Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
I’d make sure the chemicals in the pool were right, level. I’d tend to the landscaping nearby, close enough that I could watch her swim, could see the water dripping off her body when she got out, when she laid out and let the sun dry her curvy-as-fuck body.
Just thinking about that had me getting hard, and I reached down and adjusted myself.
I walked around the side of the house and stepped onto the patio, the pool in front of me looking crystalline, clear. I walked over to where the electrical component was for the chemical distribution. I noticed Pyper right away but focused ahead, not wanting to seem obvious.
But I failed at shit like that pretty much all the time where she was concerned.
I could practically feel her just feet from me, this heavy presence that had it nearly impossible to focus on damn near anything else.
I couldn’t help myself as I glanced over my shoulder at where she lounged on one of the pool chairs. She must have just gotten out of the water, the droplets clinging to her form as she sunbathed. I swallowed roughly at the sight of her, the pull of desire so profound in me I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on the task at hand.
I let my gaze travel back up, taking in every inch of her. She laid back in the chair, one leg straight out, the other bent slightly. The back of the chair was poised at an angle, and she had her arms beside her, the fingers on one hand playing with the edge of her towel underneath her. Beneath a sunhat, Pyper wore big black sunglasses, ones that seemed far too large for her petite face.
I shouldn’t be staring at her. God, I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it.
And dammit all to hell, but that little red-and-white polka dot bikini was my fucking downfall as it hugged her form. Although she was tiny compared to me, her waist this tucked in little thing, her hips flaring out femininely, she was still all curves. Her ass…. I bit my bottom lip as I pictured it. Her ass was like a juicy fucking peach I wanted to sink my teeth into.
Her legs were long, her body toned. I knew she was in track all through high school, knew she continued to do it recreationally while in college.
Pyper shifted slightly, bringing the brim of her big sunhat down slightly, the shading over her face slightly obstructing my view of her. But I had her face memorized in my head. I had every single inch of her ingrained in my brain. I’d never forget what she looked like. My focus zeroed in on her chest, at the way the top of her bikini dipped low, how her breasts slightly spilled out from the top. She had a perfect handful, ones that would fit in my palm like they were made for me.
She was made only for me.
I continued to let my gaze travel down across the center of her body and stopped at the little indentation of her belly. Her stomach moved up and down slowly, evenly as she breathed, and all I could picture was her in the water, swimming toward the edge before climbing out, the entire scene in slow motion like it was some damn movie just for me.
I couldn’t contain my groan, and it was only after a suspended moment that I heard my name being called.
“Gio… Gio?”
The latter was said with a little more authority, and I blinked a few times and turned away from the sight of Pyper to look at my father, who stood just a few feet away. He had a pair of hedge trimmers in his hand, his white baseball cap pulled down over his head, his standard-issued St. James uniform—which consisted of a pair of khaki shorts and a white polo shirt—molded to his olive-skin-toned body.
“What?” I cleared my throat, because I heard how gravelly my voice was. It was laced with arousal, but I prayed like hell nobody realized that but me.
I was still crouched on my haunches by the chemical distribution component. There was no way I could move at the moment, no fucking way I could stand up. I had a raging hard-on from checking out Pyper.
My father stared at me for long seconds, his eyebrows pulled down low, because he was no doubt confused why I was so tense all of a sudden.
“You okay?” he asked, and I nodded a little too quickly.
And I was, as I curled my hands by my sides to stop them from shaking. “I’m good. I’m good.” I looked at the component again. “Just checking this out, making sure the levels are working properly.”
He didn’t say anything in response, and I glanced at him. He still watched me with skepticism, but after muttering something under his breath in Italian, he left to go back to working on the hedges he was trimming.