The Bluffing Game by Verona Vale Read Free Book Online Page A

sublimely relaxing. I tipped onto my back and floated in the ocean, the small waves passing under me, lifting and lowering me. The only thing that could make the moment more perfect would be a strong, soft hand in mine, a hard-armed man floating beside me.
    Victor, too, was no underwear model; he didn’t have perfectly chiseled outlines of every muscle group, but when you spend enough time running and at the gym, you start to recognize men’s body types in more detail, and I liked his. He walked down the beach tall and thin but tightly toned, and the sight of him shirtless in his swimming briefs made the delightful wetness and warmth of the water almost painfully arousing, my nipples perking up and my pelvis full of heartbeat.
    He hadn’t bothered to bring a tote, just his fit body and a relaxed smile. I dropped my feet down to the sand and stood waist deep in the water, waiting for him to come out to me. His legs were so long that when he reached me, his swimsuit was still above water, and I got a good idea of what he was packing. Goddamn, had it been this long since I was nearly naked with a man?
    “You look good,” he said, eyeing my body and flashing those perfect teeth. He passed me and went into the deeper water. “I’m gonna swim for a minute,” he said. And then he dove under, his long back shining and shoulders flexing as he pulled himself out to sea. I followed slowly, treading water when it got deep, loosening my arms and legs, sinking in the wonderful wet heat up to my shoulders.
    After he had swum out far enough that I could only see his head between blue waves, he turned around and came back, big hands splashing, until he passed me once again, and stood where the water came to his navel. He was so adept in it he could have been a sea lion. His tan skin glistened and he rubbed the water from his lightly-bearded chin and lips, and I wanted him, badly I wanted him.
    I came over to him, trying not to rush things, and said, “Felt good?”
    “It’s great,” he said. “When I’m swimming, it clears my head. All I can think of is the next stroke.”
    “Running is like that for me,” I said.
    “You have good abs,” he said, flicking those pale blue eyes at me once. “You do sit-ups?”
    “Only when I’m feeling especially motivated,” I said. “But I do like feeling strong.”
    “You are strong,” he said. “I can tell just by looking. You look like a boxer. In a good way.”
    “And you look like a swimmer,” I said. “In a really good way.”
    He couldn’t help grinning, but his eyes kept roaming the horizon, like he was waiting for something.
    “You look like you’re still distracted,” I said. “Need to swim another lap?”
    “Maybe two or three,” he said. “Been a big day.”
    “I’ll race you,” I said.
    “What does the winner get?”
    “Winner gets to kiss the loser. Any place they want.”
    He looked a little nervous. “You mean that?”
    “Just a kiss.”
    “We said that was a bad idea.”
    I gave the side of his wet hip a small, firm squeeze. “Maybe this idea turned over a new leaf.”
    He smiled skeptically. “Are you really sure about this?”
    “I plan to win.”
    “Oh really?” The competition ignited in his eyes. “We’ll see.”
    “On three?”
    He smiled like a schoolboy. “One. Wait for it—three.”
    We dove headfirst, and he was strong, powerful, but I was smaller and narrower, and the water resisted me less. I turned at the place it seemed he had turned at before, and passed him immediately. He was close behind me, his hands slapping the water near my shoulders, and when we beached like two seals, we were neck and neck. We lay panting on the soaked sand, the water covering our legs and splashing between us.
    “What do you think?” he said between heaves. “Tie?”
    “I’d let that be a tie,” I said.
    “Who kisses first?”
    “Me.” I reached over and ran my hand up his side. His hot skin slick from the water slid smooth under my hand,