Page 18 of Gilded

LUKA

W hen Malia exits the house wearing that string bikini, I groan. I was hoping for the one-piece, but it wouldn’t matter. There’s no way to hide a body like that.

I’ve taken off my shoes and wander toward the lounges with towels. “I thought you didn’t like that suit.”

“I have to get comfortable in it if I don’t want permanent bruises. May as well start trying.”

I scan her body and shake my head with a smile. Long limbs, flat belly, nice tits, perfect skin, long hair still in that messy bun so popular with young women now.

She stands at the stairs, looking at the pool, hands clasped demurely in front of her.

“Malia.” When she looks at me, I say, “You don’t have to wait for me to tell you to do anything. Do what comes naturally.”

She hesitates, then takes the first couple of steps. “Oh my God. It’s so warm.”

The pleasure in her voice thrills me more than it should. When she’s on the bottom stair, she sinks to a seat. I unbutton my shirt, and her gaze follows my actions. “Are you getting in?”

“You can’t learn to swim by instruction alone.”

She glances around the deck. I’ve already banished Toby to the house, so we’re alone. “I don’t think I’ve ever been out here without guards.”

“I’m sure they fight for that assignment.”

“Why? It’s boring.”

She seems sincerely oblivious to her effect on men.

I take my shirt off and her gaze shifts to my chest. The simple act of her looking at me has blood flowing south. I’m not completely covered in tats, but a fair amount of my skin is inked, more heavily in the areas of my body that has been scarred from abuse.

When I unfasten my pants, she says, “There are cameras out here.”

“I turned them off.” I step out of my pants, leaving my boxer briefs in place. “And these aren’t much different from swim trunks.”

Her gaze slips away, her expression shy as if embarrassed for me to see her looking.

“This probably isn’t a good idea, now that I think about it,” she says, moving toward the stairs. “They’ll be mad you taught me.”

I wade into the pool and stop her from getting out. “I don’t care what they say. They’re not here, and a father refusing to teach his daughter to swim when you live on an island is unfathomable.”

“The guards will tell them.”

“I sent them inside.”

“They’re watching.” There is no missing the angst in her voice as she looks around the yard. “They’re always watching.”

I use her chin to turn her gaze back to mine. “I’m the only person you need to think about right now. We’re going to learn to tread water first.”

I explain and demonstrate how to scull her hands and peddle her feet. I let her hold on to my arm until she figures out that she can keep herself afloat without touching down.

When she gets to the point where she willingly takes her feet off the bottom of the pool without clinging to me, I teach her how inhaling deeply lifts her in the water. And while she’s distracted trying to deal with her fear, I inch us into the middle of the pool where she can’t touch down.

While she learns the basics in minutes, it takes her nearly an hour to get control over her fear. And that storm that was supposed to come in late tonight is encroaching on the setting sun.

“You look pretty comfortable,” I say. “Ready for the deep end?”

Fear flashes across her face. She instantly grabs my arm, pulling herself flush with my body, and gripping my shoulders. “No. Not ready.”

I wrap one arm around her middle, holding her against me, while using my three other limbs to tread water, keeping us both afloat. And almighty God, she feels so good, it’s all I can do to keep from mauling her.

“We’re already there,” I tell her.

Alarm breaks over her expression. She wraps one arm around my neck, and I’m trying to keep myself in line because every time she moves, my cock grows.

“Love, you’re going to choke me,” I tease.

“Sorry.” She tries but fails to loosen her hold.

“You need to trust the process. I promise I won’t let you drown. You were just keeping yourself up in four feet of water. There’s nothing different about eight feet or twenty feet or fifty feet. You do exactly the same thing.”

I gently pry her away from me. “When you’re ready to try, just let go.”

It takes some time and coaxing, but she finally tries. And when she succeeds, the fear is replaced with shock, then with pleasure. And finally, pride.

“I’m doing it,” she says with a shaky smile. “I’m doing it.”

I stay an arm’s length away and offer my index finger. “Wrap your finger around mine, and we’ll move.”

She quickly figures out how to move through the water while also keeping her head up.

“I noticed you don’t have any pets,” I say, distracting her as I take her into the deep end again. “I had a dog when I was young. Best thing that ever happened to me. You could probably use a little buddy like that.”

Her gaze refocuses on me with a soft look that makes my insides feel weird. “Do you have one now?”

“No. I travel too much.”

“I love animals, especially cats, but…”

“Not allowed.”

She sighs and shakes her head.

We head back to the shallow end, and when she puts her feet down, she jumps toward me and wraps me in a hug. A glorious, full-body, skin-to-skin hug.

“Let’s try floating.” I force myself to pull away, place a hand against her spine, and say, “Just lie back. I’ll keep you up. It’s just like treading water. Once you get it, you won’t need me.”

I’m surprised by how much the idea of her not needing me sticks under my ribs like a burr.

Once she’s on her back, I tell her, “Chin to the sky. That’s the secret. Head back, chest up, chin up, and you’ll float. Simple physics.”

I’m suddenly faced with the front of her body on gorgeous display, playing in and out of the water, and all I want to do is taste her. Water collects in her belly button and at the hollow of her throat. I can’t keep myself from pressing my lips to her belly, even though I want to do so much more.

She glances down at me, and her body sinks.

“Chin up,” I remind her.

She refocuses, and I drop my hand to let her float on her own. First for a few seconds, then several seconds, then half a minute. I see the moment she relaxes. Her body loosens, and she smiles. Another one of those I-can-really-do-this smiles.

Strangely, pride blooms in my chest too.

“Looks like you’ve got it.” And I need to get out of the pool, away from her, and into an ice-cold shower. “All you have to do is combine the treading and the floating until you can get ahold of something.”

When her feet touch down again, she wraps her arms around my neck, her legs around my hips, and presses her face against my neck. “Thank you for this.”

My eyes close. My jaw clenches. Our hour of living in the moment vaporizes. And I’m left with the twisted situation I’ve created.

I’m about to push her away and get out, when she lifts her head and kisses me. Her show of initiative and the warmth of her mouth drag me under. And when she slides her tongue into my mouth, I nearly combust.

But she’s the one to end the kiss when the clouds dump rain with surprising force.

“Let’s get inside,” I tell her. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

“The chef won’t?—”

“I sent her home. Dry off and come to the kitchen.”