Page 18 of Savored Sins
As he gets closer, he spots me on the dock and waves an arm above his head in acknowledgment. I’m trying really hard to regain my composure—I willnothave him thinking I wasstaring, even though I totally was—but now he’s close enough that I can see the muscles of his thighs working as he runs, and it’s hopeless. He’s absolutely gorgeous.
Zeke slows to a stop on the bank next to the dock. He’s panting, and he stops for a moment to catch his breath, resting his palms on his thighs. He looks up at me, his lips parting into a grin and says a bit breathlessly, “Hey, hot stuff. Nice night, huh?”
I sip my wine, casting him a side glance. “Yep. Have a nice run?”
“Oh, yeah. Butgod, is it hotter than balls out here.”
With Zeke standing so close to me, it’s impossible not to notice the definition of his midsection—and I honest to god almost suck in my breath. His abs are like a freaking chocolate bar, like some kind of marble sculpture someone chiseled into and then polished over. And with the sweat still glistening on them…
“Yeah, it’s still pretty humid. New England, huh?”
Zeke doesn’t answer, just gazes at me for a moment. His eyes move to my magazine, and I see him squint, looking at the title. Then, shooting me his signature little smirk, he leans down to pull off his socks and shoes, strides past me across the dock, and dives into the lake in one smooth motion, running shorts and all.
When he surfaces, he tosses his dripping hair out of his eyes and surveys me with a grin. “It’s pretty nice in here. You coming in?”
I take another sip of my wine, trying my best to keep my face as unaffected as possible. The long sleek arc of his youthful body as he dove in just now was… impressive. And watching him tread water in front of me like some kind of playful little puppy is annoyingly endearing.
“No, thanks,” I say. “It’s, like, eight at night. I’m not going to get my suit on just to splash around in the water with you for five minutes.”
Suddenly, a shower of lake water hits me in the face and I sputter, spitting out my mouthful of wine. “Zeke! What the hell?”
“Come on, Miss Priss,” Zeke says, smirking. There’s water dripping into his eyes, and I can see his golden limbs rippling beneath the surface of the lake. “You don’t need a suit. Just strip down and get in here.”
My brows shoot up. “Are you for real right now?”
“Entirely. Here, I’ll even go first.” He pauses a moment, and I see him doing something under the water, although I can’t tell what. And then a sopping heap that I recognize as his underwear and running shorts whips through the air and lands at my feet. “There.”
Well, fuck.
My heart rate has officially skyrocketed.
I down the rest of my wine, hoping my cheeks aren’t burning. “If you think I’m going to stripnaked, in front of you?—”
“Oh, comeon, hot stuff,” Zeke says, laughing. “You can’t tell me you’ve never skinny-dipped before. You’ve got a wild side to you—you’ve just buried it a little bit, that’s all. Come on—I’ll turn around until you’re in the water.”
Dutifully, he turns and swims a bit further out, then calls, “Tell me when I can look.”
I sit there for a second, dumbfounded. The only sound is the slight evening breeze ruffling through the foliage overhead. Zeke’s not wrong. Ihaveskinny-dipped before. But that was high school Autumn, and now I’m… I’m…
You know what? Fuck it. I’m not high school Autumn anymore, but I’m still Autumn. I’m post-divorceAutumn, is what I am. And maybe post-divorce Autumn skinny dips. Whothe hell knows? Post-divorce Autumn can skinny dip if she damn well wants to.
Stripping off my shirt and jean shorts, I toss them onto the dock next to Zeke’s sopping clothes. As I stand there wearing nothing but a lacy bra and panties, my body feels like it’s suddenly gone electric. If I’m really going to do this, it’s now or never.
Taking a deep breath, I unhook my bra, step out of my panties, and drop both delicately onto the pile of clothes. Then, before I can think twice, I pad to the edge of the dock, curl my perfectly polished toes over the edge, and arc headfirst into the warm water of the lake below.
When I surface, my voice is quiet, but surprisingly steady. “You can look.”
Zeke swirls himself around to face me. He’s grinning, and his eyes stay—thankfully—fixed on my face as he treads water. “Nice of you to join me.”
I laugh, swimming out further from the dock, relishing the way the smooth, warm water glides over my bare skin. I can hear Zeke following behind. The sun’s setting behind the woods now, the pinks and purples of the summer sky melting through the trees. All around me, the surface of the lake shimmers with rippling, glistening light.
Zeke stops a few yards away from me, turns his face up to the darkening sky. There’s a part of me that wants him to look at me, for his eyes to travel down the pale, rippling form of my body beneath the water. And what—give some signal of approval? Some sign that he likes what he sees?
But he hasn’t yet. It’s enough for him that I’m here in the water. That I let down my own guard enough to indulge another side of myself. And I’m sort of glad about that—that he hasn’t ogled, or even so much as stolen a glance. But my heart’s stillpounding. We’re still out here naked together with no one else around, the water the only thing between us.
“It’s so beautiful out here,” Zeke says, breaking the silence. He’s still looking around in awe, like he can’t quite believe we’re here.
“It is,” I say. Aside from the hum of cicadas in the trees overhead and the chirp of the crickets, our voices are the only sounds. It’s strangely intimate, and I’m not sure what to say to him. At this moment, we feel like different people. “It’ll be nice for your pilot episode.”
