Dirty Little Desires
I push myself out of the water, contemplating another jump before dinner’s ready.
“Thinking of going again?” Oliver asks, handing me a towel. “I know you were scared.”
I shrug it off. “I just wanted to see what it was like.”
He grins. “I know. I admire that about you.”
“Which part? My recklessness where my own safety is concerned, or my swanlike grace while flying through the air?”
He laughs. “That you aren’t scared of doing things. That when there’s something you want, you go out and get it.”
He gives me a long, intense look that makes a ribbon of heat curl around my belly.
Oliver’s a gazillionaire who’s never met a person he couldn’t finesse, never come across a deal he couldn’t close. If there’s someone who has issues getting what they want, it certainly isn’t him.
“Want to go for a walk with me later? There’s something I want to show you,” he says, cutting me off before I can ask him what he meant just a second ago.
My stupid heart skips a beat when he asks. “Yeah,” I reply a little too quickly, like a lovesick moron.
He perks up. “Yeah?”
I smile. “Definitely.”