Page 41 of Chasing Kit

“I fucking hate it here.”

“He’s not to be trusted, is he?” I leaned against him, resting my cheek on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms tight around my waist.

He tilted his head upward, and I followed his gaze, noticing the camera in the top corner of the elevator. “No one in this city can be trusted. St. Loren is run by dangerous people.”

“Oh.” I eyed the camera again but remained silent.

We arrived at the private pool floor, and I let War take the lead. As soon as we were inside the room, he began a tour of the space, though it was more a check for threats. He opened every door, and I waited patiently. Finally, he made a sound of approval.

“Let’s get dressed.” He held out his hand, and I took it, allowing him to lead me into the dressing rooms.

We changed into our bright new shorts, and I laughed when he made a face of disgust once they were comfortably on his hips.

“I look like Barbie,” he grumbled.

“No, you’re definitely Ken with all these abs.” I patted his sculpted stomach, my fingers dancing over the lines of muscles that teased me every time he took his shirt off. Damn, how did I get so lucky to have a man this fit as mine? “At least you’re not Ken down below, though.” I waggled my eyebrows when he groaned.

He gently nudged me toward the pool. I snickered and raced toward the deep end.

“Careful—”

He didn’t get to finish because I’d already launched myself into a cannon ball, my backside hitting the water hard. The pool swallowed me before I kicked my feet and surfaced with a large breath. He stood at the edge, fondly exasperated, staring down at me.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“Not before you get into the pool with those sexy shorts.” I poked my tongue out at him as I treaded water. Excitement surged through my veins. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone swimming. We had Lake Ontario in New Gothenburg that people regularly swam in, but I’d been so busy with school I never took the time. I took college classes during the summer. “Come in, big guy.”

War snorted and stood at the edge. I took a moment to appreciate the hard lines of his body and the thick trunks he called thighs. He was pure masculine energy—all brawn, brains, and survival instincts. Even as he lined up to dive, his gaze assessed his surroundings with caution. I didn’t know this new world I’d been introduced to. Maybe he had a good reason to keep watch.

He dived in with an elegance I didn’t possess. He cut through the water like a god, and when he surfaced, it was with grace that made my cheeks flush with heat. Holy shit, he was hot. So fucking hot. What would Cassian say if War and I had sex in the pool?

“Come here,” War growled, and my fingers tingled at the sound of his voice working its way into my bones. He’d taken off his dog tags, and it was strange to see his upper chest bare of the silver chain, but I didn’t mind it. They were a reminder of what he’d been through, and without them, it felt oddly like he was shedding some of his traumatic past.

I swam to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He grabbed my ass, fingers squeezing, and I curled my legs around his waist, holding him completely. Our chests were pressed together, his skin warm against mine.

He swam toward the edge along a shallower part, and I held on like a monkey. When he reached the side, he spun us around so his back was against the tiles and settled, humming contentedly.

“This is nice,” he said. His shoulders relaxed, and the alertness I was used to calmed. It didn’t disappear—War’s gaze still wandered every so often—but some of the tension bled out of him.

“Do you like swimming because of your SEAL training?”

He grunted. “No. I chose the navy and then SEAL training because I’ve always liked swimming.” He caressed the length of my spine, tracing the knobs up my back as if mapping every inch of my body into his memory. “I’ve always enjoyed being in water. My mom took me and Eric to the lake a lot during the summers.”

“You grew up in New Gothenburg?” I stroked a knuckle across his sharp, strong cheekbone, the hair on his jaw prickling my skin.

“Yes.” His hands went to my ass, gripping my cheeks tight. “I’ve lived there all my life.”

“And you were born on August . . . .” I drew out the words, but he didn’t take the bait. He just grinned, waiting. Asshole. “August thirtieth?” It wouldn’t hurt to guess. He’d made a point last night that I didn’t even know his birthday, so I was determined to learn it one way or another.

He laughed. “Close. The twentieth.”

“That makes you a . . . Virgo?” I didn’t know my star signs well.

“On the cusp. I’m a Leo. Virgo starts on the twenty-second.”

“See, I know my stuff,” I joked, running my hand over his head, fingernails dancing over his scalp. He groaned in pleasure, and the sound went straight to my dick. “Should we be afraid of this meeting with Riccardo Sabbatini?”

War sighed. I hated that I’d brought up the letter, but I had no idea what I was dealing with. This was all new to me, and I felt like an outsider. “I don’t know. Sabbatini is a tentative ally of your dad’s. The world of criminals is all connected in one way or another—either enemies, friends, or somewhere in between. The fact that your brother is sleeping with Sabbatini’s married cousin makes everything more difficult. I don’t think your dad knows about that. If he did, he would’ve dragged Sky home by the hair.”