Page 28 of Slippery When Wet

“Daddy’s a smooth talker,” she joked and then turned a shade of red that had nothing with the sun she got but everything to do with what she’d called me. “Were you always such a smooth talker?” she quickly asked, obviously trying to pretend she hadn’t called me what she had.

If that was what she needed, I’d let her. For now.

“I’m not a smooth talker.”

“I don’t know about that,” she said softly.

Jesus. Part of me, a huge part of me, wanted to jump into the water and swim right over to her to have her in my arms. But the other part, the side that wanted to protect her, love her, worship her, be her daddy, stood his ground.

“I have a feeling you could sell ice to a penguin.” That was when she rewarded my patience.

Slowly, so fucking slowly, her hands dropped over her breasts. I ached to take those full plentiful globes into my own hands. Instead, they fisted in my pockets. Even from where I stood, I could make out the hard points of her nipples standing at attention, quietly begging for my attention.

Abby didn’t just tease herself.

The whole moment was a tease for the two of us.

The sweetest of tortures.

She pulled the material of her tank up. The skin she exposed was slightly paler than the rest of her, and fuck me, I was dying to see the tan lines of her body. To get up close and personal with them and trace them with my hands and then my mouth. By the time the tank was up and over her head, leaving her in nothing but a pretty, lacy bra, my tongue felt too fucking big for my mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, afraid to blink. My skin felt hot stretched out tight over my body, my dick aching against the waistband of my shorts.

“It’s hot,” she said softly. Those two words felt like a blanket of heat even though I was far from her.

“Very.” My voiced dropped as I soaked in the sight of her in those cute-as-fuck denim shorts and lace bra. The sheer material left nothing to the imagination, and it made me want to dress her in frilly pretty things while she bounced on my lap. Blood roared in my ears, making it hard to focus on anything but the arousal in my shorts.

“Abel?” My name on her lips snapped me out of my head.

“Hmm?” I mumbled, trying to remember what she could have said, but I was too distracted by how fucking sexy she looked standing there.

“I said the water looks good. Refreshing.”

“Delicious,” I hoarsely added, and I could have sworn my beauty rolled her eyes. Her hands rose like she was about to cover herself but then dropped to her sides like she’d changed her mind.

Good girl, I thought to myself.

Instead, she toed off her shoes and leaned over to take her socks off before stuffing them inside the high tops she’d been wearing. When she straightened, her hands moved to the front of her shorts, and it felt like the world stopped. My lungs seized along with my heart.

Gracefully, she undid her shorts and pulled them off, along with her panties. Her eyes moved from mine when she turned to set her discarded clothes on top of her shorts and then stood. Her ass was a thing of beauty.

Living, breathing art.

Not that I got to stare for long when she reached behind her and took her bra off, and when she turned, I knew.

Not that she was mine.

Even with how I tried to fight the attraction, I’d known she was mine the moment I’d first laid eyes on her.

No, in that moment, I knew that life, no matter what the hell I had been through, good times, tough ones, the close calls, even my knee giving out and taking me out of the military, had all been for a reason. Everything I had lived through was meant to bring me to where I was right then and there.

Across a pool from the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

And she was mine.

Forever.

I didn’t know how the hell I would pull it off, talk her into being mine for the rest of my life, but I knew I would do it. When I wanted something, I never let anything get in the way. My best friend, Dan, liked to joke that I had a Midas touch, but none of that shit mattered. Not the money or properties or my business. Hell, not even the restored 1969 Chevelle in my garage.