“I think I have the hang of it.” I swim over to Cole, smiling hugely.
Granted, I haven’t actually dived to the bottom of the fifteen-foot pool, but I know how to adjust my buoyancy and clear my mask underwater.
While I practiced, he tried to put the fins on my feet, but they felt bulky and cumbersome, so I made him toss them out.
He checks my valves and adjusts the mask on my face. Then he turns to his own, his hands moving efficiently, mindlessly, like he’s done this a million times.
“Did you dive on missions?” I touch the sharp angle of his jawline.
His eyes lift to mine. “The ocean is usually the best path of escape, especially for someone trained in combat dives.” His gaze turns cloudy behind the fog-less mask, and he blinks it clear. “Go slow on the descent. Steady your breathing. I’ll do the rest.”
I’m greedy for more details about his career, but this isn’t the time. So I nod and slip the regulator into my mouth.
It takes a few minutes to get my buoyancy right. I sink too quickly, my ears popping like crazy. But when Cole removes my weight belt, I’m flipping and darting and holy shit, breathing underwater.
The thirty-pound air cylinder on my back feels like nothing in the water. I swim aimlessly, limitlessly, without a sense of the ground or the sky as my hair swirls around me in rippling waves. I feel like a mermaid.
It’s liberating, like dancing, but different. There’s no gravity, no weight, no pressure. Like an out-of-body experience or floating in outer space. Boundless and serene. Absolute freedom.
Cole hovers at the bottom of the pool, seemingly content with watching me swoop and dive around him. Tiny bubbles rise from his aeriform figure, the outline of his hard body fuzzy in the weak light of the water. But I know the instant his contentment morphs into something darker, hungrier. His head tips slightly, and he drifts closer. His forearms flex as he glides slowly through the water, circling, stalking, closing in.
I twist around, keeping him in my line of sight. A few feet away, his eyes glint like a shark. Then he shoots past me, cutting close enough to caress his fingers across my stomach.
He corrals me again and guns for another pass. This time, I feel a slight pull on my hip. My breathing accelerates, increasing the froth of bubbles around my face. When the water clears, I glance down and find the string on my hip untied, leaving my bottoms hanging on by a thread. That sneaky, flirty fucker. Where is he?
I turn in a circle, scanning the underwater horizon. He’s nowhere in sight, which means he must be hovering behind me, moving when I move.
I crane my neck, which is a challenge with the equipment on my back. A fizz of air surges beside my head just as the knot on my other hip pulls free.
The swimsuit bottoms fall off, and I reach for them, rolling through the water and grabbing at nothing. What the hell?
I feel him before I see him. His hands sliding up the backs of my thighs. His hair brushing between my legs. Then his mouth, his lips, his exhale covering my pussy. I moan through the regulator, making it vibrate.
Floating face up between my thighs with his legs behind me, he grips my hips and licks me with vicious strokes. My spine bows, and I suck harder on the apparatus. Sweet lord, it feels so good I’m going to use up all my air.
The scuba mask encloses his eyes and nose, preventing water from entering those parts of his face. But he removed the regulator from his mouth.
He’s holding his breath. For how long?
Panic rises amid the swelling pleasure. But I push it down, reminding myself he’s trained for this. He probably endured all sorts of inhumane drills that forced him to go without air for extended periods.
My fingers tangle in the silken strands of his hair as I grind against his mouth, weightless and drifting. I take care not to bump his face mask while the hands on my hips hold me in place.
I don’t think I can come like this. I’m too worried about sinking or shooting to the surface. Not to mention the fact that he still hasn’t taken a breath. It feels unbelievably sinful, though. Without a doubt, the best sexual experience I’ve ever had.
He curls his tongue inside me, his lips sucking with delicious pressure while tingling my flesh with each exhalation of air.
When he finally moves his mouth to take a breath from the apparatus, he releases a barrage of bubbles that caress and slide along my skin on the way to the surface. Fucking amazing.
He swims through the V of my legs and skims up the front of my body. A fold of white material peeks out of his vest. My swimsuit bottoms.
