Worth Everything (14 page)

“Why are you thinking of fighting Worth if they’re your family too?”

“I don’t want to fight any of them. Can’t you understand that?” Fresh tears started, and he felt like an ass. Felt like it was his fault she was crying, which he knew was irrational. Unable to stop himself, he knelt beside the chair and reached for her, drawing her into his arms. Pushed gently on the back of her head so she pressed her face into his neck, her tears wetting his skin.

He let her cry for long, quiet minutes. Held her there, propped against the chair, nearly toppling over a few times but he didn’t move.

Didn’t want to let her down. Everyone else had in her life lately and he didn’t want to be another name she added to her shit list.

She finally pulled away from him, her face red, her nose redder and her eyes still shiny. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Getting the front of my shirt wet?” He was trying for humor, however weak it might be, and his question earned a small smile from her.

“For falling apart on you. For making you pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“It’s all right.” He slipped his hand over her hair, wanting to soothe. Wanting to…he didn’t know. Let her know she was in capable hands? After his shitty childhood he’d vowed never to become dependent on someone. Or let someone else become dependent on him.

Funny how much he wanted Stasia to know she could count on him.

“You’ve had to deal with a lot more than originally proposed.”

He shrugged. “It happens. I’m used to thinking on my feet.” Should he tell her why? Share bits and pieces of his past so she understood him more clearly?

Would she even care?

“Of course, you are.” She shook her head, released a long, shuddering sigh. “My head hurts.”

“Let’s take a swim,” he suggested.

She reared back, her puzzled gaze meeting his. “What?”

“Just for a few minutes. You need to clear your mind. You’ve been crying and then what, you’ll go to bed? Your head will be killing you in the morning.” He was trying to be kind. Trying to take care of her and be a thoughtful person.

He wasn’t thinking of getting her naked and into that pool. Wasn’t thinking of getting himself naked and into that pool either. He was never one who thought with his dick, not normally. He was better than that, over that whole horn dog scene that had consumed him during his late teens and early twenties.

She sniffed. “I don’t know if I want to swim…”

“I’ll join you.”

Her gaze turned skeptical. “I bet you will.”

He chuckled. She saw right through him. “Nothing but swimming, I promise.”

“What if my mother is still out there?”

“I doubt that.” He released his hold on her and stood, went to the window that faced the terrace. The pool was lit, the water rippling from the faint breeze that stirred the air. No one was around. The terrace was abandoned. “She’s gone. No one’s out there.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on.” He smiled. Something he rarely did and he knew he’d shocked her. “I’m hot and tired and I know you are too. A quick swim will cool us off.”

Or heat them up. Not that he’d mention that.

“Fine.” She sighed, watching from where she sat as he stood. Seeing her like that, her head tossed back, her gaze imploring as she stared at him, sent a fresh wave of lust coursing through him.

His timing was bad. Sex had to be the very last thing she was thinking of. For whatever reason, it was forefront in his mind. He couldn’t avoid it if he wanted to. And it was all her fault. This woman, who made him feel. Who made him think, who sometimes irritated the ever livin’ crap out of him.

It made no sense. It made perfect sense.

“Let’s go.” He started toward the door, stopping when he realized she wasn’t following. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you going into the pool dressed like that?” She waved a hand at him, confusion written all over her face.

He glanced down at himself before meeting her gaze once more. He wore khakis and a black button-down, had dressed up somewhat to impress her mother. “Hadn’t planned on it.”

She let loose a strangled sound. “Aren’t you going to change into swim trunks?”

“Nah. I’m jumping in naked.” He laughed when he saw the shocked look on her face. “What? You did it last night.”

“Yeah, but…” She paused, as if she struggled with what to say next. “You expect me to jump naked into the pool with you?”

“If you want,” he said nonchalantly. “Or grab your swimsuit and put it on real quick.” If she chose to wear the bikini, he’d be disappointed. No matter how unbelievably hot she looked in those two scraps of fabric, he still would rather see Stasia wearing nothing at all.

Nibbling on her lower lip, she contemplated him, running her gaze over him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He wondered what the hell she saw.

Wondered if she liked what she saw.

“It’s probably not a good idea,” she finally said. “But I’m tired of worrying. Let’s go.” She started for the door, threw it open and walked past him.

Leaving Gavin with no choice but to follow.

Chapter Eleven

The night air was warm and heavy, a sultry breeze blowing but not cooling his heated skin. He was too amped up, too filled with barely restrained energy over what was going to happen tonight.

And something was most definitely going to happen. The tension brewing between them was too electric to deny.

Watching out of the corner of his eye, anticipation curled through him while he waited for Stasia to strip and join him. He’d wasted no time once they arrived poolside. Shucking his clothing, tossing them piece by piece on a nearby chair until he was completely naked, he’d jumped into the pool, thankful for the cool relief.

Not thankful she remained standing near the deep end, studying him. Oh, she’d pretended to avert her head when he exposed his more intimate parts, but he’d caught her staring. More than once.

“Are you coming in?” he asked, splashing water in her direction.

She stepped back, but a few droplets hit the hem of her skirt. “Stop it.”

“What? Afraid you’re going to get a little wet?” He smirked.

She sent him an irritated glare and he smiled in return. “You’re in a mood.”

Right. He was in a
good
mood when usually he was a scowling ass. “The water feels great. You should strip and join me.”

“I can’t with you watching me.” She twirled her finger in a circle. “Turn around.”

“Why? I’ve already seen it all.” And what a glorious sight it was.

