Page 267 of Trouble from Abroad
I roll on top of him, pin his wrists above his head, and kiss him all over. Nose, cheek, jaw. Quick, semi-annoying kisses that make him squirm and fake a struggle. They start out silly and fun, but when Preston laughs along, they somehow feel more intimate than anything we just did.
“Shower to clean,” I whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Then pool to relax.” Another kiss, light as air, and I roll away, immediately hating the distance.
I stand up, and cum runs down my thigh. I don’t take the next step. Not because I’m grossed out, but because… I want to feel it. Feel him. Dripping from me.
It’s weird. New. Primal. Why do I love it so much?
I don’t know. But now’s not the time to tame or dissect the feeling.
Grinning to myself, I make a dramatic exit toward the bathroom.
“This pussy is off-limits, Doctor,” I toss over my shoulder.
His laugh follows me in. “Good luck with that, Miss Thorne.”
* * *
It’s a quick shower. At least it’s supposed to be.
But Preston keeps watching me, eyes like hands, hands like magnets, and I find myself spinning toward the waterfall stream, using it as a shield. Not from nudity. But from… him.
His stare strips me. He’s peeling back the woman I’ve spent years building from duct tape and ambition. The one who walked out of a caravan park and never looked back.
When Preston studies me like that, so focused and steady, I don’t feel sexy. I feelseen. And that? That’s a whole new kind of naked. One I never learned how to pose for. It’s a kind of vulnerability I have never allowed myself to feel.
So I do what I always do when the world gets too sharp.I flash the smile that charmed rent tips out of drunk assholes and kept me afloat in glass towers full of boardroom sharks. I clear my throat and look back at him.
“What about that dip in the pool?”
He doesn’t fall for it.
“Don’t hide from me,” he pleads. “I’ll ask as many times as I have to.”
“Stop decoding my every blink, Pres.” I bump him with my hip. “We just met. Mystery’s part of the charm, right?”
He folds me into a bear-trap hug I pretend to resist but secretly crave. His nose finds the crook of my neck and stays. My body seems to think it belongs there.
“I want to know all of you, Mia. Everything that makes you who you are. Every piece you give me just makes me want more.”
So I kiss him. Not because I’m feeling romantic. But because if he keeps saying shit like that, I’ll start to believe it. And that would be worse than falling. It would mean I’ve landed.
“Can you take me to the pool now?”
“Have I ever denied you anything?”
I don’t even need to think about it. “No.”
“Then be a good girl and return the favor.”
He punctuates that with a playful slap on my ass, then vanishes to grab us towels, smug and perfectly naked and so unfair.
The hunger in his eyes while I dry off almost sends me diving back into the shower. A cold one this time.
Preston calls reception and orders fresh towels and robes for us. I head to my bag, and he watches me pull a swimsuit from it.
“What are you doing?” he asks, stopping me on my way back to the bathroom.
“Getting changed.”
