𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 ✔️ (𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀)

➼ Chap. 05 ⭑

"Paris, I'm dead serious," he bites out, forcing his eyes back up to my face. "You're not supposed to be in the pool with that ankle."

I pout dramatically.

"My ankle's fine. Look—I'm swimming just fine. Zero hobbling involved," I lie sweetly, kicking up a little splash. "Besides... you're here now. If I hurt myself, you can carry me again. Like last time."

His fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to strangle something—or maybe me. I hope it's me. In the hot way.

"Paris," he says again, quieter this time. The kind of quiet that makes my stomach flutter. "Don't push me."

"Push you?" I echo, tilting my head. "I would never."

He doesn't reply. Just gives me that look—the one that screams he's two seconds away from throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I hold up a hand.

"Okay, okay. Don't blow a fuse, old man."

His nostrils flare and his jaw ticks.

"I'm not old."

"You're not young either," I tease, kicking my legs lazily under the water. "You grunt every time you sit down. I've heard it."

"I grunt because of you," he grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Now come on. Don't make me drag you out."

My smile turns wicked.

"Tempting offer, honestly," I say, splashing a little water his way before extending a dripping hand toward him. "Help me out then?"

He hesitates. Then, with a sigh heavy enough to carry centuries of annoyance, he drops to a squat, reaching out to take my hand. I see my opening. With one sharp tug, I yank him forward. His eyes widen in sheer disbelief as he loses balance.

"Paris—!"

Too late.

He hits the water with a full-body slap. The wave crashes over me, and I burst into laughter, barely keeping myself afloat. I double over, cackling like a maniac. The look of shock on his face before he went under? Absolutely priceless.

"Oh my God," I gasp between giggles. "That was even better than I imagined."

Luciano's usually the picture of calm and control, so watching him surface, drenched and blinking water from his eyes like he just got smacked by the universe is beyond satisfying.

"Well," I sing, backing up a bit in the water. "Guess I'm not the only one going for a swim."

Luciano wipes his face with both hands, slicks his hair back, and just stares at me, eyes blazing. He looks like a pissed-off Roman god—and damn, the image sparks a very inconvenient heat between my thighs.

His soaked white shirt clings to his chest, completely transparent now. My grin falters, because—hello—muscles and tattoos and wet, angry man? Dangerous combo.

"You think this is fucking funny?" He asks, voice calm.

Too calm.

"A little." I squeak, still grinning but now treading water cautiously. "You look hot, by the way. Wet suits you."

He glares at me like he's about to commit a murder and starts swimming toward me. Slowly. Like a predator stalking prey. No splashing. Just smooth, terrifying strokes. My heart kicks into overdrive as I begin backing away.

"Luciano," I say, laughing nervously. "It was just a little joke."

"You pulled me in fully clothed."

"You needed to cool off!"