Page 67 of The Quiet After The Fall

It’s empty today. Maybe the universe is throwing me a bone for my birthday.

Knox pulls in and parks a few spaces away, cuts his engine, and turns to look directly at me from the driver’s side window. I look away to hide my grin and reach for the bathing suit still in its plastic bag.

I know he’s watching. I can feel it, the way you can feel a change in air pressure before a storm.

I grab the hem of my dress and pull it over my head slowly. Did his breathing shift? Is he thinking about last night? I shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as I am.

I hook my thumbs into my underwear and slide them down, replacing them with the bikini bottoms, and feeling brave—or bad, I genuinely can’t tell which anymore—I turn to face him. I keep my eyes on my knees, but I know exactly where his are.

I reach back and unclip my bra, pull it down my arms, slow enough that he knows I’m toying with him, and toss it onto the passenger seat over the roses.

Cool air from the vents hits my bare skin and my nipples pull tight. I don’t know how much of that is the air conditioning and how much is knowing he hasn’t looked away once.

I wait. One second. Two. Then I lift my eyes to his.

He’s pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, and there’s nothing subtle about the way he’s eyeing me. His expression’s unguarded, no mask to be seen. He’s all heat and a little shock too.

I love that something so small can undo him this completely.

But the show’s over.

I reach for the halter top and tie it on, twist my hair into a bun, and slide my sandals back on like nothing happened at all.

I grab the bag with the rest of the stuff I bought and walk toward the water without checking if he’s following.

I don’t need to check. I can feel him.

The sand is warm under my feet, then cooler as I get closer to the waterline, and the whole time my skin is still buzzing from the cold air in the vents, or maybe from the way he looked at me. I press my lips together to keep from smiling.

There’s a nice, even spot a few feet from the water, so I drop my bag there and take out the sunscreen. A snap of the cap, and a thick line of sunscreen lands in my palm, more than I need.

I work it into my skin in long, slow strokes up my calf and around my thighs. One leg, then the other.

His footsteps sound closer, but I keep focus on my task.

My stomach comes next, then my arms, taking my time on my collarbone, my shoulders, tipping my head back to reach the side of my neck. Cool lotion against my overheated skin pulls a small breath out of me and when I glance up, he’s stopped a few feet away.

He’s looking everywhere but my face, and I’m doing the same to him.

My gaze pulls lower, focusing on the outline of his cock straining against his shorts. Something hot and satisfying curls low in my stomach at the sight of it. He doesn’t try to hide it. Doesn’t adjust himself or look away like he’s embarrassed. He just stands there and lets me see exactly what I’m doing to him.

I slip my hand with the last of the sunscreen along my side, dragging it low until I reach the elastic band. Rolling my lip, between my teeth, I slip just the tips of my fingers inside, lingering while he watches. Heat pools low in my belly.

His breath hitches. I hear it this time.

He thinks he’s got me. That I won’t be able to resist him. He’ll never know how right he is, but I’m great at pretending.

My hand drags up again, and I turn toward the water.

The lake stretches out as far as I can see, flat and quiet with patches of white from the sun. I walk straight in without hesitating, the cold biting at my ankles, my knees, my thighs, until I’m deep enough that the chill swallows the heat still sitting under my skin. I keep going until it hits my waist, then let myself sink under.

It feels incredible, exactly what I needed.

When I come up, I push loose strands of hair back and stand there for a second, breathing softly, letting the water settle around me.

Behind me, I hear movement—my plastic bag crinkling, a zipper, clothes rustling.

A smile breaks out across my face. There’s no reason to turn around. I know he’s following.