The questions were eating away at him. Between Little Lilac and the pole dancing classroom—and the woman he strongly suspected was a stripper—he’d learned a lot about Natasha today, seen other parts of her life that intrigued him, and he wanted to bombard her with inquiries until he knew everything there was to know about her.

But as antsy as her mysteries made him, he couldn’t demand she spill her secrets. She had to offer them willingly. He had to show her he was worthy of them.

That meant giving her space, when all he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and beg her to tell him everything.

For the past three years, he’d made the first move every time, because he wanted her. But all it had ever been between them was sex, because he was scared to ask for more.

What if she felt the same way?

And okay, he’d been scared to offer more. The last time he had, he’d been laughed at. No sense making a move until he was sure of the result.

Right?

It had been his guiding principle in business and relationships for many years. He didn’t know how to put his heart, or his business rep, on the line. He couldn’t chance failing. He couldn’t chance losing everything he’d worked for.

He’d lost everything once. While he was grateful to his family for making the choice, moving to America had left a mark on him. The stress and fear of that time never really went away, carried in his blood and in his bones.

But if he wanted this to work, he had to trust Natasha. He had to show her she was safe. Even if it left him feeling unsteady.

Once they were in the house, he stopped at the kitchen doorway to suggest they make coffee or a snack, but she kept going on her crutches, through the living room to the sliding glass doors.

“Where are you going?”

She shot him a shy look over her shoulder. “It’s hot out. I was thinking it would be nice to use the pool.”

“Okay . . .”

When she struggled to unlatch the sliding doors, he rushed to help her, but she got them undone and was out before he could reach her.

“Tasha?” He followed her to the long, rectangular in-ground pool. She perched on the edge of a lounge chair and set down her crutches. He was about to offer to go back inside for her swimsuit, when she said, “Can you pass me the sunscreen?”

“Ah, yeah.” He looked around, then grabbed the spray-on sunscreen from the basket of pool supplies by the patio table.

He walked over to hand it to her and nearly swallowed his tongue when she pulled her thin white t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside on the chair. He didn’t say a word when she reached behind her and unclipped the lacy bra, releasing her soft, round breasts with their dark, puckered points, or when she dropped her hands and undid the button and zipper of her denim shorts and slid them—and her panties—down her long, shapely legs.

He couldn’t. He was speechless. Here she was, stripping off her clothes in his backyard in the middle of the day, like it was no big deal.

Thank god he had high fences and foliage, so the neighbors couldn’t see.

She gave him an expectant look and held out her hand. “Well?”

He swallowed hard. “Well what?”

“The sunscreen?”

“Oh. Right.” He handed her the spray. She used it all over her body, spraying first, then rubbing it into her skin with brisk strokes of her palms. When she got to her ankle, she propped it on the lounger and unwrapped it, using more care as she smoothed the sunscreen over her right foot and leg. The bruising had lightened to a greenish-yellow, and barely showed against her tawny skin.

When she sat up again, she met his eyes and shrugged. “Tan lines.” Then she flipped over onto her stomach, giving him a great view of her tight ass, and stretched out on the lounge chair. Raising her eyebrows, she held the spray can out to him.

“Do my back?”

The innocent tone wasn’t fooling him.

“Goddamn tease,” he growled, snatching the sunscreen away from her and swatting her butt. When she laughed, he sprayed it all over her back and ass and rubbed it in vigorously. “For the record, I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Do you?” She sat up to twist her hair into a knot, looking for all the world like a goddess or a nymph about to bathe in a secret, sacred lake. She was all lithe, lean limbs and graceful movements. Her eyes, when her gaze flicked over to him, held the secrets of the Universe, and the smirk playing on her wide mouth urged him to drop to his knees in worship.

“Uh, yes. I do.” What had he been saying? Oh, right. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“I’m not. Well, maybe a little.” She picked up one crutch and used it to get to her feet. They were standing a few inches apart, and he was wearing sweats, which did nothing to hide his erection. She glanced down, then patted his cheek. “Just trying to make an uncomfortable conversation a little more fun.”

