oh, I get it," he said. "You'd relax more with a beer."

"I don't think so," she said and dove underwater, swimming away from him  again and hoping that her kicking legs sent a good dose of chlorine his  way. When she got to the shallow end and turned around, he saw he was  still waiting for her at the deep end. Now, he looked a lot less  friendly.

Tricia groaned and stood up. So much for getting the kinks out, she  thought, splashing her way towards the stairs. The noise she made  covered the sound of the kid lifting himself out of the pool, but she  heard the slapping of his feet as he trotted towards her across the wet  cement. She didn't look back, though, making straight for her towel.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I ruined your swim," his voice came from behind her  as she wiped the towel across her face. "Just don't usually get pretty  girls around the pool. Usually it's all old ladies who wanna do water  aerobics or whatever. And parrotheads asking where the Tiki Bar is."

"It's alright," Tricia said, running the towel over her hair to get the worst of the wet out.

"C'mon, let me make it up to you, have a drink, it's a good day for a cold beer," the kid said. "I'm Ron, by the way."

"It's really okay, Ron," Tricia said. "I'm just going to go back to my room and … "

"Hey," Ron said, and the tone in his voice forced Tricia to look at him.  He reached out once more, taking hold of her arm. Firmer now. "Don't be  a bitch. I'm trying to be a nice guy here."         

     



 

"I'm not being a bitch, kid," she hissed, trying to shake free but finding his grip tight. "I'm just not interested in … "

"Fuck off," a voice said from just outside the gate. A voice Tricia  recognized in an instant. For a moment, she forgot about the boy's hold  on her arm and turned to look at Damon, striding towards them. "Can't  you see she's not fucking interested?"

Before Ron or Tricia could react, Damon was on them, pushing the kid  away so hard that he stumbled backward, nearly falling into the pool.

"What the fuck, man? Who the fuck are you?" Ron's face reddened, anger  contorting his features. "You her fuckin' bodyguard or something? I  think the lady can decide for herself if … "

"Keep talking, dilo," Damon growled, advancing until he was nearly on  top of the kid, leaning in so far that Ron's heels dangled over the side  of the pool. "You really wanna know who I fuckin' am? I don't think you  do."

"Where the fuck did you even come from, man? I'm gonna tell the fuckin' manager and he'll kick you out of here so fast … "

Tricia stifled a cry as Damon pushed again. This time, there was nowhere  for the kid to go but down. His back hit the water with a splash, a  splash that was followed by the sound of Damon jumping in after him.  Tricia rushed to the side of the pool, worried that the kid had hit his  head; it was the shallow end. When Ron didn't surface immediately, she  began to panic, her heart kicking up into double time.

"Damon! Damon! You have to … "

But then she saw why he hadn't come back up for air. Damon was holding  the kid by his red, red hair. Bubbles floated upward to the surface and  Ron's hands slapped at the surface of the water, the shivering image of  his legs under the water frantic as they kicked. Damon was soaked up to  his chest, still wearing his clothes, as he held the boy's head  underwater.