You Really Got Me (Rock Star Romance #1) by Erika Kelly Read Free Book Online

the water. Sudden awareness wiped out the haze of exhaustion, and he leaned against the window, full-on staring. Derek’s sister did the backstroke, dark hair fanning out, breasts arching out of the water with each lift of an arm. The curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, the splash of water with each stroke of her feet . . . Christ, he hadn’t imagined he could get harder than he already was, but he fucking hurt.
    But, wait,
Emmie
? The prairie girl?
    Skinny dipping?
    —
    With her eyes closed, the sun burning her back, Emmie sliced her arms through the cool water. Turned out she loved skinny dipping so much, she’d swum every day this week. She loved the water rushing over her bare skin, loved the feeling of wantonness. She couldn’t say it aroused her—not, like, on fire,
I have to go have sex right now
—but it did make her feel aware of her body in a way she hadn’t been before. The day before she’d tried to touch herself, hoping the awareness would spark into arousal with the stroke of a finger, but she found the water washed away the slickness, so . . . nothing had really ignited.
    Today, she thought she might try touching herself on the chaise—if she could get past the uneasy feeling someone might be watching. She’d checked from every angle, and it seemed they had total privacy back here, but did she really want to take the chance? She kind of did.
    Flipping over, she pushed off the wall at the far end of the pool and drifted under the water, reveling in the muffled stillness. Maybe she’d wrap a towel around her, cover up a little, do it that way. But, no, that wouldn’t be as bold. And wasn’t that the whole point? To get wild, she had to be fearless, daring. How could she find her rapture if she held back?
    Popping her head out of the water to take a breath, she realized she’d reached the steps in the shallow end. She got out of the pool, pushing the hair off her face and swiping the droplets away from her mouth and nose.
    A figure at the edge of her peripheral vision sent fear spiking through her. Slater. He just stood there, like it was totally normal to see her naked. “Oh, my God.” In the split second that followed, her brain registered the distance to the towel on the chaise—too far—and without thinking she jumped back into the shallow end, holding her hands over her breasts. “What are you doing here?”
    “I live here.”
    “God, Slater. Go away.”
    But he just stood there. It was so odd to think of him as a rock star here at home, out of context, because he looked like such a frat boy. No, not just a frat boy. More like the Grand Poobah. He wasn’t just good looking. He was big—at least six-three—all sculpted muscles, and stunningly gorgeous. No tats, no piercings, no messy hair, no leather wristbands. He didn’t look anything like a rocker.
    “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
    He cocked his head. “I am? Why’s that?”
    “Stop it. God. Why would you
do
something like this?”
    He crouched at the side of the pool, giving her the full force of those penetrating blue-gray eyes. “Why didn’t he like the demo?”
    “Excuse me?”
    He didn’t answer, but his gaze bore into hers, insistent.
    “Could you please go back in the house?”
    “Just answer me. What reason did he give?” His dark hair, cropped close to his head, stuck up, making him look like he’d come from the salon and not from bed.
    “Back up, for God’s sake. What is your problem?” She held on to the rim of the pool, her body pressed to the wall so he couldn’t see anything—well, of course he’d already seen everything. Crap, had she shaved her bikini line? She’d thought she’d be alone. Her eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t think she’d shaved there.
    Just kill me now.
    He leaned slightly forward until his face was too close. Her heart pounded, and her muscles tightened. But then, she had to admit, she didn’t see a guy who was leering at her. Didn’t see a guy interested