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He holds me a whole arm’s length away in the water. “Enough.”

“Why?”

“I can’t think when you’re…”

“When I’m what, Griffin?” I ask as I wrap my hands around his arms, not taking my eyes from his. I’m challenging him. Openly.

Griffin’s jaw pops, and a moment later, he’s walking forward. I don’t even have time to react before he lifts me up onto the ledge, my ass landing on the flat rock with a wet slap.

He closes his eyes.

I laugh softly.

As Griffin moves away from me, I lean back on my extended arms. But I keep my legs open, my calves swirling in the water.

I should stop. But I don’t think he wants me to, not really. His eyes look ravenous as they rake down my body. I can practically see him warring with himself when his eyes drop between my legs, where everything is clearly visible.

I really,reallyenjoy fucking with this unfuckable man.

Finally he makes a sound of frustration and drops under the water.

I watch his shadow under the surface as he swims over the deepest part of the swimming hole.

Once he’s put enough distance between us, he says, “I can’t do this with you, Sasha.” He’s treading water. “I won’t be able to keep you safe if my head’s not in the right place.”

“What did I tell you about the ‘keeping you safe’ thing? It’s getting old.” I close my legs, pulling them up so my heels rest on the rock. “I don’t believe that, Griffin. I think you know how to think under duress. I think maybe you need to let off a little steam. I know I could.”

“I don’t get involved with clients. It gets messy.”

I get to my feet. “Is that all I am?” It’s true, Iamjust a client. Actually, I’m not even that. I’m some lost cause he’s taken under his wing. But he’s full of shit if he thinks that’s all we are. “You let all your clients sleep in your bed? You remember what they like on their toast?”

Griffin glowers.

“No one’s saying it would be anything long term.” I’m not sure why I’m pressing the issue when I’m not even sure I could handle fooling around with Griffin. Because it’s not just sexual attraction with him, is it? If we took how my body reacts to him out of the equation, I’d still want him to stay close to me, wouldn’t I?

That thought is sobering enough that it should make me want to stop trying to tease him into submission.

I reach for the towel and snap it out flat, laying it on the sunny part of the rock.

But my words carry on without me, part of the corporeal part of me that wants him so badly it does things like what I’m doing right now.

“What would happen if you just let yourself relax, Griffin Kelly? Just for a little while? Do you think the whole world would fall apart?”

When I peer over my shoulder, his face is just above the water. His scowl has turned to something darker. Hedoesthink that. He thinks he can control things so long as he’s got his wits about him.

I know I’ve probably gone too far. But so long as he really wants to do this thing for me—marry me to keep me safe—maybe I should make it my job to take some of his wits away. We’re safe here.

And I need a win.

I reach behind me, tugging at the string holding my bikini top on. When it falls loose, I pull the scrap of fabric off my body and drop it to the ground. Then I hike my already skimpy bottoms up so they wedge between my ass cheeks and make a show of getting down on my hands and knees, crawling onto the towel, then lowering slowly onto my stomach.

There’s a splash in the water behind me, and I have to fight to keep the smirk off my face. I don’t think he’ll bite, but at least I’ve riled him up.

For a moment, the only sound is the chirp of birds in the trees, the only sensation the warm rock under my towel and the sun on my mostly bare backside.

Then there’s another little splash—closer—and the soft slap of bare feet on rock.

My stomach flips. Will he really give in to me right here? It doesn’t seem like his style.