Page 56 of The Sandbar saga

"I thought you were going swimming." He kept his gaze on her mouth.

She wet her lips with her tongue. "I was only sitting on the steps of the pool when you were gone, trying to get the last bit of sunshine for the day because my tan is fading."

His cock pulsed to full hardness. "You need to stop."

"Stop what?" Her bottom swayed one direction while her upper body another.

"Dancing like that around me." He gripped the arms of the chair and squeezed.

He only had so much control and going by her devilish gaze, she knew damn well what she was doing to him.

Her lower lip came out, and she danced away from him a few feet. "You need to lighten up, Dr. C. Life is for the living."

He stood before she could come back and trap him in the chair. Her throwback to calling him Dr. C noted, loud and clear.

When she was underage and living at St. Mary's, he had kept that formality to their relationship, knowing she needed to understand the doctor-patient relationship, but that all went to the wayside when she'd moved in.

She suddenly turned and grabbed both his hands, putting them on her hips. "Do what I do."

"I don't dance." He stood there, holding her hips.

"Ah." She grinned, rubbing against him. "That may be true, but you're dancing with me now."

He still wasn't dancing.

He cocked his brow. "Why don't we sit and talk."

"I don't want to." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

The length of her body pressed against him. Naturally and automatically, his body responded. She was young, innocent, and obviously pushing her sexuality and experimenting with the opposite sex.

It was natural for her age group to do what felt exciting and right. It was how everyone, at one point in their life, learned about themselves and what pleased them.

It wasn't him that she wanted. He was only convenient and safe for her to spread her wings. Sexual exploration was the initiation into adulthood and would shape, not only how she felt about herself, but about others.

She probably hadn't learned how to take those feelings and pleasure herself.

He swallowed hard. Imagining her hot, worked up, and struggling to orgasm. The surprise at the intensity shaking her very foundation, she would call his name.

"Race!" Katie laughed. "You're not even listening to me."

He set her away from him, extracting her arms from around him. "We need to stop."

Needing space, he walked toward the house to go back in. Maybe pour himself a couple of drinks to forget how she could easily make him forget his position in her life.

Her body collided with his back, and she wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Stay with me."

His head pounded. He turned and caught her upper arms, pinning her limbs to her side.

"This isn't appropriate." His gaze softened at the pinched look on her face. "If you want to talk, I'm here. But, no touching."

"You like it." She challenged him.

"I'm just a man, Katie." He nodded once. "That doesn't make it right to take advantage of what you're offering."

"Says who?" She hadn't gotten her way, and she was going to throw questions back at him to deflect.

Tears pooled in her eyes. His body vibrated. It wasn't upsetting her or the fact he'd made her cry—he'd done those things many times over the years in the name of helping her.