She rested her hands on slim hips, a knockout in the simple, bright blue strapless dress she wore. It had given him fits all night, was giving him fits now, what with the way her breasts strained against the top, looking ready to burst free. “Turn. Around.”

Reluctantly, he did as she asked, his head cocked toward where she stood, desperate to hear the rustling of clothing as it slid off her body. He was rewarded for his efforts. Heard the
thunk
of her sandals hitting the concrete as she slipped them off her feet. The tug of her dress as she whipped it over her head, the oversized silver necklace she wore dropping back against her chest with a soft clank.

Feeling brave, he shot a quick glance over his shoulder, caught her standing there with a pair of snow-white panties on, the necklace gleaming against her tanned skin and…

Nothing else.

Withholding the groan that wanted to escape, he closed his eyes for a moment, straining for control. Those innocent-looking panties would be his downfall. More lace than cotton, they clung to her hips, dipping so low they barely covered her front. And when she turned to set her dress onto a nearby chair, the perfect globes of her pert ass were on full display.

His mouth watered. He almost hoped she’d jump in with the panties on, so they would get nice and wet and see-through and fuel some other fantasy he never knew he harbored for her.

“You’re staring.”

He jerked his gaze from her ass to find her watching him, a bemused expression on her face, her arms crossed in front of her chest, blocking his view. “Sorry.”

“You promised you wouldn’t look.”

“I couldn’t resist.”

She smiled, unhooked the necklace and tossed it on a table, where it landed with a loud clank. “I guess I can appreciate your honesty.” She hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties, started to take them off in front of him, but he stopped her with an emphatic, “
No
!”

Pausing, she wrinkled her brow in confusion. “What?”

“Keep them on,” he said, his voice quiet. Dark.

A flush swept over her cheeks and she pushed her hair off her shoulders, her breasts thrust forward, nipples hard, mouthwatering mounds of flesh he wanted to feast on. With a deftness that impressed him, she dove into the water, a quiet ripple the only indication she’d jumped in. He watched with unmitigated interest as she swam under the water across the length of the pool, finally popping up in the shallow end.

“Nice,” he called out.

Stasia turned, slicking her wet hair back from her face. “Thanks.”

“Feeling better?”

She nodded, her expression one of surprise. “Actually, I am.”

“Water feels good?”

“Definitely.” She swam toward him, stayed a safe distance away when she reached the middle of the pool where he stood. “Want to race?”

He raised a brow. “Seriously?”

She nodded as she treaded water, keeping herself chin deep. Smart move on her part. If he saw her half-naked, glistening-with-water body, he’d probably do something rash. Like grab her, finish what they’d started last night. “Scared?”

“Hell no.”

“Then let’s do it. Start at the shallow end, two laps, whoever touches the wall first wins.”

“Sounds good,” he said reluctantly, following her to the shallow end. She would smoke him. He’d never had any sort of formal lessons, had taught himself at the crappy, crowded public pool where he grew up. She, on the other hand, moved with an effortless grace, as if she’d been born to the water.

She was going to win. And they both knew it. If this little race helped her burn off some steam and aggression, then so be it.

“You know you’re going to lose, right?” she taunted him, a saucy smile curving her lush mouth, and he wanted to kiss her. Drown in her taste, feel that silky tongue of hers sliding against his. Make her forget all about races and blaming mothers and thoughtless fathers. Until all she could focus on was the two of them, together. Sliding inside her, feel her velvety hot wetness clutch him tight, fill her again and again until both of them were coming.

Damn.
He needed to focus. She already had the advantage and he didn’t need to give her any more.

“Who says I’m going to lose?” he tossed back.

The naughty smile grew to a full-blown grin and she clung to the edge of the pool, ready to sprint in front of him and most likely kick his ass. He went to where she waited, clung to the tiled edge of the pool much like she did, admiring the tiny droplets of water that clung to her skin like sparkly diamonds.

“I’m feeling competitive tonight,” she said.

“I can tell.” He liked it. Took her mind off her troubles, at least.

“Ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

She counted down from three, taking off with a burst of energy that was more than impressive. But he kept up, kept pace beside her, slicing his arms through the water, kicking his legs hard enough, he made waves throughout the pool. Always she was slightly ahead of him, a head’s length, then an arm’s length.

The final lap and she was still ahead, her feet kicking a froth of water that splashed him in the face. Did she do it on purpose? Amused, a little irritated, he wrapped his fingers around one delicate ankle and tugged, pulling her to him with one smooth motion.

Stasia struggled against him, pounded her curled fists on his chest, her legs striking out at his. He dodged her as best he could, hoping like hell she wouldn’t kick him in the groin, proving yet again what a feisty little thing she was. He wrapped his arms tight around her, tugging her into his body.

“Damn you! I was winning.” She struggled some more, her slippery body sliding against his, making his cock stir with interest. She felt good, too good, and he settled his hands on her ass, holding her against his stiffening cock.

“I forfeit. You are the clear winner,” he murmured, lowering his head so his face was in hers.

She looked up at him, blinking away water, her breath coming fast. Her hands rested on his chest, her thumbs stroking absently at his pecs and he gentled his grip on her backside, caressing her there. Pulling her in closer.

Closer.

“Where’s my prize?” she asked breathlessly, her voice pitched low.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, thrilling when she tilted her head, offering him better access. “Right here.” He ground his erection against her.

She laughed as she slid her hands up and down his chest. “You’re bad, Mr. Westmore. I didn’t know you had it in you.”