Page 60 of Everything She Wanted

I place my hands in his and he slowly guides me down until we are submerged up to our shoulders. My breaths are short and quick. It’s uncomfortably cold, but I feel the warmth of his words. The safety they invite me into.

He won’t let anything bad happen and I believe him.

Eventually it feels more manageable.

“See? It’s not that bad.”

I smile up at him. There’s so much that’s wrong about this, but as I do when I’m with him, I let myself enjoy the moment. It might not last, but it feels more real to me than anything in my life right now.

Our eyes don’t leave each others’ and he’s only inches away. My hands are still in his. It’s dark and still freezing and the only place I want to be.

He holds my hand tighter almost as if he senses that this fleeting moment is all we’ll ever have.

The arctic chill paired with the intensity of him is too much. I pull back and lift myself onto the edge of the pool, my feet dangling.

“I think I’m ready for the sauna.”

“Sure.”

“But you can use the hot tub if you’d like.” It’s a test and an invitation. What I’m inviting him into, I’m not sure.

“So, hot tub alone or the sauna with you.” He purses his lips and places his thumb and index finger on his chin. “Hmmm, let’s see...”

I make my way to the sauna before looking back.

“I won’t be offended if you choose the hot tub.”

“There is no reality where I’d choose a room that didn’t have you in it.”

I let his words pour over me like maple syrup, covering me in sticky sweetness that I want to lick off my fingers and maybe his.

This room emanates warmth, not just because of the hot coals steaming in the centre, but from the cedar wood panel benches and the backlit orange wall. It’s so comforting, it’s like walking into a warm hug, but with Nick next to me, it feels like a blazing hot inferno. I sit on the top bench in the corner of the room and Nick sits right beside me. So close that our thighs are touching even though the room is empty except for us.

I close my eyes and let the heat soothe me. The constant tension that lives in my shoulders unspools. My neck loosens and I stretch it side to side.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I feel no need to fill it. With him there’s no need to constantly justify myself or watch everything I say or do.

“Can I ask you something?” he says.

I open my eyes as he shifts to face me. He brings his thumb to my forehead, wiping away a bead of sweat. My body that was so relaxed a moment ago is suddenly on high alert. His touch an electric current.

“Do you ever think about the night we met and wonder...” He watches my face for my reaction. “What if?”

His eyes drop to my mouth and then up to my eyes again.

My heart thumps wildly and sweat drips down my chest. I bring my fingers to my throat and down in a caress as I ponder his words. He watches me as he waits for me to speak, like he can’t help but soak up the sight of me.

I swallow hard as I watch sweat trickle down his face, his shoulders, his chest, and lower. I need to know how he feels before I tell him how I do. “Do you?”

He takes my hand and brings it to his heart. It’s beating as fast as mine. “All the time.” He looks down at my hand on his chest and continues. “I think about what it would be like to be with you, to touch you, to...” he says slowly as if he’s testing the words on his tongue and relishing the sound of them.

There’s no echo, but every syllable resounds in my chest.

“To hold you.” He brings my fingers to his mouth. “To do so many things to you.”

My breath catches at his admission, but I’m starving for more than words. He lets go of my hand and reaches for my chin, pulling it toward him and I can’t stop the magnetic pull. His lips are on mine and the taste of him is salty, sweet, distinctly masculine, divinely him. Like all the most tantalizing things I’ve never let myself experience. His tongue finds mine and each stroke melts me down until I’m nothing but putty in his arms. He pulls me across his lap and I move without thinking. Only the thin layer of my bikini bottom and his swim shorts separate us. I press my chest into his as he lets out a soft growl, my softness meeting his hard ridges. All I want is to feel his solid strength holding me, like this, forever.

It’s too hot—from the heat of the sauna or him, I can’t tell—but I can’t pull away. I don’t want to. I want to stay suspended in this vortex—the only place where I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not, or that I want something I don’t.