In Over His Head

warned. 'You don't want to suck in a lungful of water.'

They spent the next fifteen minutes working on Josh's technique. He grasped the concept almost immediately, but Lexie had him repeat it over and over. As with anything else, swimming required practice, and without proper breathing you'd eventually sink like a rock. After a quarter hour she said, 'That's great, Josh.'

He waggled his brows. 'Told you I was a good breather. What's next?'

'Let's see what kind of kicker you are.'

He again performed that stretching, push-his-hair-back move while a slow, devastating smile, complete with killer dimple, eased across his wet face. 'Bring it on, Miss Lexie.'

Her pulse skipped a beat. Yikes. Potent. That's what this guy was. Like a shot of straight brandy. And that smile of his… holy cow. It generated enough heat to fry an egg. Her gaze riveted on his mouth… that lovely, yummy mouth. He was no doubt a great kisser.

Ack! Where had that thought come from? Left field somewhere. More like outer space. She shook her head to dislodge the alien who'd clearly taken up residence in her brain. Swimming. Think swimming. Not kissing. Swimming. As in stroke, stroke, stroke.

Instantly an image of his big hand stroking her naked body rose in her mind.

Okay, bad analogy.

Pressing her lips together, she moved toward the side of the pool to grab the two kickboards she'd left there, taking those few seconds to give herself another firm and much-needed pep talk. Get yourself together, you idiot. You're gawking at him like he's a rack of ribs and you're one step away from starvation. You've shared water-related activities with dozens of attractive men. Hell, you almost married one of them. So quit gawking and concentrate on your job.

Yeah, that's the ticket. Now she felt better. More in control. While she couldn't deny that this particular guy set all her senses on 'tingle,' she could ignore that. It wasn't as if swimming was a contact sport. It wasn't as if she had to touch him or anything.

Feeling much more in command of herself and her unruly hormones, she handed him one of the kick-boards and smiled. 'Let's get those legs going.'

After showing him how to hold the board, arms extended, they kicked slow, side-by-side laps. After the first few, Lexie showed him how to add his previous lesson by putting his face in the water and turning to breathe. Thirty minutes later she called a halt. Standing in the shallow end, she applauded her pupil.

'Great job, Josh. You'll be swimming like a fish by the end of the week.'

He stood, and she silently applauded herself, as well-for keeping her errant eyeballs fixed on his face.

'Well, I really appreciate your help.' He walked closer to her, stopping when only two feet separated them. Warmth seemed to radiate off his wet skin… or was that just her skin heating from the inside out? He looked big and solid and wet and delicious. And he was standing waaaay too close. 'Is that it for tonight?'

She bobbed her head in a jerky nod. 'Yes. But I'm very pleased, as you should be. You're a fast learner.'

'You're a good teacher.' He tunneled his fingers through his wet hair, and she bit down on the tip of her tongue to keep it from flopping out of her suddenly dry mouth at the rippling of all those lovely muscles. 'When's our next lesson? How about early tomorrow morning?'

He certainly was eager to learn. 'I'm afraid I'm already booked in the kid's camp for the two hours before my normal shift begins. What about tomorrow night at nine?'

'Tomorrow is Friday.'

'Yes. Do you have other plans?'

'No.' His gaze flickered downward and rested on her mouth for several seconds. That brief glance touched her like a heated caress, sending her pulse into double time. 'I'm just surprised that you don't.' He raised his gaze back to hers. 'Tomorrow is fine with me. What's on the agenda for the next lesson?'

Lexie swallowed and fought the sudden urge to wipe her overheated brow. When the heck had the temperature risen to three hundred degrees? 'Ah, I'll teach you how to float…' Her eyes widened and she gulped. Uh-oh. Floating involved touching. Lots of touching. His gorgeous, nearly naked body.

'You okay?'

No. I feel like I just backed into a furnace. 'I'm fine. We'll be covering, um, floating, then I'll teach you some basic strokes.'

Something heated and intense flared in his eyes and his gaze again dropped to her lips. Good grief, if he didn't stop looking at her like that, she was going to do something that would no doubt mortify her for the rest of her natural days. Such as blurt out a barrage of questions similar to, 'Are you married or otherwise unavailable? Are you as attracted to me as I am to you? Does your mouth taste as good as it looks?'

Reaching out, he touched a single, wet fingertip to her shoulder, then slowly dragged it down her arm. Goose bumps beaded her flesh, completely at odds with the inferno his feather-soft touch ignited.

'Teach me some basic strokes,' he murmured in a husky voice that tripled her pulse rate. 'That sounds very… educational. I'm looking forward to it.'

Without another word he nodded to her, then exited the pool. She tried to keep her eyeballs from staring at him, but her brain apparently wasn't capable of sending out the proper signals. Damn it, the man had barely touched her, yet he'd fried her circuits but good.

Her circuits took another jolt when he crouched to pick up his belongings. Holy cow. Those wet swim trunks clung to his backside in an exceptionally fine way. Hmm. Exactly where might that snakebite scar be, assuming he had one?

No sooner had that thought registered in her befuddled mind than he turned to face her. Holy double cow. Those wet swim trunks clung to his front side in an absolutely heart-stopping way. He blew that entire 'cold water causes penis shrinkage' theory literally out of the water.

He draped his towel over his shoulders, then nodded at her. 'Till tomorrow.' Before she could reply-which could well have taken a week since she'd apparently forgotten how to speak-he headed down the darkened path and, within seconds, disappeared from sight.

Lexie blew out a deep breath. Walking to the edge of the pool, she hoisted herself onto the edge. She wrapped her towel around her, then pulled her cell phone from her gym bag. A quick glance at her waterproof watch showed it was ten o'clock. Sort of late for a weeknight, but Darla would understand. This was an emergency.

An image of Josh Maynard's wet body flashed in her mind and she hastily punched in Darla's number.

No doubt about it, this was a full-scale, five-alarm emergency. The instant Darla answered, Lexie said, 'I think I've found my fling guy.'

Chapter 3

'Oh, he definitely sounds like your fling guy,' Darla said half an hour later over drinks at Mermaid's, a local bar. 'You need to have sex with him. As soon as possible.'

Lexie nearly spewed out a mouthful of margarita. Good grief, Darla certainly didn't mince words. Lexie managed to swallow, but the frozen drink went down the proverbial wrong pipe, starting up a coughing fit. While she gasped and sputtered, Darla calmly waggled two fingers at their waiter, indicating they wanted another round.

'Do I need to Heimlich you?' Darla asked, dragging a tortilla chip through the queso dip then popping the morsel into her mouth.

Lexie shook her head, coughed a few more times, then took a deep breath. Recovered, she glared across the table. 'No, the Heimlich isn't necessary. But-'

Darla cut off her words by raising her perfectly manicured hand in a stop motion. 'Let me guess,' Darla said. 'You agreed you need a fling. You want to have a fling. But now that there's actually a potential fling-worthy guy on your radar screen, you're nervous.'

Lexie could only stare. 'What are you, psychic?'

'No. Just been there, done that enough times to recognize the symptoms. You're wondering if your reaction to him was just some sort of hormonal aberration, and you're trying to mentally compile a list of reasons why you shouldn't have anything to do with him.'