He sighed. “I can’t let you use the crutches near the pool. It isn’t safe. Hold on.”

Moving quickly, he tossed aside his fitted cap—Mets, of course—and stripped out of his clothes. When he was naked, he reached for her, but she held up the can of sunscreen.

“Safety first.” She sent him a smile full of heat.

Growling a string of his favorite Russian curses, he sprayed his body and threw the can onto the chair. He had a condom in his wallet, but he’d climb out of the pool to get it if it came to that. “That’s enough. I need to cool down.”

She eyed his cock appreciatively and then had the nerve—the nerve—to lick her lips. “I see.”

He scooped her up, their sunscreen-covered bodies sliding against each other, hot and slick. “Woman, if it weren’t for your ankle, I’d toss you right into the deep end.”

She locked her arms around his neck, pressing her luscious breasts against him in the process. “Don’t you dare. I just straightened my hair this morning.”

He knew, because he’d watched her do it. She’d sat on the stepladder in his bathroom with no fewer than three heating devices and a collection of bottles, converting her mane of long dark spirals into a smooth fall of waves.

When she was done, he’d run his fingers over it and said, “You’re always beautiful, but I like your real hair.” In the mirror, her reflection had grinned and her face flushed at the compliment.

He carried her over to the pool and carefully navigated the steps into the shallow end. She sucked in a breath when her ass hit the water first, then sighed when her body was submerged.

“Feels good,” she murmured.

He tightened his arms around her. “Yeah.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed off from his shoulders and swam a few feet away, leaving him hard and aching in water up to his chest.

“Careful with your ankle,” he said, as she frolicked and slid through the water like a mermaid, her body a dark, lean column against the blue, and the light from the sun sparkling on her wet skin.

Instead of following her, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock in a tight grip.

She swam back and forth, long arms cutting through the water in a modified breaststroke, then stopped when she saw him. “Are you jerking off over there?”

“No, but I should.” He gave his cock another squeeze and groaned, wishing it was her hand on him. “Then I’ll be able to focus.”

She stopped in front of him, treading water. “You want to know about Renee.”

He did, but that was before Natasha’s wet, naked body was within arm’s reach. The water played with her image, distorting her curves. She was like a siren, calling him beneath the waves.

“Dimitri.”

“Yeah?”

She laughed and put her arms around his neck, bringing their bodies together. Under the smells of chlorine and sunscreen, he caught the sweet scent of figs. Her flat belly pressed against his cock, pushing it up between them, and he groaned again. Unable to resist her, he cupped her butt and squeezed.

“You want this?” he asked, pulling her closer.

“Yeah.” She tilted her head and her lips parted, ready for his kiss. But now it was his turn to tease.

“What did it? Watching me with the kids this morning got you ovulating?”

She splashed him, right in the face. He hadn’t seen it coming, although he should have, after a joke like that, and water went in his eyes and mouth. He tried to pinch her butt, but she was too quick, too slick, and she slipped away.

Wiping water out of his eyes, he grumbled, “You’re going to pay for that.”

She was over by the side of the pool now, near the stairs that led out. Stretching her arms out to grip the edge behind her, she gave him a wicked grin and spread her legs under the water. “Then get over here and make me pay.”

He dove under the water and swam along the bottom of the pool with quick, strong strokes until he was below her. On his way back up, he pressed his face between her legs, nuzzling her spread-open pussy with his lips, before he came out of the water for air.

Her head was tipped back, resting against the edge of the pool, and she was gasping.

“You’ve done it,” he told her, grasping her waist. “Congratulations. You’ve effectively distracted me.”

“Good,” she said, panting. “Now fuck me.”

