His Private Swim Sessions - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading His Private Swim Sessions, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of His Private Swim Sessions.
"That's enough for today. Hit the showers in the Aquatic Center—pool water's not exactly sanitary."
Vincent Roland, my swim instructor, jerked his chin toward the shower room before gathering his gear.
Outside, the sky had deepened into dusk, and after hours of relentless training, every muscle in my body screamed in protest.
I snatched my towel and stepped into the shower room, peeling off my damp bikini before stepping under the spray. The hot water sluiced over my skin, washing away the chlorine but doing nothing to ease the restless heat simmering beneath my skin.
My hands moved of their own accord, tracing slow, teasing paths over my body as the tension coiled tighter.
A breathy sigh escaped me as I arched into my own touch, hips rolling forward—
The shower door flew open.
I froze.
Completely exposed.
Heart hammering, I whirled around—
And there he was.
Vincent Roland.
My throat went dry.
I swore I'd locked that door.
But of course—he was the instructor. He had a key.
Mortification locked my limbs in place, leaving me trapped in that shameless pose.
Vincent stood just as he had during our lesson—nothing but that damn Speedo clinging to his hips.
Except now, the fabric strained against an obscene bulge, barely containing what was underneath.
"Evelyn…" His voice was rough, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Perfect timing. I could use a shower too."
Before I could even think to move, he closed the distance between us.
I scrambled to straighten up, but his hands were already on me—strong, possessive—hauling me onto the narrow ledge by the door.
A mirror hung directly across from us.
Giving me a front-row seat to every shameless second of this.
Vincent Roland, my swim instructor, jerked his chin toward the shower room before gathering his gear.
Outside, the sky had deepened into dusk, and after hours of relentless training, every muscle in my body screamed in protest.
I snatched my towel and stepped into the shower room, peeling off my damp bikini before stepping under the spray. The hot water sluiced over my skin, washing away the chlorine but doing nothing to ease the restless heat simmering beneath my skin.
My hands moved of their own accord, tracing slow, teasing paths over my body as the tension coiled tighter.
A breathy sigh escaped me as I arched into my own touch, hips rolling forward—
The shower door flew open.
I froze.
Completely exposed.
Heart hammering, I whirled around—
And there he was.
Vincent Roland.
My throat went dry.
I swore I'd locked that door.
But of course—he was the instructor. He had a key.
Mortification locked my limbs in place, leaving me trapped in that shameless pose.
Vincent stood just as he had during our lesson—nothing but that damn Speedo clinging to his hips.
Except now, the fabric strained against an obscene bulge, barely containing what was underneath.
"Evelyn…" His voice was rough, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Perfect timing. I could use a shower too."
Before I could even think to move, he closed the distance between us.
I scrambled to straighten up, but his hands were already on me—strong, possessive—hauling me onto the narrow ledge by the door.
A mirror hung directly across from us.
Giving me a front-row seat to every shameless second of this.
End of His Private Swim Sessions Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to His Private Swim Sessions book page.