“I mean over the guardianship case,” said Lucas. “We have to shut it down.”
It took a second for his words to sink in. And when they did, Devin’s heart plummeted.
She didn’t know why she was disappointed. She shouldn’t have even been surprised. “Is this some trumped-up scare tactic to get me to drop the guardianship case?”
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Has Steve really found something in the will?”
“Devin—”
“I don’t believe you.” Why, oh, why did she keep letting her guard down? What was the matter with her?
“Believe me,” Lucas stated, voice hard as steel, “Steve has found something. And if you and I duke it out in court, Amelia will be the loser. Your testimony, misguided as it is, will play right into his hands.”
“I am not giving up on guardianship of Amelia.” She flattened herself against the pool wall, hands sloshing through the tepid water as she stepped sideways toward the ladder. “This conversation is over.”
He reached out and gasped her wet arm. “I’m not asking you to give up on guardianship, Devin. I’m asking you to buy us time for Amelia’s sake.”
She shook off his hold, fighting the tingle that was left behind from his fingertips. “You’ve never done a single thing for Amelia’s sake.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.” She rubbed the arm where he’d touched her, fighting hard to ignore his closeness, the darkness around them, the cool water lapping against her bare skin.
“You won’t even listen,” he accused.
“I’ve been listening plenty. All I do is listen to you. And I give you the benefit of the doubt, over and over—”
“Ha!” he scoffed.
“And I make stupid decisions.”
He moved in. “And you don’t think I do? I make the stupidest decisions in the world when it comes to you.” His body brushed up against hers, thigh-to-thigh, belly-to-belly.
“Lucas,” she gasped, reacting instantly to his touch.
Her skin flushed hot, her nipples beaded, while raw desired pooled in the base of her belly.
In slow motion, he tipped his head, and she held her breath, waiting for his lips.
The peach-colored fabric for Devin’s bra had gone translucent in the water, the image dancing through Lucas’s brain. Her nipples were hard, and the filmy fabric revealed every nuance of her gorgeous breasts. Her face was red, her full lips parted.
With steely determination, he kept himself from completing the kiss. Instead, he slid his fingertips along her slick arm and rounded her shoulder, skimming his way to the curve of her neck.
Her pupils dilated, and her breath came in small gasps. He knew he was playing with fire.
The ripples from the water lapped between them. His hand slid around to the nape of her neck, fingers inching into her hairline as he urged her closer still.
“I can’t trust you,” she told him, even as she tipped her chin and canted her face to the right angle.
“I know,” he responded softly, the words more a caress than part of a coherent conversation. But he understood her position. He didn’t much care about it at this exact moment, but he understood it.
“And you can’t trust me,” she breathed, her words and her body giving him mixed messages.
He shifted so that their bare thighs brushed together. “I know that, too,” he answered with honesty.
He gave in and brushed his lips against hers in a tender, painfully brief kiss. It was more a question than a statement. If she was going to back off, he needed her to do it now… right now.
Instead, her fingertips fluttered across his bare chest, sending spikes of desire deep into his belly.
“Stalemate all over again,” she murmured.
“Story of our lives.” And he kissed her harder, parting his lips, sliding his free hand around the base of her spine, dragging her into the cradle of his thighs, nothing but the thinnest silk separating her heat from his need.
“This won’t—” The rest of her words were lost on a gasp, even as her arms twined around his neck, her plump breasts pressing against his skin, her hard nipples burning him like a brand.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, while one hand smoothed her hair, caressed her neck, her cheek, brushed across her tiny ear. She was so perfect, so delectable, he couldn’t kiss her enough, couldn’t touch her enough, couldn’t hold her tightly enough.
Her palms ran over his shoulders, sliding across his slick, wet skin, tracing the curve of his biceps, searing a train of heat wherever they went. He felt his muscles bunch to steel. Every inch of his body hardened, and his tunnel vision narrowed to Devin.
He kneaded the small of her back, slipping his fingertips under the elastic of her peach panties. The slippery sensations of skin, silk and water brought a groan from deep in his throat.
Her tongue answered his, and her hands grasped his shoulders, small fingers digging erotically into his tightening muscles. He cradled her bottom, lifting her easily, pulling her against him as she bobbed in the cool water. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and his body reflexively arched against hers. He cursed the fabric separating them.
She moaned his name, and he felt himself move to the ragged edge of control.
“Not here,” he managed to say, but he kissed her longer and harder and deeper.
“Then—”
His hand closed over her pert breast, and she gasped out loud.
The stairs were only a few feet away. He could do this. He moved toward them.
Without breaking the kiss, he mounted the short staircase in the shallow end of the pool. He carried her across the deck, past the towel rack, snagging his running shorts before taking her into the dark warm depths and privacy of the pool house.
She drew back, blinking her glazed eyes before glancing at the daybed in the small, dimly lit room. She seemed to hesitate. “This is a bad—”
He strummed the pad of his thumb across her swollen nipple, and she sucked in a breath. Her thighs convulsively tightened around him, and he felt a shot of raw lust cascade through his body.
He already knew this was a bad idea. It was a terribly stupid, reckless idea. But he was far past caring.
He captured her mouth with his, kissing her deeper still. His hands slid over her satiny skin. He inhaled her scent, tasted the sweetness of her mouth, groaned in near ecstasy when her small hands stroked from his chest to his waist and below.
He sat back on the daybed, flicked the clasp of her bra, then tossed the delicate garment aside.
“You are gorgeous,” he groaned, caressing her breasts all over again.
She tipped her head back, her eyes going shut, the apex of her body pressed tight against him. He rotated his pelvis, savoring the sensation. Her hands clasped his thighs, each fingertip a pinpoint of sensation.
He feathered a touch along her inner thigh, traced the edge of her filmy panties, slipping inside until she gasped and squirmed against him.
He caught her moan in a hot, deep kiss, while he stripped off his boxers, groping in his running shorts for the condom in the pocket.