Page 3 of In Hot Water (The Hot Brothers #3)

CHAPTER THREE

DAWSON

Monday morning hits like a punch to the chest.

My cock’s so goddamn hard, I think it might rip through my boxers, and it’s all thanks to the woman who fucking arrested me yesterday.

The minute my alarm blares, I shoot up in bed, out of breath, still caught in a half-dream where Isla Merrill’s got me pinned, wrists cuffed tight, that look on her face—all business, dead serious, but there’s a glint in her eyes, just a hint of a wicked little smirk.

She knows exactly how much power she’s got over me, and it’s clear she plans to use every ounce of it.

At this moment, I could probably use my cock to crowbar a car door open.

I crank the water all the way to scalding and watch as the steam fogs up the mirror. After stepping under the hot spray, I reach down and wrap my hand around my shaft. My fingers tighten in a brutal grip as my thumb swipes over the swollen, leaking head.

And fuck, the fantasy that ran through my mind on a constant loop last night hits me like a punch to the gut—Isla, all five-foot-nothing of her, shoving me back against the tiles, her shirt hanging open, those perfect fucking tits barely contained in some lacy scrap of a bra.

Sweat glistens in the dip of her collarbone while her hair hangs in a wild fucking mess from where she’s yanked her ponytail free.

She’s smirking, that goddamn knowing smirk, as her nails dig into my hips.

“You gonna behave this time?” she purrs, voice dripping with sin.

I try to laugh, but it comes out as a strangled gasp when her hand snakes between us, fingers curling around my cock in a grip so tight it hurts. She strokes me maddeningly slow, her thumb smearing pre-cum over the head in filthy, slick circles.

“Fuck no,” I grit out, hips jerking into her touch.

She tsks, but her eyes are dark with hunger, her lips parted just enough to show the edge of her perfect white teeth. “Didn’t think so.”

And then she’s dropping to her knees, her mouth hot and wet and perfect around me, swallowing me down like she’s fucking starving for it.

Her tongue flattens against the underside of my cock, licking up every drop of pre-cum before she pulls off just to drag her teeth along the sensitive ridge, and I fucking see goddamn stars behind my closed eyelids.

My fingers tangle in her hair, holding her there as my hips snap forward, fucking into that tight, wet heat. She gags a little as her throat flutters around my cock, and the vibration has me howling.

“Jesus Christ, Isla?—”

She pulls off with a filthy pop, lips glossy with spit, chin slick with it. “Don’t come too fast,” she taunts, her fingers working my shaft in rough, punishing strokes. “I have plans for your big cock.”

I have my own plans. I yank her up, spin her around, and shove her face-first against the shower wall.

Her perfect ass presses back against me, begging for it, and I don’t waste a second.

I hike up her skirt, rip her panties to the side, and slam into her with one brutal thrust. Fuck. I’m not going to survive this.

She screams, nails scraping against the tile, back arching as I pound into her, each snap of my hips driving her higher, harder, until she’s sobbing my name.

And when she comes, it’s with my teeth in her shoulder, my hand fisted in her hair, and my cock buried so deep inside her I can feel her inner walls pulse around me.

My eyes pop open as the fantasy evaporates. I watch my cum circle the drain, realizing these feelings aren’t going anywhere. I’ve got it bad for Isla Merrill. Real bad.

I’m barely out of the shower when my phone buzzes.

Asshole #1

you alive?

I roll my eyes and dry off before texting back.

Me

barely

Asshole #1

Pick up coffee and donuts on your way in.

Leave it to my asshole oldest brother to assume I’ll jump at his orders.

Me

You could say please.

Asshole#1

I could’ve left your dumbass in jail all night.

Fucking hell. I’m never going to hear the end of that. My only hope is Beckett finding his soulmate and acting like a dumbass so I have ammunition against him.

Me

I’ll stop on my way in.

Asshole #1

Hurry. I’m starving.

Then, in typical Beckett fashion, he sends one more text.

Asshole #1

Try not to get arrested on the way.

I send the middle finger emoji since I have zero impulse control, then walk back into my room to dress.

I get to The Black Gold Café by seven and order a dozen donuts and a large black coffee for myself and a vanilla latte for my dumbass brother just to piss him off.

While I’m waiting for the order, the universe decides to drop a huge goddamn present right in my lap. The bell over the door dings, and I turn to watch Isla stroll right in.

Full uniform. Crisp and flawless. Gun and cuffs on her hip, radio on her shoulder, hair pulled back tight and severe. She looks fucking phenomenal, and my heart’s pounding twice as hard as it was yesterday. Fuck. At this rate, I’ll have a goddamn heart condition before I turn thirty-six.

Before she even notices me, I stroll over. “Morning, Deputy Merrill.” I throw out my best grin, the one that always got me out of trouble with every teacher I ever had.

The look of shock on her face is adorable. She quickly wipes it away and replaces it with her bored professional mask. “Mr. Hot.” Her smoky voice sends shivers racing straight down my spine.

She appears totally unaffected by me as she turns to order a white chocolate mocha with an extra shot of espresso.

I file her drink choice away before offering, “Let me get that for you.” I pull out my wallet and hand my credit card to the barista before Isla can object.

“Least I can do after all the trouble I caused.”

She levels a glare at me, the kind that would bring a lesser man to his knees. “That won’t be necessary.” Isla pushes my card out of the way and holds up her phone to the barista.

The barista—a high school kid with a nose ring and the attitude to match—looks from her to me and back again like she’s watching a tennis match. “It’s ready for you to scan.”

Isla holds her phone against the black screen, completely ignoring me.

That doesn’t sit right with me. I step closer to her curvy body, and her indrawn breath tells me she isn’t unaffected.

I lean in, letting my voice drop low so it’s just for her. “A white chocolate mocha, huh? Didn’t peg you for the sweet tooth type. That’s about three notches away from a unicorn frappuccino.”

Her head whips around, hazel eyes boring into me, and for a second, there’s a twitch in her cheek that looks suspiciously like she’s fighting back a laugh.

“If I wanted your opinion on my caffeine habits, Mr. Hot, I’d ask for it.

Which I haven’t.” She’s got a poker face that could win nationals, but her ears are turning the faintest shade of pink. Victory.

I can’t help myself—I take another step, closing the gap so we’re basically toe-to-toe. “Are you always this prickly in the morning, or is it just me?”

She doesn’t back down an inch. “You’re a special case.

” The barista hands Isla her coffee, and the gorgeous deputy spins on her heels and mutters, “See you around, Mr. Hot.” She disappears before I’m able to get my head out of my ass and come up with a reply.

This round goes to Deputy Merrill, but I’m already planning my next move as I watch her walk away.

This isn’t the end. Now that Isla Merrill is in my sights, I’ll do whatever it takes to make her mine.