With a groan, he hauled himself out of the pool and lunged for his pants, which were just out of reach. With wet, shaking hands, he yanked his wallet out of the back pocket, probably ruining the leather in the process, and pulled out a condom. He ripped it open, slipped it on, then slid back to the pool across the wet tiles. When he jumped back in, he splashed her a little.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Your hair was already wet.” Then he positioned himself at her waiting pussy and slid right in.

They both groaned, and he kissed her hard.

“How do you want it?” he whispered in her ear, reaching for her hands and gripping them tight.

“How we always do it. Hard and fast.”

This wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t how he’d planned to show her how much he loved and cherished her. But with her body clamped tight and hot around him, her breasts bobbing in the water and sunshine caressing her pointed nipples, he couldn’t resist her.

If this was how she’d give herself to him, he’d take it.

Slipping an arm around her back to protect her skin from the wall, he gripped the edge of the pool with his other hand for leverage, and gave it to her exactly how she’d asked for it. Hard and fast.

She locked those long legs around his hips, rocking against him as he pounded into her. Water splashed around them, and the sun beat down on his back and shoulders.

“This is how you want it?” he asked, needing to know, needing her to understand her.

“Yes.” Her voice was breathless, thready. “Yes, yes, Macho. Just like this.”

“Touch yourself.” He licked the curve of her ear, inhaling her sweetness. “Touch yourself, Tasha.”

She let go of the pool with one hand and reached between them. He felt her fingertips brush his cock and groaned, pausing when she slipped her hand lower to cup his balls. He let her fondle them for a minute, then resumed his pace. Her hand drifted away, and a moment later her fingers fluttered against her clit and his dick where they joined.

He kissed along her neck and jaw, tasting chlorine and Natasha. Her eyes closed and she bit her lip, little moans falling from her lips as her hand moved faster.

“What do you think about?” he demanded.

Her eyes cracked open a fraction, and her hand didn’t stop. “What?”

“What do you think about when I’m fucking you?”

She closed her eyes and moaned. Her body gave a little jerk against him. She was close.

He put his mouth to her ear and sucked on the lobe. Then he breathed out, in a low, deep rumble, “Natasha.”

“Nothing!” The word was half sob, half scream. Her body shivered again, and her legs tightened around him, her pelvis pumping to meet his thrusts. “Nothing. That’s why . . .”

“Why what?” He slowed his pace, pulling out and only giving her half thrusts. “Why what, Kroshka?”

She tried to pull him closer with her strong legs, but he resisted. Her voice was half sob, half gasp. “That’s why I love fucking you so much. You make my brain turn off.”

It wasn’t how he wanted to hear that word from her, but hell, he’d take it. He slammed into her, and she cried out, tightening around him. He gritted his teeth and bent his knees, changing the angle.

“Make yourself come.” He dipped his head to close his lips around one pert nipple, rolling it with his tongue.

She gasped something in Spanish he didn’t catch, and arched her back.

He lifted his head. “What was that?”

“Duro. Harder.”

He didn’t know if she meant his mouth or his cock, so he doubled his efforts on both counts, sucking harder on her tit and thrusting even deeper. She gripped his shoulder with one hand and rewarded him with a series of high-pitched moans that made his balls draw up tight.

When he switched to her other breast and laved the nipple with his tongue, she shattered. Her whole body jerked against him. Spasms rippled through her, squeezing his dick. He gave himself over to her pleasure, pumping into her in short, hard thrusts as his own orgasm roared through him and threatened to bring him to his knees.

They leaned against the wall of the pool, catching their breaths together as they sank into the water up to their necks. Dimitri pressed his face into her throat, not caring that they were sticky with sweat, sunscreen, and pool water. He just wanted to be close to her, to feel her heartbeat against his cheek.

Her shoulders lifted, and she let out a deep sigh.

“Fine,” she said in a small voice. “I’ll tell you.”

Since she was opening up to him, it was only fair he do the same. He ran his hands up and down her arms, enjoying the mix of hot skin and cool water. “Nothing you say could change my feelings for you.”

“We’ll see about that,” she muttered under her breath.