And so it went. They splashed, spluttered, raced, tackled, whooped, always with the same outcome: their bodies bumped together, wet skin sliding against skin, limbs entangling. Lingering kisses and fondling ensued.
During a moment of calm, Sarah wrapped her legs around him and gazed up at the star-freckled sky while he twirled her on the surface of the water. They were plunged in quiet. Chilly air puckering her exposed skin, she righted herself and looped her arms around his neck. He swam backward with her clinging to him. Movement in the dark snagged her attention, and she strained, trying to pick out what it was.
He turned his head, peering in the same direction. “What are you looking at, babe?”
“I thought I saw something. Probably just a prowling cat or a raccoon.”
“There are probably all kinds of critters out here every night we never see.”
A devilish gleam lit his eyes, and he was wrestling her again, trying to toss her through the air. She managed to kick his legs out from under him and escape his grasp, squealing as she scrabbled out of the pool. Shivering, she snatched the towels and raced up the stairs to the main deck and the hot tub, shouting, “Last one in the hot tub has to make dinner!”
Loud splashes and squishing sounded behind her, but she slipped into the hot bubbles before Quinn reached her. With a loud, satisfied “Ahhh,” she sank until the water touched her chin. “Much better.”
Grinning like a madman, he clambered in after her. Their horseplay continued but transformed into tongue-filled kisses, roaming hands, and bodies melding together.
“We should go inside,” he panted.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t think what I want to do to you is going to work in a hot tub. Besides, I need another condom.” Her nipples perked up.
Soon they were wrapped in towels, dashing into the warmth of the family room. Quinn locked the door behind them and guided Sarah to the couch, where he sat and pulled her on to his lap so she straddled him. The towels came off, a condom went on, and she impaled herself on him.
Heaven.
After adjusting to his girth, she began moving, her hands anchored on his shoulders. His eyes devoured her, and soon he was thrusting up into her. Their voices and breathing gathered speed. Sarah was lost in the feel of him deep inside her.
An outside light came on, flooding the deck in brightness. Quinn stilled, pulled her off him, and rose to investigate. Her bubble of bliss popped. He stood at the French door, stark naked, scanning. The memory of shattered glass cooled her, and she gathered a pillow to herself. “Do you see anything?”
“Nah. It was probably that cat or whatever you saw. It must have come up on the deck and triggered the motion sensor lights.” He tugged on the door handle. “All locked up.” Then he turned with a shrug and headed back to the couch. His swollen shaft seemed to be pointed right at her, and it bobbed as he walked. Her face must have given away her amusement and her appreciation because he glanced down at himself and gave her a wide, dimpled grin. “Heat-seeking missile.”
She toppled over in laughter, but humor was swallowed up in greedy kisses as he pushed her on her back. He lowered himself on top of her, his knee parting her legs. Then he entered her, slowly, and eased out. His feet found purchase against one end of the couch, and he surged back into her. And again, over and over, his pace steady and relentless. Wrapping her legs around his flexing hips, she met his powerful thrusts with all she had. He rocked her hard, shooting her beyond the stratosphere—twice—before reaching his own climax with a roar.
Chapter 36
I’ll Take Steak Over Fish Anytime
Quinn was sated, utterly wrung out, and he floated on a cloud of ecstasy. After their couch antics, they’d both been ravenous, and they scarfed down a throw-together meal of omelets, bacon, and pancakes.
Sarah wanted to wash off the chlorine, so Quinn went to retrieve the robes they had left poolside. He jogged downstairs to the gym, discovering he hadn’t locked this particular slider because he’d chased Sarah up the stairs to the hot tub. Once outside, he aimed for the lounge chair. It was empty. A quick spin revealed the other chairs were empty too.
Baffled, he smoothed the back of his head and scanned the perimeter of the pool. Nothing. As he was about to give up the search, something pale caught his eye. It lay motionless in the shadows, just beyond the edge of the glow cast by the pool lights. He headed toward it, slowing his steps the closer he got. A noise like a hiss stood his neck hairs on end.
It’s a cat. Calm the fuck down.
Another few steps, and the object came into view. He crouched and brushed his fingers across it. A pink robe. How had it wound up there? Picking it up, he peered into the dark, looking for the second robe, but the yard was plunged in inky blackness. A chill chattered along his spine, and he hustled back to the house, locking the gym slider behind him.
Walking into the master bedroom, he glimpsed the curve of Sarah’s peachy-pink back as she fiddled with the shower controls, and he forgot the robe in his hand.
When she saw him, she turned and smirked. “I guess I need a coach to show me how to operate this contraption.”
His eyes traveled over her body, and he gave her a wolfish grin. “I’m your man.”
Her eyes dipped to his hand. “What’s that?”
“Oh. Your robe. Couldn’t find mine.” He held it up to show her, and her eyes went as round as an owl’s. She let out a squeak. He craned his head
