"Did you plan this or something?" I say, frowning at him.
"What, paying off the night manager so that I could come up to the pool bar alone and drink scotch after my fight?'
I look at him expectantly.
"Uh, yeah, Quinn, I did."
I'm laughing in spite of myself, watching his face crack into a smile as I do so.
"What, you think, that I did all this for you or something?" He grins. "I'm not telepathic, you know. It's not like I knew you were going to follow me around like a stalker tonight." I try to hide my grin, knowing he's right, and he laughs. "You're a welcomed addition though."
He reaches over the empty bar and grabs two glasses before we walk over to the pool's edge. He's kicking his shoes off, and I start to follow suit before I realize he's pulling his t-shirt up over his washboard abs and over his head.
"Uh, what are you doing?"
He tosses his shirt aside. "Uh, swimming, darlin. It's a pool, that's what you do in them."
"Cute."
"Oh, you're coming in too, you know."
I raise an eyebrow at him as he starts to unbuckle his belt. "Yeah I don't think so."
"Nope, you have to," he shrugs nonchalantly, which is hard to pull off when his face looks like the cat that just caught the canary. "Post-victory tradition, jump in the damn pool."
"I don't have a suit." It's a lame excuse, since he clearly didn't bring one either.
"Neither do I." He's stripping his jeans off, and I'm blushing but not really trying to look away as he stands there in tight, grey boxer-briefs that cling to every inch of him and I do mean every inch. It's almost not even fair. I mean the guy's a billionaire already, does he have to look like some kind of Greek warrior too? He tosses his pants onto a lounge chair and looks at me expectantly, standing there with that incredible body, with his insanely ripped abs and those twin grooves of his hips leading down …
Ooooo-kay. Yeah, I am definitely not getting in a pool with Logan Dempsey looking like that.
"Archer, you've got about 10 seconds to start stripping before I toss you in just like that."
We lock eyes, and I know he's crazy enough to be serious. He's also not going to get this one over on me, and so instead I just shrug and start unbuttoning my shorts. He smirks, looking pleased with himself.
"You didn't think I would, huh?"
"No, not really actually."
"Shows what you know then." I'm hoping my voice comes off as flippant and confident instead of the bundle of nerves I feel like inside. I'm pushing all the thoughts out of my head though of how crazy it is that I'm pulling my t-shirt up over my head and letting him see me in my black bra and panties. I'm actually relieved for a second that I actually managed to wear a matching pair, though I'm kind of wishing I wasn't wearing a damn thong.
Whatever, I think. It's not like he hasn't seen it all before.
Yeah, not really a comforting thought, actually.
But a minute later, we're both standing in chest-high water clinking glasses, and I'm doing my damnedest to not think about the fact that I'm barely a foot away from a practically naked Logan Dempsey in just my underwear.
Chapter Fifteen
Logan
Ok, there's playing with fire, and then there's just sticking your whole fuckin hand in the flames.
Late-night underwear pool-hopping with Quinn Archer is so, so much the latter.
I'm kind of going out of my mind here, and I know I'm pushing this whole "innocent flirtation" thing way too far. I'm dancing on that edge. I'm testing myself here, and I also think I'm about to lose. Why the hell is she up here? Why did I bring her, and why on Earth did she even say yes? She's a smart woman, obviously, but I'd have thought she was smart enough to see right through my bullshit and just flat-out turn me down on this. I mean the whole point was to push her buttons until she backed down and I'd just drive her home. The plan never actually went further than that. Certainly not to the point where I'm standing two feet away from her in a pool when she's just wearing that fucking black lacy bra and thong panties hugging all her curves in all the right places.
Luckily, the water surface is enough to maybe conceal the fact that my rock-hard erection is threatening to tear a hole in my briefs.
Damn, this is like the mistake I just can't let go of. If I was a smarter man - maybe if I were Bryce or something - I'd walk away right now. Erection be damned, I'd step out of this pool, call a driver for Quinn, and then leave. I'd find somewhere else to live that wasn't ten feet up from where she sleeps, find a new team member for the outreach program, and just severe ties.
