Page 104 of Turn Me On
After he shuts the door, he whips off the shades, looks me over, and heads straight to me, his lips a ruler, his eyes intense. He says nothing, just claims my mouth in a possessive kiss. My toes tingle. My knees wobble.
Dear God, this man owns my heart and body.
When he breaks the kiss, he says, “The scooter is because traffic sucks, and it’s better for the environment for short distances. It’s parked in my garage right now. No, I didn’t order delivery because that takes longer than it takes me on a scooter. And I wanted you to have something fresh to eat when you got up. I figured you couldn’t possibly sleep past eleven, and I was right. And yes, I have been to all the places on the wall in my bedroom.”
My smile reveals how ridiculously happy I am. “Thank you. I’m hungry.”
“I know,” he says.
Five minutes later, we’re sitting at the table by his pool, the sun reflecting off the water. I’m devouring the breakfast bowl he got for me—some açai thing with blueberries and papaya and all sorts of goodness. He ate earlier, while he worked.
I take the last bite, then moan in culinary pleasure. “Maddox, I have to tell you something.”
He leans back in the chair, looking cool and debonair in khaki shorts and a blue polo. His casual wear is so very him. But he seems relaxed too. I haven’t seen him that way before. I like it a lot.
“What do you want to tell me?” he asks.
“The herbed scallops from Ava’s were awful,” I admit, then frown.
He cracks up, but he doesn’t say I told you so, and I’m grateful for that. Instead, he says, “Want to go for a swim?”
“Fuck yes.”
He heads to the sliding glass door to go inside, but I don’t follow him. He shoots me a curious look.
I answer him by shimmying down my briefs. Starkers, I stroll along the pool deck, then jump into the deep end.
When I pop up, sliding a hand across my hair, he’s rolling his eyes.
“Do it,” I shout. “I know you’re not a skinny dipper, but just do it. Fucking do it,” I say, splashing in his direction as he strides to where I’m treading water.
Shaking his head in amusement, he asks, “How did you know I’m not a skinny dipper?”
I look up at him and shrug happily. “Same way I knew about the oat milk. C’mon. The water’s nice. You know you want to.”
He tugs at the hem of his shirt, then strips it from his body in one studly move. Oh, yeah.
I catcall, hooting. “Take it all off.”
With a smirk, he plays with the button on his shorts, teasing me, taunting me with a subtle shake of his hips.
“That’s right. Give me the full monty, handsome.”
Seconds later, he’s dropping his drawers. And I stop laughing. I’m catching my breath. My guy is such a stunner. All that smooth skin, and carved muscles, and big dick swinging free as he dives into the water, past me.
He glides underwater, in the buff, his lean frame cutting through the blue till he surfaces near the yellow raft in the shallow end. He hauls himself onto it—elegantly.
“Only you can get on a raft like James Bond,” I say, then freestyle over to him and park my elbows on the end of the raft, bobbing along with him near the edge. “I like your pool.”
“I like you in it,” he says, then shifts gears. “Are Gage and Eliza in town?”
I smile. “They are. They’re coming to batting practice and the game. Should be fun. It’s my first All-Star Game.”
He laughs, then says, “I know.” Then his expression turns serious. “I want to meet them. Take you all out.”
I tense, but I’m not worried for me. I’m worried for him. We haven’t discussed how this whole thing between us is going to work. He’s the one who faces the bigger risk, so I’ve been waiting for him to tell me. I’m on the other side of my first big deal with a sponsor. I’ve got Eliza’s college fund set up. I want to support him as he navigates what’s next. And now’s as good a time as any to figure it out. “I want that,” I say seriously, stretching a hand toward him, rubbing his calf. “So badly. But how is this going to work?”
I don’t say it, but he knows what I’m asking—when can we be seen together?