Page 71 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
He pours us each a glass at the side of the hot tub. Not speaking, we hang on the wall, side by side, sipping wine, watching the waves crash below us and the sun sink into the ocean. Half an hour must’ve passed as we were mesmerized. The bubbles stopped a little while ago.
“Your music ended. Do you want it back on?”
“Yes, please.”
He goes over to my phone.
“Just hit the button and it should play.”
The music starts again. It’s not my Yoga Music playlist. It’s my Sensual Massage playlist.
“I was curious what you have on this one. Do you mind?” he asks, getting back to his spot on the wall.Oh boy.
“No. It’s fine.”
“Do you listen to this while you write your sex scenes?”
The man is trying to kill me. “Sometimes.”
He dunks under the water, staying down for a few seconds. When he rises, he tucks himself in behind me, spreading his arms on either side of me again. He’s close, closer than before, pressing against me.
“This is nice,” he says, putting his hands on my waist, turning me to face him.
With the depth of the hot tub, I move my arms to rest on the wall again so I can hold myself up. As I adjust my body, I accidentally graze the length of his hardness with my pelvis. I inhale, strangling a moan.
“Sorry about that.” He spreads his legs, submerging his torso into the water, bringing his face level with mine. Those chocolate-brown eyes of his are hypnotic.
“It’s okay, I know any female body will do that to you. I know it has nothing to do with me.” I deadpan, wishing itwasme who elicited his body’s reaction. But I know better.
“No.” He heaves a breath as his nostrils flare. “Not every woman has this effect on me.” I can’t decipher if hurt or anger sits behind his dark eyes as they bore into me. He takes a deep inhale and releases it slowly. “So, I have an idea.”
“Yeah? What kind of idea.”
“A way for us to help each other.”
“Another deal?”
“No.”
“Help each other how?”
“You can teach me about the tenderness and sensuality of sex.” Rising above me, he tilts gently into me, pressing himself against me, causing me to gasp. “And I can teach you about the passion and heat.” He pauses, staring into my eyes. “For your research.”
My entire body ignites at the thought as an intense tingle zips between my legs. What is he even saying right now? If this was thirteen days ago, I’d say he’s pulling a playboy trick to get me to sleep with him. But, after everything that’s happened over the last week and a half, the intimate things we’ve shared with each other, and the earnestness brushed across his face, I think this is anything but a sleazy playboy maneuver.
He lowers his voice. “Will you? Teach me to be tender? Teach me how to make love, not just fuck? The way you write about it.”
“Nicco, there’s something you need to understand.”
His gaze searches my face, patiently waiting for my next words.
“You don’t love with your dick. You love with your heart.” I pause. “When you first love with your heart, you don’t have to figure out how to love with your body, it just happens.”
“What if,” he takes a long pause as he stares deep into my eyes, “my heart is empty?”
The ache in my soul consumes my body. The tiniest bit of moisture glosses his eyes. He blinks it away.
I shake my head gently, shifting my gaze between his eyes. Wrapping one arm around his neck, I place my other hand on his heart. “Your heart isn’t empty. You just need someone to help you open it.”
