Page 29 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart (Houston Baddies #3)

“Eek!” I yelp, my arms instinctively looping around his neck as my body presses flush against his chest. The muscles beneath of his pecs are hard and unyielding, and I feel every delicious ridge and line against my skin…

“Turner!” I squirm against his chest, but his arms are like steel bands, locking me in place. The smirk on his face is pure wickedness, his eyes glinting with a devilish delight that makes my heart stutter.

Paul’s face is a twisted mix of shock and fury, his cheeks flushed red. “What the fuck, man? Seriously? ”

“Seriously,” Turner says, not even sparing Paul a glance. His attention is all on me, his grin widening as he adjusts his grip, his forearms flexing beneath my thighs. “You snooze, you lose.”

Cash’s whistle is sheer delight, cackling “ Aw , shit! Turner’s about to baptize her!”

Paul scowls, crossing his arms, his jaw tight.

“Turner, I swear to god— don’t you dare !” I gasp indignantly, my nails digging into his shoulders as he steps closer to the edge of the pool. The blue water shimmers, sparkly and clear, and the drop into the deep end looks a whole lot higher from his arms.

“Too late,” Turner says, voice dark and playful, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending a shiver racing down my spine. “You’re going down with me.”

Then he bends his knees and leaps.

The world drops out beneath me, the wind rushing past as we plunge into the pool. I scream, the sound swallowed by the water as we crash beneath the surface in a massive, bone-rattling splash.

The water envelops us—cold and sharp—bubbles swirling around us as we sink to the bottom, Turner’s arms still wrapped around me, his chest firm against mine, his legs kicking to bring us back to the surface.

We break through, gasping for air, and I shove at his chest, sputtering. “Y-you ass hole!”

“You love my asshole.” He laughs. “You love it.”

I slap at the water, sending a wave straight at his face.

His hands disappear beneath the water, finding my hips and tugging me closer. Our bodies collide, chest to chest, and his breath fans over my cheek, hot and heavy. “You do, don’t you, Poppy? You love it when I get a little rough.”

I do.

I love it so much.

I love the water beading, then dripping down his perfect chest.

I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep my cool, but his body is pressed so tight against mine that I can feel every hard, solid inch of him beneath the water.

But the yard is full of people.

Cash is shouting something obnoxious from the grill. A group of girls in bikinis are giggling by the shallow end. And Paul? Paul’s still sulking by the cooler, glaring daggers at Turner.

We bop in the water, both of us glistening, both of us devouring the sight of one another.

“You sore?” He smiles, eyes flickering to the waterline where my crotch bobs below.

I decide to be honest and nod. “So very.”

But in the best way.

“Do you want Doctor Turner to check it? Kiss it and make it better?”

I glance over at the people in our yard before answering. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he echoes, drifting closer, his big hands sliding around my waist beneath the water, pulling me flush against him.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.” Turner leans in, his nose grazing the shell of my ear, his breath hot and slow against my skin.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice a low, seductive drawl. “Or definitely?”

I clench my thighs around his hips, pressing closer, feeling every hard, thick inch of him beneath the water.

“Turner,” I warn. “People are watching.”

“So?” he says, his lips brushing against my jaw, not quite a kiss but close enough to make me tremble. “Maybe they need to see how well I take care of my roommate.”

I feel my eyes widen with surprise—he was never this… flirty before we slept together. Who is this man?!

His hands slide from my waist, to grip my ass beneath the water, holding me tight against his mouthwatering erection. “My tongue can make it better.”

My throat is dry, so all I can do is nod.

“Good girl,” he whispers, squeezing my butt cheeks, making me gasp. “You want me to do it here? In front of everyone.”

My cheeks flame, and I glance around the yard, but no one’s paying attention. Cash is still yammering away at the grill, Paul’s staring at his beer like it personally offended him, and the girls by the shallow end are snapping selfies and gossiping.

But still.

Anyone could see us …

“I am so hard right now.” Turner’s eyes are hooded, his lips curved into a wicked, shameless grin. “As soon as you walked outside, I got a boner. Hard as a fucking rock.”

So crude.

My cheeks flare, heat rushing up my neck, but I can’t look away. His eyes are locked onto mine, and that smirk—that infuriating, sexy-as-hell smirk—sends a fresh wave of heat pulsing through me.

“You’re such a pig,” I whisper, but it comes out breathless, needy and I reach below the water, my hand feeling between us, fingers grazing the bulge straining against his swim trunks.

My pulse pounds in my ears as I trace the thick, hard length of him, biting down on my bottom lip to keep from making a sound.

“Do that one more time—touch me like that again and I’m going to pull these bottoms aside and take you right here.”

My breath catches, an excited shiver running through me despite the warmth of the water. “You wouldn’t.”

His eyes flash open, dark and hungry. “Try me.”

I want to try him.

I want to see what he’ll do.

I back away, moving toward the side of the pool to the edge so we’re semi-shielded from the view of the people in our yard, my back hitting the cool tile. Turner follows, eyes locked on me like a predator stalking prey.

Like a shark.

Turner stops inches away, towering over me, the water lapping at his chest, droplets clinging to his skin. He braces one hand on the edge of the pool beside my head, caging me in. His other hand slides beneath the surface, drifting toward my hip, his fingers skimming the side of my bikini bottoms.

“I would give anything to see those tits right now,” he murmurs. “Think I won’t pull these tiny little bottoms aside and sink my fingers inside your pussy?”

My god.

I let my hands slide beneath the water, drifting down his chest, over the ridges of his abs, feeling every twitch, every shudder.

Turner’s breath catches, and his jaw clenches. “Poppy…”

I don’t stop.

I slip my hands into the waistband of his swim trunks…push them down his hips until his dick is free. Hard. Hot. Throbbing in my hand. I squeeze once, his entire body shudders, a guttural groan escaping his throat.

“Oh fuck,” he rasps, his hips jerking forward, grinding against me, his cock pressing thick and heavy against my stomach. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I look up at him through my lashes, a wicked smile spreading over my lips. “Being a good girl.”