Pushing off the wall, I swim to the other side of the pool to give him privacy while he talks with the band’s manager.
“Do you want a drink?” he asks, calling to me.
I turn around and balance with my arms on the edge. My eyes meet his and I reply, “Sure. Whatever you’re having.”
His phone rings again as he walks inside and I start to wonder if this is how his days in L.A. will be—here physically, but too busy to invest in us.
I untie my top when he returns. He has what appears to be two whiskey and Cokes. He sets them down near the steps and I toss my top at him. “Come in with me.”
His phone beeps with a text and he looks down at the screen. Frustrated, I take my bottoms off and hit him in the chest. Surprised, he looks at me. With a raised eyebrow, he jumps into the pool, clothes and all and comes after me. I splash him, laughing he jumped in fully clothed. Grabbing me to him, he says, “You look good in my pool.” His hand slides up my naked body.
“I like your pool a lot.” I tug at his shirt. “But you’d look better without these on.”
“Wet isn’t enough? I can’t please you woman,” he says, laughing, making me giggle in return. He strips his shirt off, then his jeans come down, but he struggles in the water, so I go under and help him out.
Our bodies come together and he grabs my hair, tilting my head back gently and kissing me. When I wrap my arms and legs around him, I hold him close. Our lips part and our tongues meet. There’s something magnetic when we’re together, something more powerful, a draw stronger than us.
My back is pressed against the stone side, his erection pressed against me. Dalton’s stubble scrapes my skin as his lips caress my neck. The pain mixed with pleasure sends tremors through my body.
“I want you,” he whispers, his breath harsh against my jaw.
I stroke the back of his head, my own voice laden with heavy breaths. “You have me.”
He lifts up, his eyes locking on mine. “I want to be inside you. Right now.”
My breath slows, deepens as I realize what he’s saying. My tone dips, and I say, “Dalton—”
“Forget it,” he says, pushing away and swimming to the other side of the pool.
“Dalton? Don’t leave.” I swim after him, but he’s already climbing out.
“Don’t worry about it.” He goes inside, leaving the door open behind him.
I stand in the shallow end of the pool, confused to why he’s so upset. Going to the stairs, I get out and hurry across the stone and deck, glad everyone left the house earlier since I’m naked. I chase him upstairs, knowing he’s gone to the master bedroom. Leaving a trail of water in my wake, I enter the bedroom. The shower is on. Slowly, I walk inside the large bathroom. His head is tilted back, the water raining down on his face, his hands rubbing his eyes.
I’m tentative when I step in next to him. His eyes open and he glances sideways at me.
With my fingertips, I touch his shoulder, tracing his flag tattoo, and say, “I’m sorry for upsetting you. If you want to talk about it—”
“I don’t.” He turns back under the water, causing my hand to fall away while he rinses his hair.
I refuse to indulge his mood. “Fine,” I reply, turning to leave the shower.
He grabs my arm and I’m suddenly spun and pinned against the cold tile wall. “Stay.”
Glaring at him, I’m not sure what I want to do. My stubborn side wants to win, walking out to teach him a lesson. I’m just not sure what lesson that would teach, so I stay, letting him win this round. “What?”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Me? You don’t be like that. You act like me wanting to use a condom wrecked your whole world outside. And you’re telling me not to be like that?”
“Yeah, I am.” His hand slides up my neck, his thumb putting pressure as he moves. He comes closer. His lips are almost on mine, but he stops, and says, “I know your body, Holliday. I know every inch of it, touched it, kissed it, can manipulate your impulses to my will. But sometimes I don’t know what you’re thinking or what you think about me.”
“The fun of a relationship is discovering all those things in time.”
He leans back and asks, “What happens after? After you find out too much?”
“Too much, as in, you don’t think I’ll want you?”
His gaze lowers to his hand on my throat, his thumb pressing against my pulse, seeming to count each racing beat of my heart. “Not when you see the ugly side.”
Leaning forward, I kiss the corner of his mouth. “We can’t predict the future and there’s no reward in that anyway.” His hand slides down my wet body, stopping on my hip where my tattoo is. When he looks back up at me, I say, “As for the condom, I’m not ready to not use one. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, but in the moment shouldn’t be when we’re discussing the issue. It’s more complicated than that… and too important to treat casually.”