Wet: Part 2 by S. Jackson Rivera Read Free Book Online Page B

tell how fast my heart is beating.”
    “You kissed me at Ray’s, and it seemed quite convincing to me.”
    “I was just pretending to be grown up. I was making a point. You’re the one who turned it into . . . convincing .”
    “I wake up every morning with you all draped around me like your life depends on being close.”
    “I’m not conscious when I do that!” Her answers amused him.
    “Don’t you see?” Her voice raised a couple of octaves. “This isn’t going to work! No one will believe you could possibly be happy with a frigid, uptight freak like me.”
    “I don’t care what anyone thinks.”
    She took a step back, tried to put some space between them, but he stepped closer again.
    “Paul! The point of this whole idea has everything to do with what everyone thinks.”
    “Oh, yeah.” He pretended to scowl as if his plan had just collapsed. He feigned concern, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. “What shall we do?”
    It was her turn to smirk. “You tell me, smarty pants. You obviously have an idea, or you wouldn’t look so smug.”

    “I think we should practice .” He drawled his sometimes accent on the last word and put his hand over her butt, pulling her sharply against him. He leaned to within an inch of her face and studied her, waiting to see what she’d do.
    She tried to brave through it, closed her eyes. He squeezed, wrapped his other arm around her waist and stroked her back. She fidgeted for a second before she twisted sideways to him, as much as his strong hold allowed. He didn’t allow her to turn too far. Using her elbows, her forearms braced along his chest, she set her hands firmly on his shoulders to maintain some space, unwilling or unable to look him in the eye.
    “See? You can do this.”
    She stopped pressing away from him to laugh. “Yeah, looks like I can’t keep my hands off you, I’m wilting , right in your arms.”  “That reminds me—I have a questionnaire I need you to fill out.”
    They both laughed for a second, but as the merriment subsided, without thinking, one of his hands reached up and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before he leaned down and brushed her lips with his. She tensed and tried to duck away but seemed to regret it immediately. “Sorry, reflex.”
    “Relax. Look at me.” She finally met his gaze and he felt her ease in his arms, but the concern lingered in her eyes. “Remember your first dive? You practically tackled me on the shelf. I thought you were going to jump my bones, right there.”
    Her eyes grew wide, full of disbelief at his audacity. He used the distraction to bring her in even closer. “. . . And as we ascended, you clung to me so close—you couldn’t keep your hands off me. Can’t talk underwater . . . or I would’ve said, ‘Rhees, not now, I’m too busy saving your life’!”
    She didn’t seem to notice how intimately he played with her backside. She just gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing again, several times before she finally found her tongue.
    “It wasn’t like that and you know it. I was more afraid of dying than getting ra—” She cut herself off abruptly and looked down. 
    “Than getting what?” he asked quietly.
    She shook her head, refusing to look at him again. He made a thoughtful face and moved along.
    “Rhees, I’m holding you very close . . . taking liberties with your ass. He’s getting all hopeful and excited, but you haven’t flinched. You’re not tense, writhing, or screaming. You’ve even stopped pushing me away. Why is that?”
    “I don’t know. You—you’re flustrating me.” She shook her head again, still looking down.
    “Flustrating.” He narrowed his eyes to think before one of the corners of his mouth twitched up. “Let me guess. Flustered and frustrated. I like how you do that.”
    He gently weaved his fingers into her hair and pulled just enough to bring her face up to look at him so she couldn’t get away. He kiss-bombed her mouth. His tongue