I bet he planned every detail of this date. The easy removal of a string bikini. The rubber piece in my mouth, preventing my protests. And the exquisite seduction of naked, tangled bodies underwater.
The regulator conceals his expression, but the hunger in his eyes burns behind the mask. It’s the same hunger that rages through my blood and trembles my insides.
I’m in trouble. I know this as soon as his hands fall to the buckles on my BCD vest. He unlatches it and slides it off my arms, taking the tank with it. Alarm spikes through me, widening my eyes. He’s taking my air!
He taps my jaw and shakes his head, telling me not to panic.
After a few steady breaths, I rest my trust on his shoulders. And my hands. There’s no way I’m letting go.
My vest tries to sail to the surface, but he holds onto it. His other hand unhooks the emergency regulator from his vest—every diver has a backup. I understand his intentions when he holds it up to my face.
He wants me to swap mouthpieces and breathe from his tank. If we were a hundred-feet deep in the ocean, I might’ve hesitated. But we’re in a pool, and he won’t let anything happen to me. Worst case, I’ll hold my breath and swim the fifteen feet to the surface.
I open my mouth and hold my breath as my regulator slips free. He removes his own, and we float toward each other instinctively, our mouths colliding in a wickedly hard kiss. He angles to deepen it, but I don’t know how to engage my tongue without swallowing water. I’m awkward as all hell, but the kiss? It’s fucking thrilling.
It’s not completely silent underwater. The pressure against the ears puts a different perspective on sound. Everything is louder, deeper, resounding in the chest. Like the flow of air through the tubes, the swish of the water around us, and the groans of our voices as our lips move together.
When I pull back, he slides his backup regulator between my lips and pops his own breather in his mouth. Somewhere above us, my tank and vest bob away.
Since we’re sharing an air cylinder, we’ll use up the oxygen in half the time. But I know that’s not the reason for the urgency in his eyes. He stares at me with ravenous need. To claim me. To fuck me. And he illustrates the direction of his thoughts by gliding his hands up my back and untying the strings on my bikini top.
This is happening. I’m going to have sex with Cole.
The moment I’m naked, Trace’s handsome scowl flashes through my mind. But I stop myself from analyzing and dreading and tripping into guilt. Instead, I focus on Bree’s words.
For once in your life, you’re going to put yourself first.
Cole swims around me, his biceps bunching with the slicing movements of his arms, his physique strong and chiseled beneath the vest and tank. I turn with him, physically connected by an air hose and emotionally attached to every beat of his heart.
We glide toward each other, our bodies sliding and tumbling together, our hands roaming, gripping, nails scratching across skin. His palms cover my breasts as I feather my fingers down the bumps of his abs, over the waistband of his dive shorts, and stroke the outline of his swollen cock.
I try to temper my breaths, but they come fast and hard with the fire roaring inside me. My nipples go taut, and my pussy throbs with the need to be filled by him.
He releases me and descends, sliding down my body until my thighs rest on his shoulders. Droplets of air fizzle upwards, blurring my view of him. What is he doing?
Something moves in the corner of my eye. I turn my neck just as his abandoned shorts waft by.
My pulse pounds through my veins. He’s naked. I wave away the effervescence of air and look down, trying to see him beneath me.
The water clears a millisecond before he slides up my chest and positions my legs around his waist.
I grip his shoulders, and the underside of his erection rubs hard and hot between my legs. Nothing separates us, not even doubt. I love him. I want him. If I don’t take him into my body right now, in this magical subaquatic moment, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
He studies me from behind his mask, communicating more with his eyes than he could with words. He loves me, too. And if I don’t let him fuck me, he might die from the bluest balls in the history of blue balls.
It’s been over four years.
Four fucking years since he’s had sex.
His fingers curl around my wrist, lifting my hand beside my face. Then he taps my palm. He wants me to give my consent, using the underwater hand signals he taught me.
Without hesitation, I shape my fingers into the universal sign for okay and give him a nod for good measure.
His lips part, and the regulator floats from his mouth. Tiny beads of air trickle from the curved-up corners of his mouth, and he yanks me tight against him. With an arm locked behind my back, he lines himself up with my center and slams me down on his cock.
