Page 14 of Jig's Last Dance
I’m caught in a tsunami, the waves crashing over me, and I collapse, opening my eyes when Jig’s head pops up from between my thighs.
His mouth curls in a devastating grin, and raising a brow, I pretend nonchalance, but my heart is pounding away in my chest. Like this, he’s even more beautiful, and I can’t help but be dazzled.
He kisses my stomach sweetly, and goosebumps rise on my skin.
“C’mon, let’s go swim,” he says, sitting up.
“Now?” I ask, bewildered. Frankly, a nap sounds good right about now.
“Yep, let’s go.” He holds out his hand to me. Reluctantly I take it, following him from the room.
“I don’t have a suit,” I say in a last-ditch effort to get out of this.
“Naked it is.”
I gaze at his back incredulously, hoping he’s kidding. That’s shut down when we exit through french doors and he removes his shorts. I admire his naked ass again until he jumps into the pool with a fierce yell. The sound makes me smile, and I approach cautiously.
“C’mon, sunshine. Get in,” he says with a playful waggle of his brows.
I glance around, taking in the luxury. The pool is huge, surrounded by fancy tile and plush loungers. I think I even spy a stereo system on the other side.
Jig grabs my leg. I glare down at him, but before I can protest, his lips stretch in a devilish smile, and I’m in the water.
His arms surround me when I emerge, and with a gasp, I slap his chest. He just laughs, tugging at my shirt, and I grab his hands, both of us struggling over the material before he wins, and the wet shirt goes sailing over his shoulder.
Immediately, his eyes feast on my bare tits, the nipples tight beads in the cool air before I cross my arms over my chest. “Creeper.”
Raising a brow, he pulls me into his arms. “A guy would have to be dead not to stare at tits.”
“Hm,” I mumble, my skin heating through at his touch. “Even small tits like mine, I guess.”
The sullen remark is as much for me as it is for him because I need to create distance before I lose my sanity. The Jig I’ve seen today is beautiful in a way I could never have imagined, and it’s messing with my soul.
His brows furrow, the loop dancing, before he seems to shrug it off mentally, and I release the breath I was holding, damning myself as I do. Without comment, he pulls me in tighter, and we float in the water, his head resting on my shoulder.
It’s perfectly peaceful, and we exist that way for a while until he speaks and my stomach sinks like a lead balloon. “Tell me about your parents.”
I stiffen, but he ignores me. And after a moment in which I search for something to say, he rumbles, “My sister died.”
“Oh,” I breathe, sagging against him.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice muffled against my skin.
“I’m sorry.”
He nods, his head firmly in my neck. And I know I shouldn’t ask because I’m opening myself up for the same questions, but he’s bared himself to me, and I can’t ignore that.
“How?”
His lips brush my skin as he says, “She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
I open my mouth to respond, although I don’t know what to say. Nothing anyone has ever said to me made a difference, but he beats me to it. “Mm, your skin is so soft.”
He kisses up my throat and I lean back when he licks the tendon, moaning, “Jig.”
“Mm,” he groans, sucking my skin between his teeth.
Tingles erupt in my core, and I wrap my legs around his waist, shivering when I feel his erection against my bare skin.