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“You won’t,” he replies. When I glare in response, he just grins at me. “And if you do, I’ll swim down and catch you. Okay?”
Still, I hesitate, holding onto the wall of the shallow end.
But then his voice drops lower. “Do you trust me, Sinclair?” he asks. And what can I possibly say to that?
Because I do. Whatever’s between us, whatever attraction we’ve both been struggling to fight, beyond all that, I’ve come to trust him. His presence relaxes me, reassures me in a way that he has no right to do, but there it is. I trust him. Without answering aloud, I just take a deep breath, lower my head beneath the water, and kick off the wall.
The first few strokes are easy. It’s the same feeling as when I swim back and forth across the shallow end. I stretch out my arms when my head dips beneath the water, spreading them in the breast stroke, and then pop my head back up for air as I speed forward.
But then I look down. I notice the bottom of the pool dropping away beneath me, the light blue color turning darker, and I know I’m already past the point where my feet could touch the ground. I freeze mid-water, my legs kicking frantically to keep my head above the water as I stare down into that abyss.
“Sinclair.” Ankor’s voice is gentle, coaxing. He’s not going to rush me. But he’s not going to let me sit here treading water, either.
With one last nervous glance at the distant bottom, I resume swimming, in broad strokes. I lift my gaze to Ankor, and keep it fixed there, instead of on what’s below me.
The pool feels longer when I’m swimming across it than it did when I was walking around it up on dry land. But before I know it, I’m nearing the wall. Ankor doesn’t move, doesn’t reach out a hand to grab me. He lets me finish myself. I stretch my hands out the way I’ve seen him do in practice swims, and my palm goes flat against the tile wall of the deep end. Only then do I reach up to catch the edge, holding onto it, even as I let out a laugh of pleasure.
“You did it.” Ankor swims up to me, so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body through the water.
“I did it,” I agree, breathless, beaming with pleasure. My eyes latch onto his. I can’t stop smiling. Because I did it. I swam all the way out here, even when it got scary, even when I thought it’d be too much. I overcame my fear.
Because he was here. Because he talked me through it, and because I trusted him not to let me get hurt, no matter what happened.
“Ankor…” I don’t know when it happened, but there’s barely an inch between us. I lift my face to his, and I feel like I’m falling into those dark brown eyes of his, searching out the little flecks of gold near the center that I love so much.
“Sinclair,” he murmurs, and his breath ghosts across my lips. “You’re so damn brave.” He smiles at me. He smells like mint, and something else. That heady scent I remember in my dreams. The one I couldn’t get enough of. “You can do anything, you know that? You warrior.”
I grin, tempted to laugh, but I don’t. And I crave him. Suddenly and fiercely, I want to taste his mouth on mine, feel his body against me. Feeling bolder than I ever have thanks to that swim, I let go of the wall. Instead of hanging onto it, I reach out and wrap both arms around his neck.
My body slides into his under the water. I can feel his chest against mine, and the hard bulge of his cock against my belly. He still wants me. I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does. It sends a thrill of pleasure through my veins, to know that he craves me just as much as I crave him.
I raise my eyes to his and find him watching me, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other holding us both against the wall. It’s still early. There won’t be anyone else in the pool for a while yet, at least half an hour. I can’t resist. Not when he’s so close, his body so warm and strong and muscular against mine.
I tilt my face up and kiss him. Tentatively, softly at first, because I’m still hesitant. But that’s all it takes. His arm tightens around my waist, crushing my body against his, and his lips part mine, his tongue twining with mine as he deepens the kiss, claiming me as his once more.
He flips us so he has me pinned against the wall of the deep end, still holding us upright with one arm. I hold myself to him with both of mine, and arch my hips against him, feeling the press of his cock between us. I let out a faint groan against his mouth, and he kisses me harder, inhaling sharply in a way that sounds almost pained with want.
