But she wouldn’t listen to me. She loosened the knot in her hair and it tumbled down her back and over her shoulders. Fuck, could she be any more beautiful?

She stood at the edge of the pool and cast a look at me over her shoulder, a small smile curled on her lips.

“Harlow—”

Water cascaded into the air as she dived in and resurfaced, laughing. “Oh my god, Heath … it’s beautiful!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re crazy!”

“Come in.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

When she stood up and looked at me, I swear to God she set my body on fire with that mere gaze. I drew in a deep breath. And I ignored the desperate need to walk into that water and gather her into my arms and walk out again. Because if I did, I would take her straight to my bedroom and spend the rest of the night fucking that need right out of my body.

She smiled and then nodded as she extended an arm to me. “Will you help me out?”

I knelt down and offered her my hand. Wet fingers curled around mine. Her eyes fixed mine and slowly her lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“Harlow—” I warned.

My words were drowned by the rush of water as she pulled me into the pool. When I surfaced she threw her arms around me and curled her long legs around my body.

Before I could stop her, her soft lips found my mouth and she kissed me. I wanted to stop. I really did. Because I knew she was drunk. But the most incredible lips were kissing me and her tongue filled my mouth and worked against mine in a kiss wild horses couldn’t drag me away from. It was so sweet, and so wet, and so I kissed her right back. And when she moaned, I moaned right back, taking it all in. The wetness of her mouth, the smooth glide of her lips, the soft gentle lap of her tongue against mine, the subtle grind of her hips as she pressed her legs tighter around my waist. It was killing my resolve.

Even lost in the bliss of her mouth against mine I could see those long legs wrapped tightly around me. Only the thin piece of fabric of her panties separated us and the thought made me dizzy. I was hard and I throbbed. And even as I was losing myself in that kiss and responding to the unsubtle language of her body, I knew I would have to stop.

But goddamn it … it was a war inside of me. I wanted nothing more than to pull off my jeans, rip the thin fabric of those panties and plunge deep into her.

I closed my eyes against the thought.

“Harlow … no …” I breathed hard. “You’re drunk.”

She was determined.

“I don’t care,” she said between her assaults against my mouth. Smooth hands cupped my jaw. Hips rocked against mine. Jesus, I could feel her grinding against me, against every part that mattered right now.

I breathed hard against the raging desire that tore through me.

“Harlow, let me take you inside.”

She pulled back, her beautiful face glimmering with tiny droplets of water. She cocked a brow.

“I want you to take me inside …”

I shook my head and if I wasn’t fighting a raging hard-on and a violent urge to be inside her, I would have smiled at how adorable and sexy she was.

“Let me put you to bed,” I said, trying hard to do the right thing.

“Yes. I want you to put me in your bed and show me what drives all the girls crazy for you.” She kissed my neck and I couldn’t stop the groan. Fuck. Me. She was making it hard on me.

“Baby …” The word slipped from my lips as she kissed them. “Not now. Not like this,” I whispered.

She fixed me with those amazing eyes. “Yes now. Yes, like this.”

I smoothed her wet hair from her forehead and looked into her perfect face. “Harlow, I don’t want to make love to you when you’re like this. When I make love to you, I want you to be sober and—”

She frowned. Her eyes rounded. “You don’t want to make love to me?” she slurred. She looked hurt and then brushed her lips against my throat. “Then don’t make love to me. Fuck me.”

Her words made me harder than I’d ever been in my life.

“Not when you’re drunk.”

Pulling back, she fixed me with dark, shiny eyes and released my neck from her grasp. She waded backwards a little and stood before me, suddenly shivering, her skin glistening with diamonds of water, the fabric of her dress clinging to her every perfect curve.

Her brows drew in sharply.

“Fuck you Heath!” she suddenly cried, flinging an arm out and letting it drop limply to her side. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you!”

Drunk Harlow had re-emerged and she was D.R.U.N.K.

She waded towards the edge and clumsily climbed out. “Fuck you. You fuck!”

Apparently she was attempting to see how many f-bombs she could fit into the one sentence. And she was going for gold.

She stumbled across the patio and slipped over, crashing to her knees. With a rush of water I leapt out of the pool and guided her to her feet.

“Don’t touch me.” She slapped my hand away. The hand I wasn’t using to help her up. Conveniently.

“Let me get you inside.”

She pushed me and took a wobbly step backwards, hugging her wet arms around her waist.

“Why not me?” she asked suddenly. “Why not me, Heath?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What’s wrong with me? You want everything with a pulse … except me …”

And then it dawned on me. What she was saying.

“Wait. You think I don’t want you?” I asked.

Was she really that blind?

She shivered and nodded, and I stepped towards her and took her by the shoulders. But she wouldn’t look at me. I turned her chin to me and she looked up at me with those large soft eyes. Her lashes were long and thick with droplets and her skin sparkled with diamonds of water. She shivered again and her chin quivered.

“I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you, Harlow,” I said quietly.

She blinked and water trickled down her cheeks. “You want me?”

I nodded and ran the pad of my fingertips down her cheek. “More than you could ever know. But you are drunk. It’s not meant to happen this way.”

She closed her eyes and slowly opened them again. “I wish I wasn’t.”

“Me too.”

She smiled up at me and pulled me closer by the belt loop of my wet jeans. “When I wake up tomorrow … I hope I remember this moment.”

“I doubt you will.”

“You’re probably right.” She reached around and held me, placing her wet cheek against my chest. “I think I’m in love with you Heath.”

“I think I might be in love with you too H-bomb.”

She pulled back and smiled up at me. But her smile suddenly faded and she abruptly pulled away, quickly disappearing behind a shrub to throw up.

I had to laugh at the irony. It was the first time I’d ever told anyone I might be in love with them.

And it had made her violently ill.

* * * * *

HARLOW

I had died and I was in hell.

Either that or I had been in some kind of terrible accident and was lying injured somewhere. Various scenarios skipped across my injured brain before I bit the bullet and braved opening my eyes.

Bright light flooded my vision and I quickly squeezed them shut again. Where the hell was I? And who had loosed the stampede of jackhammers on my brain?

I rolled over in search of a place where my brain would stop hurting and I found a cool spot. Settling into it, I waited for sleep to take me away on its soothing tides again. I felt warm. Relaxed. Content amongst the sheets. Feeling the softness of the fabric against my skin and the warm body beside me.

What the…?

My eyes flew open.

Holy hell!

I. Was. In. Heath’s. Bed.

With Heath.

Wearing nothing but an unfamiliar pair of boxer shorts and singlet.

Almost too afraid to move I peered under the sheet.

Oh thank God! Heath had his boxers on.

I snapped the sheet back down and turned my neck to see Heath smiling at me.