Of course, looking at her now with just the tips of her dark auburn hair getting wet in the pool, the tops of her breasts glistening with drops of water in the low light, and that unintentionally coy smile, I know that none of that is happening. Not in a million fucking years.
So instead, we sit on this submerged bench seat against the side of the pool in the shallow end, sipping scotch and just staring out over the neon forest of Manhattan.
"It's pretty up here." She takes a small sip of her drink, and I'm not even able to look away from the perfectly unintentionally sexy way her lips linger on the edge of the glass as she swallows.
"I like coming up here."
"After fights?"
I nod. "Yeah, actually. It clears my head," I say, as if my head is any fucking way clear right now with her sitting so close that I can almost feel her skin against mine.
But it's true. I come up here after the fights because win or lose, it puts things in perspective for me. When I'm up here, surrounded by the trappings of wealth and power that I wield now, it forces me to remember where I am in life. That might sound absurd, or like some sort of douchebag "rich-guy problems" bullshit, but it's something I've found I need. Because again, win or lose, I have to remind myself why I fight, and I fight because this life that William Archer gave me is precious. I came from nothing, and I was nothing before he saw something in us and dragged us out of that hole. I might truly hate being beholden to Javier and the fighting, but I know I owe William even more. There was the promise made to stand tall under the responsibilities and the trust he gave me, and owning up to that debt means more to me than anything.
And so, I fight.
"Listen, sorry about snapping at you back there at the warehouse. I just-" I take a sip of the scotch and then clear my throat. "I just wasn't expecting to see you."
She fidgets with her glass. "Sorry I followed and spied on you like a stalker."
"I'd say it worked out alright," I say, chancing a grin at her.
"Well, I think we've had quite enough encounters without me following you around looking for more." Quinn says quickly, her cheeks blushing adorably as she takes a big sip of her drink.
"Oh?" I smirk at her. "And what kind of encounter were you looking for tonight, darlin?"
She stammers as her face goes bright red and she opens her mouth and closes it again quickly about three times before she just looks away. "That's- that's not what I meant."
I grin at her. "Yeah but you're dying to mean it."
The voice in my head is screaming about how terrible an idea it is to be flirting with her like this. How I need to get up and just walk the fuck away right now. But she turns and looks into my eyes, and as her pouty lips just part, her tongue slips out to wet them. I can see her chest rising and falling with her every breath, and it's almost too much for me to take before I end up ripping her panties off right here and driving my cock inside her.
I need her to roll her eyes, or smack me, or just walk away from me right now. I need a hit of reality right in the face for me to simmer the fuck down and just know how bad of an idea this is. How dangerous it is to play with this particular fire named Quinn Archer.
But instead, she does the exact fucking opposite. Instead, those big lashes of hers blink as she looks up into my face, her eyes wide and her teeth just gently biting at her lower lip as the flush from the pool and booze creeps over the tops of her breasts. And then she opens those pink, pouty lips. "Maybe."
Yeah, fuck. I'm done.
My hand goes to her hair, and I grab a handful of it as I roughly bring her crashing against my lips. She moans out this sexy-as-fuck cooing sound as I growl into her mouth. Our breaths intermingling as our tongues slide together and our lips crush against the other hard enough to bruise.
She's moaning into me, her hands running over my chest and dropping down over my abs. I grip the handful of hair tighter in my fist, loving the way she gasps into my kiss as I do. My other hand traces over her hip there and teases at the elastic of her panties. She drops her hand down into my lap, the boldness of the act from a girl like Quinn surprising me momentarily, but it's only that much hotter because of it. Her fingers grasp at my cock through my briefs, pulling at me like she needs me, and I feel like I could explode right here and now.
She gasps out loud as I yank her head back, exposing her neck to my lips and my teeth as I nibble and not so gently suck my way down to her collarbone. I'm pulling at the straps of her bra, slipping them off her shoulders as she shudders and presses against me. Her hand still stroking my cock through the fabric.
"Fuck, Logan." She gasps. "We- we can't-"