I suck huge gulps of oxygen and clench my inner muscles around his thick girth, whimpering at the shocking bliss. Even more arresting is the sight of his head falling back on his shoulders, his eyes squeezing shut, the cords lengthening in his neck, and the spume of air escaping his clenched teeth.
But it makes my chest hurt when he’s not breathing from the tank. So I grab his regulator and press it against his lips. He pulls in a deep inhale, meets my eyes. Then he fucks me.
Kicking his hips into a voracious rhythm, he strokes his cock from tip to root, stretching me, using me, owning me, body and soul. If I were a screamer, I would’ve drowned already. As it is, I’m draining the air tank with every panting heave of my chest.
He pauses briefly to the check the gauges. As he shifts a leg backward, I realize he’s standing on the pool floor, using his strength or weight, maybe both, to keep us stable.
With a hand on the back of my head, he holds our face masks together and drives me down on his cock. I moan and writhe and lose all sense of time and space. Chained to the pleasure, I bask in the reunion, running my hands through his hair, riding the thrusts of his hips, sharing his air, and clinging to the powerful flex of his body.
Cole’s body.
My first love.
The connection feels every bit as intimate and real as the day I met him.
Too soon, he pauses again to check the gauges. His eyes tip toward the surface.
Time’s up.
We make a slow ascent, letting our lungs acclimate to the change in atmospheric pressure. He doesn’t pull out of me. But he doesn’t thrust, either, as he keeps us level and buoyant with adjustments to the valves on his BCD vest.
The moment our heads emerge above water, he removes my mask and tears off his own. Then he pins me with the full force of his eyes, his lungs panting, and his expression shocked, overwhelmed, consumed. He feels it, too. The invisible, soul-stirring bond that connects so deeply.
The kiss that follows is carnal and uncontrolled, full of teeth and animalistic desire. Still buried inside me, he thrusts inside me, but he doesn’t have leverage and keeps falling out. With a growl, he releases me to remove his weight belt. The vest and fins come off next, leaving us both completely naked and free of gear.
In the background, my playlist streams from my phone, echoing the sexy, thumping beats of Now Or Never by Halsey.
He raises a brow, followed by a cocky smirk. Then he’s on me, attacking my mouth, his tongue a starving whip of swooping, licking need. I rub and grind against him, stroking his cock and gripping his rock-hard ass. I can’t get enough. I want… I need…
“Right now.” I hold his face in my hands, eating at his mouth. “I need you.”
“I know, baby.” He kisses me hard and deep, groaning. “Fuck, I know.”
He pushes me against the wall of the pool, stroking his length along my clit. “I have to taste you again.”
I moan against his lips. “I want your cock, Cole.”
“Patience.” He grins, bites my lip, and clutches my waist.
With a powerful heave of strength, he lifts me out of the water, over his head, and perches me on the ledge of the pool. “Spread your legs.”
I lean back on my arms and expose myself to him, curling my feet around the concrete edge.
“Jesus.” He stares at my pussy and traces a finger around the opening. “Fucking perfect and pink and swollen. This view… Goddamn, you make me hard as fuck.”
With the water lapping around his shoulders and his chest pressed against the pool wall, he’s eye-level with the apex of my legs. He slides his arms beneath my thighs and slowly leans in, holding my eyes, licking his lips, and teasing us both.
When his mouth finally makes contact with my flesh, my butt flies off the ground.
“Ahhh, God!” I pant, trembling. “Don’t stop.”
He holds me down, buries his face, and devours me. Sucking and nibbling, rolling his tongue and adding his fingers, he ravages me without pause or mercy. His teeth pull on my piercing, and his hand thrusts in sync with his lashing tongue. I fall to my back, twisting and moaning beneath his assault. My arousal coats his lips and gathers inside me like an electric charge, humming and crackling and overrunning my nerve-endings.
“I’m not going to last.” My entire body clenches, gripped by sudden violent waves of ecstasy. “I’m coming. I’m coming. Don’t stop.”
