Against All Odds

Chapter 42

KILLIAN

A loud splash from outside the bungalow, preceded by an abrupt scream that definitely belonged to Stella, made me drop my kindle.

I was on my feet and moving through the suite without a second's thought. It was late, well past midnight, and since sleep eluded me I had been reading. Thoughts of her dominated my mind, of our time together this afternoon, and I found it hard to dispel the sense of enveloping need that threatened to consume me.

Perhaps that was what spurred me to action, to check on her, to ascertain the source of the splash and the reason for her scream... to make sure that she was OK.

Maybe she fell, slipped on the damp tiles surrounding the pool, possibly injuring herself. But when I slid open the door, I found the area deserted, the surface of the water undisturbed. A dim patio light illuminated the area, spilling over both sides of the pool as it was centred directly between Stella's suite and my own. I was able to detect that her pool side, too, was empty... a few discarded items of clothes left to hang over the back of her loungers.

But then I heard, from somewhere below me, "Fuck! That's cold!"

I moved around the side of the pool to peer over the edge, staring down into the dark and calm waters of the ocean surrounding the suites. Muted LED lighting had been interspersed along the underside of the platform the villas had been set upon, allowing for visibility over the ocean even at night, which is how I managed to spot her.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Stella jerked, limbs flailing and churning in the water as she spun towards me. Wide eyes took me in as she tilted her head back to meet my gaze. It was then that I became aware of something else, something that made my gut clench with a vehemence that threatened to buckle my knees.

"I'm swimming!" She rolled her eyes, her arms churning the water on either side of her, the cleft between her breasts drawing my gaze as the pale, smooth globes of her cleavage broke the surface of the water. "Duh."

Naked.

Stella was naked.

At midnight. In the endless ocean.

I couldn't let my rampaging hard-on get in the way of my innate need for caution. Fists clenching at my sides, I managed to grit out, "Surely that's dangerous."

Her legs swished beneath her, the tantalising curve of her hips and ass imprisoning me. "Oh, don't be such a tight ass!" she scoffed. "Live a little, Killian! You're in the Maldives, for Christ's sake!"

Everything inside me stilled at her words, an errant pulse at the base of my cock sending ripples of pleasure straight through my abdomen. Was I interpreting the unspoken meaning of her words correctly- she wanted me to join her?

"You're naked," I pointed out. Wow. I was the owner of three degrees and that was the penultimate statement my brain could produce right then?

"Oh my God." Her grumble met my ears before she turned away from me, swimming out a bit. The clarity of the water, the angle of the light, hit every delectable curve of her. "Skinny dipping isn't a new phenomenon! People have been doing it for ages. You've done it, too." She tossed a glance back at me. "When you were less..."

She turned back around, swimming out into the ocean with smooth, graceful strokes of her limbs, leaving me to watch her while my cock ached and my heart revolted, her words left unspoken but the insinuation clear enough. When I was less frigid... serious... cautious.

Had I turned into some old stickler who never bent the rules? Is that the way she saw me now- stoic Killian Beckett, always with a plan, always toeing the line- whatever that may be. I stared after her, willing myself to turn around and go back inside, ignore the way her naked skin made sordid thoughts run rampant through my entire being.