Our eyes locked, and the tension between us snapped like a taut rubber band. Then, in a swift movement, he backed me against the wall of the pool, his hands gripping my waist with a possessive strength. “You’re playing dangerous,” he murmured, his breath warm against my neck.
“Just giving them a show,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
His fingers trailed down to my thighs, lifting me effortlessly until my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. A gasp escaped me as I felt his body against mine, my arms curling around his neck without a second thought.
And then, he kissed me.
It was anything but gentle-raw, claiming, and utterly unrestrained.
His mouth crushed against mine, his tongue exploring me as if he were trying to memorize every inch. My fingers tangled in his hair, and I arched into him, surrendering to the moment.
If he kissed me any harder, I feared I would forget we were merely pretending.
A soft moan slipped from my lips, betraying the intensity of the moment.
Behind us, Chloe scoffed loudly, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. “Are you serious right now?”
Roman didn’t even flinch, his focus entirely on me.
I knew he felt it-the way my body responded to him, how my skin tingled where it pressed against his, how his own body reacted beneath the water’s surface.
Chloe’s voice dripped with disdain from the edge of the pool. “Well, that was disgusting. Get a fucking room. There’s a kid here.”
With that, she turned on her heel and stormed away, clearly irked that the attention had shifted from her to us.
It reminded me of high school when she had slept with Declan, the very guy I had harbored a crush on, all because I had made cheer captain and she hadn’t.
If things didn’t go Chloe’s way, she was more than willing to carve her own path.
Lizzie, however, was all smiles as she lifted her phone, grinning from ear to ear. “So fucking hot,” she gushed. “I’m posting this everywhere!”
Roman broke the kiss, breathless and flushed, his forehead resting against mine. “I need a minute,” he muttered, stepping back. “Or I’ll embarrass myself in front of your whole damn family.”
“Am I making you hot, Mr. Blackwood?” I teased, my voice taking on a husky edge.
He shot me a warning look, one that sent a thrill through me. “Don’t push it, Sav.”
With a gentle motion, he set me down, his jaw tight and body tense. He shot me one last glance-his eyes a mix of conflict, as if he were torn between running away and coming back for more-before he climbed out of the pool, a towel wrapped around his waist, frustration evident in his gait.
“I’m gonna need cold water and a therapist after that,” he muttered, walking away.
That left me with Dean.
Dean swam lazily towards me, a cocky grin plastered on his face.
“Well, well, well. That was quite a show,” he remarked, his tone dripping with mockery.
I didn’t respond, my pulse still racing-not because of Dean, but because of what had just transpired with Roman. The kiss, the raw chemistry-it was all consuming.
I wasn’t supposed to feel this way.
Turning to Dean cautiously, my heart still thundering in my chest, I shot him a wary look. “Still a creep, I see.”
He floated closer, resting his elbow on the edge of the pool, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, he’s not the only one with eyes here, Savannah.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes.
Dean smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “And I don’t walk away when things get heated.”
“Yeah, I remember. You run,” I shot back, my tone sharp.
My retort seemed to ignite something in him, and he grinned like a Cheshire cat, his gaze traveling down my body before lingering at my breasts.
“I’ve missed you, Sav. Your fire. Your sharp replies.” He licked his lips, an unmistakable glint in his eye. “Roman’s one lucky bastard.”
“Because I’ve got tits?” I countered, raising an eyebrow.
His smirk faltered. “You’re still mad at me for what happened years ago? Is that what this is all about?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said, turning away to hide my irritation.
“If you’re still mad over what happened years ago, how come you’re pushing forward with your engagement?” he pressed, his voice dipping into a more serious tone.
I paused mid-stroke, his words sinking in.
“Do I smell a little revenge game? Is that what this is?” he added, a teasing lilt in his voice.
I laughed, a sharp, loud sound that echoed around the pool. “You are one cocky bastard, aren’t you? You think my world revolves around you?”
He lifted an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes, but I pressed on.
“You think I’d orchestrate some elaborate scheme just to get you back? To make you suddenly realize you belong with me? You really think you’re that special?”
Dean straightened slightly, his demeanor shifting. “I know I am. You chased me for years before we finally dated. And now, I’m supposed to believe that you’d just smile and raise a toast at my wedding to your sister? Come on, Sav, I know you better than that.”
“Your dick’s not made of gold, Dean. Get over yourself,” I retorted, rolling my eyes once more.
He leaned in, his eyes hungry with curiosity. “You kiss him like you’re trying to forget someone. I just wonder if that someone’s me.”
The arrogance of him was infuriating.
He leaned forward, eagerly awaiting my reaction, as if my response could validate whatever narcissistic theory he had concocted in his mind.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.