He groans against my clit, shooting vibrations to my core and drawing out the orgasm. I sag on the ground, shaking beneath the flux of his stroking tongue, gasping, and pulling at his hair.
“Okay, okay.” I twitch away from his mouth, overstimulated and out of breath. “Damn, Cole. That was…awesome.”
He grips the concrete edge between my thighs and pushes up with his arms, lifting himself out. Water pours off his body, soaking my chest in warm ploppy drops. As he leans over me, the look on his face stops my heart.
His pupils are dilated, his teeth clenched, and his expression feral with predatory hunger. No words are exchanged. No tender kisses. Just the sharp sound of his hissing breath as he lowers on top of me, stabs his cock between my legs, and sinks to the root.
He snakes an arm beneath my hips and twists us around until I’m lying on the rubber mat, putting a softer surface against my back. As worked up and unhinged as he looks, I’m going to need it.
“This first time…” He lowers his head and bites my neck with a rumbling growl. “It’s going to be hard and quick. Hang on tight, baby.”
I fold my arms around his neck, splaying my fingers against the back of his head as I whisper at his ear, “I want it hard, Cole.”
With a deep groan, he slowly pulls out. “You’re my filthy little fuck doll.”
Then he thrusts, powerfully, ruthlessly, hammering his hips and pounding me into the mat. My hands slip from his hair with the impact, my insides jarring and squeezing against the pleasure-pain.
He’s a fucking machine, his skin soft and tight over steely muscle and endless stamina. But his unwavering eye contact is wholly human. Warm and hooded and dense with emotion, his gaze holds me close and pulls me deep.
We’re connected by something precious, something bigger than ourselves. It’s led us through a million miles of separation and death and unimaginable pain. Where it takes us next, I don’t know. I can only focus on the present and the unshakable love I feel for him.
Pushing up on his arms, he widens his legs and forces mine to spread around his thighs. His urgency is palpable, reverberating through his grunts and the erratic thrusts of his hips.
“I’m close.” He twists his fingers in my hair. “I want to see your eyes.”
I haven’t looked away, and I won’t. Clutching his neck with both hands, I hold our faces inches apart and tighten my inner muscles. “Come in me, Cole.”
He chokes, gasps. Then he comes long and hard, groaning, panting, and spilling into my body as love spills from his eyes.
Moments later, we lie on our sides in a tangle of exhaustion, touching, kissing, and catching our breaths. The electronic melody of Latch by Disclosure thrums from my phone, injecting the atmosphere with mellow sensuality.
“Have you done that before?” I burrow against his chest and wrap a leg over his hip.
“Hmm?” He stares at my mouth with hooded eyes.
“Scuba sex?”
“No.” His gaze lifts to mine. “But we’ll definitely be doing it again.”
“Tonight?” My voice squeaks.
His recovery rate is unparalleled, and since he’s gone without for so long, I’m certain it’ll be a sleepless night. I just hope I have the energy to keep up with him.
“Not tonight.” He touches my face and kisses me tenderly. “Physical activity during a dive impacts decompression safety. You need to take it easy for the rest of the night.” He skims a palm down my back and slaps a stinging whack against my ass. Then his lips twist impishly. “You can just lie there while I do all the work.”
By letting him into my body, I didn’t just open the door. I ripped it off the hinges. There’s no turning back now. He’ll fuck me as often as he can, in as many positions as possible, until neither of us can walk.
I expect him to roll on top of me and take me again immediately. But he doesn’t. He climbs to his feet, all hard and naked and fully erect, and dives into the pool, entering the water like an aerodynamic bullet.
We spend the next hour gathering and storing equipment, cleaning up the area, and changing into warm clothes. As he leads me into the dark parking lot behind the building, there’s a chill in the air that seeps beneath my coat and shivers my bones.
I bend over the saddle of his motorcycle to unhook our helmets, and his hands catch my wrists. He stands behind me, his groin pressed against my ass as he wrenches my arms behind my back.
“Cole?” My whisper echoes in the dark silence, and my pulse accelerates.
“I thought I could wait until we got home.” He leans over my bent position with his breath ragged and hot on my neck. “But I’m done waiting.”
