The fabric, tied at one muscular shoulder, hung to his calves. Steam rose off the still water, shrouding him with a dreamlike quality as he skirted the languid pool. With careful precision, Fontana lounged against the throw pillows at the pool’s edge, then stretched. Satisfaction shot through her when his eyes dropped to her breasts where they strained against the white fabric of her toga. He neared, and she plucked a grape from the bowl of fruit a serving ’bot had delivered, along with more dry towels and body sanitizer, which he’d placed near the pool’s edge. His eyes remained on her face as she brought the fruit to her lips and slowly sucked it into her mouth. When Brent reached the pillows, he lowered himself beside her and propped up on an elbow. Fontana tracked her gaze down the tanned legs stretched out alongside hers toward the pool. She released a quiet breath. He was beautiful. Brent put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “You look lovely.” He kissed her, soft and sweet.