My gasp shivers the air with white plumes, my chest rising and falling against the bike seat. The parking lot is empty, and we’re tucked in the shadows behind the shop, surrounded by tree cover. But it’s a commercial property. There would be some kind of security in place.
I turn my head, straining to scan the perimeter. “Cameras—”
“We’re out of view of the lens.” He folds my hands together against my tailbone, his voice gruff. “Lock your fingers. Yeah, like that. Now rest your weight on the seat.”
I relax my chest against the bike and close my eyes. He unclasps the button on my jeans and yanks the denim and panties to my thighs with an impatient tug. Then he fumbles with his own fly, and the sound of his zipper spikes a jolt of heat to my pussy.
There, in the hush of a dark parking lot, he caresses me, fingers me, and sinks into my body with a hissing groan. The strokes of his cock are unhurried, the hands on my skin firm yet soft with devotion.
He rides me to orgasm before finding his own release. Then he takes me home and fucks me again and again.
Hours later, I curl up against his warm body in my bed and sink into a satiated sleep.
It’s still dark outside when I wake. I roll to my back and squint in the pitch-black of my bedroom. Sliding an arm across the mattress, I reach for him only to find the space beside me cold and empty.
I lift on an elbow and glance at the clock. 3:12 AM.
Where did he go?
As I shift toward the edge of the bed, my attention catches on the shadow in the corner of the room.
“Cole?”
The dark outline of his head lifts. I can’t see his eyes, but I can make out his slumped posture where he sits on the floor with his arms resting on his bent knees.
“What’s wrong?” I crawl across the mattress, closing the distance.
His inky eyes hold mine for an elusive moment before he rests his head back against the wall and stares at the ceiling.
Dread slithers up my spine. I slide off the bed and kneel beside him.
“Hey.” I trail my fingers along the tense muscles in his face. “Talk to me.”
His nostrils widen with a heavy inhale, and he clasps his hands in front of him, pressing his palms together, fidgeting. Then he finds my gaze in the dark.
“I’m just…” A swallow bounces in his throat. “I’m dealing with some shit in my head.”
I run a hand through his hair, my whisper shaking with nerves. “Like what? Why do you look so scared?”
He releases a sharp breath. “I’m terrified that one day I’m going to watch you walk away with the one who stole my dance.” His eyes cut away before shifting back. “You won’t even glance back at me, because you’ll be so absorbed by the life he gives you. A stable future, your career, his philanthropy. And the breathtaking smile on your face… I won’t be the one giving you that, either. That’s when I’ll know, when I’ll really truly know just how badly I fucked up the best thing I ever had.”
“You didn’t fuck anything up.”
“I left you!” He leaps to his feet, knocking into the dresser in his distress. “I deserted you, chasing some bullshit career—”
“It wasn’t bullshit.” My heart hammers as I stand to face him. “It meant something to you.”
“You meant more. Then and now. But that fucking realization is too little, too late.”
“It’s not—” Uncertainty fists my throat, choking my words. “You’re not too late.”
“Then marry me. Tomorrow. Be my life, Danni.”
My breaths grow shallow and panicky, and my eyes burn with moisture. I want to say yes. I want to scream it, because I can’t bear the pain contorting his face.
You’re trying to determine who will be less heartbroken.
“Cole, I…” I press a hand against my mouth, silencing the tears in my voice.
“Dammit.” He rushes toward me and envelopes me in a constricting embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m not pushing you. I’m just…”
“Scared.”
“Yeah.” He kisses my head, my temple, then my lips. “I’m afraid to close my eyes. Afraid that when I open them, you’ll be gone.”
“I’m here.” I press my mouth to the corner of his. “I’ll be here when you wake. I promise.”
“Okay.” He nods, and nods again, as if assuring himself.
With my hand in his, I guide him back into bed and pull the blankets around us. Eventually, his chest relaxes against my back, and his breaths even out. Only then do I let myself fall back asleep.
Just as I slip out of awareness, his hand clenches around mine, snapping my eyes open in the dark.
“You have my heart,” he whispers against my nape. “Please don’t hurt me.”