MY MUSCLES WERE ACHING by the time we made it back to August's house. After being on my feet all day yesterday and spending today unloading boxes, I was beat.

So when August surprisingly invited me to join him for a workout in his home gym, I declined, telling him I couldn't go another minute without rinsing off. It wasn't a lie; I badly needed a shower. But I also didn't want August to know how drained I was. He'd probably lock me up in his guest room the next time he had things to take care of around the island.

I had no idea how he had the energy to work out, but I was sure he was used to a hell of a lot more physical activity than I was. And while I certainly wouldn't mind watching August Fletcher engage in more physical activity, I figured that would be a terrible idea after what happened between us this morning.

I was already suffering from undeniable attraction to this man and making it way too obvious; watching him work out would not help my case.

Instead, I stared at the ceiling in my room and contemplated my life choices before taking a long, hot shower and wrapping myself in a fluffy robe I found folded in the bathroom. Had August put that there for me? Or did he just stock his guest bathroom as though it were a well-rated hotel? Either way, I took advantage of it.

Robe-clad with freshly blow-dried hair, I eventually emerged from my room to grab a glass of water. And when I turned the corner into the kitchen, I found a towel-wearing August Fletcher.

He didn't have a shirt on–of course, he didn't have a shirt on–and was bent over the kitchen counter as he sliced strawberries. His muscles shifted under glistening skin as he worked, hinting that he'd also just gotten out of the shower.

Never had a man looked so good while slicing strawberries.

"You must be hungry," he said, unfazed by the situation.

My mouth was watering. But it had nothing to do with being hungry. For strawberries, anyway.

When I struggled to respond, August glanced over at me. And then he did the unthinkable....he smirked.

He knew. He knew what he was doing, waltzing around without any clothes on while his hair was all wet and messy, and he smelled–ugh. Good. Too Good. And he was enjoying it. Way too much, in my opinion.

"Castle?"

"Sorry." I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to figure out why you're standing there without clothes on."

"Does it bother you?" he asked, his eyes twinkling before he looked back at the fruit he was cutting.

"It doesn't bother me," I insisted, even though it did, in fact, bother me. In the way that seeing August Fletcher half-naked made me feel hot and bothered. Very bothered. Even more than that day we'd gone swimming, and he'd ended up in my shower wearing the same thing he had on now.

Probably because ever since then, we'd been inching closer and closer to a line that we both knew we shouldn't cross. I now had memories, real, true memories of what it felt like to have August's arousal pressed against my body, and God, I didn't know how to move on after that. I didn't know how to forget what it had felt like earlier today when I thought he would kiss me.

"Here." August, still with a smirk on his face, shoved a bowl of fruit into my hands. "Eat this while I prepare the rest of the meal. Do you like stir fry?"

"Yes." I swallowed. Hard. "Are you going to prepare it while wearing a towel?"

He lifted a brow. "I thought it didn't bother you, Castle."

"I'm just looking out for you, Fletcher," I said with a shrug, trying not to let my own smirk slide onto my face. "You have a lot of misguided faith in that towel. What happens if it falls? Looks like it wouldn't take much."

"Hmm." His eyes flicked over me, and I felt a flush rise from my neck, spreading over my cheeks and heating them. "And what happens when that belt around your waist falls? Then we'd both be in trouble, wouldn't we?"

I gaped at him for a second. There was something different about him ever since we left the athletic complex. Something more open, something more...bold.

"We definitely would be," I said breathlessly. "And you seem like a person who tries to avoid trouble."

"For the most part, I am," he allowed. "But there are things you don't know about me, Castle."

"Enlighten me," I said, taking a step forward. "After all, that's why I'm here. To learn more about you."

His expression flickered–the slightest sign of distaste for the reason I was here. I'd been noticing it more and more, every time I mentioned the article I had to produce by the end of this. But August didn't say anything about his distaste. He merely dropped his voice and murmured, "This isn't the kind of thing you can write in your article."

"Oh?" My heartbeat picked up. I could feel my skin sticking to the fuzzy fabric of my robe, a light sheen of sweat gathering on my body that I could only attribute to August. The mostly-naked, sweet-talking version of August, anyway. "And what kind of thing is it?"

"You still want to know?" he pressed. He was so close to me now that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Even if you can't write about it?"

I plucked a strawberry from the fruit bowl and plopped it into my mouth, slowly licking the juice off my fingers while my eyes stayed on August. His mouth pressed into a tight line as he watched me, eyes darkening.

"Yeah," I said after swallowing. "I still want to know."

I found August to be one of the most interesting men I'd ever met, and it didn't have anything to do with him being an athlete. It didn't have anything to do with my job at all. It was just so rare to find someone like him. I'd never met a man that tried so damn hard to be a gentleman.

Tried being the operative word because the way he was looking at me right now wasn't gentlemanly at all.

Yet, he hadn't acted on the things his body language told me. He hadn't admitted wanting the things his words had only hinted at.

"I shouldn't tell you," he breathed, almost like he could read my mind. He sounded dazed, as though the thoughts inside his brain were far from the words coming out of his mouth. "I really shouldn't."

"You probably also shouldn't be standing here in nothing but a towel," I pointed out, slipping another strawberry into my mouth. "But apparently, you like a little bit of trouble."

"Apparently I do," he agreed, eyes locked on my lips, "considering how much I like you."

"Oh, so I'm trouble?" I took one more strawberry before putting the bowl back on the counter.

"You're so much fucking trouble, Castle," August groaned. He ripped his attention away from my mouth, finding my gaze instead. "You have no idea."

"Give me an idea," I encouraged, stepping so close that I had to tip my head back to look at him. I winced at the twinge in my neck it caused.

"Are you okay?" August's expression immediately changed, gaze sweeping over me in concern. He retreated, making it so I wouldn't have to crank my neck to look at him. And while it was a relief for my muscles, I didn't like having space between us.

Damn.

"I think my neck and shoulders are just a little sore from unloading the truck," I said, trying to play it off.

He frowned. "You're supposed to lift with your legs, Castle."

I shrugged. "Kinda hard to do when Finny's passing things down from the truck bed."

August sighed. "Turn around."

I raised a brow at him in surprise. But when he made an impatient twirling motion with his finger, I slowly turned, unsure what he was planning.

I certainly didn't expect him to brush my hair to one side, drape it over my shoulder, and ask, "Can I touch you?"

My response came out breathless. "Yes."

August's touch gently prodded my neck as he tried to find the problem areas. Then he sank his fingers in, massaging in slow circles in the exact place I needed him. "Sore there?"

All I could manage was a whimper. "Mhm."

"Tomorrow we'll say home," he murmured, almost like a reassurance. "Rest."

"Don't change your plans for me," I argued, my eyes fluttering shut at the pure bliss spreading down my neck from where his fingers were doing their magic.

"I have a meeting, but we'll move it online," he insisted.

"Okay." I gasped when he found a particularly sensitive spot and then swallowed, trying to keep it together. "I should start putting some of my notes together and begin a draft of my article."

He hesitated. "If you have more questions about anything, I can answer them over dinner."

"Really?"

Everything about this moment felt like it must be a dream.

There was another long pause before August muttered, "I'll do my best."

And then, almost as though he was trying to wipe my mind blank of what he'd just agreed to, he dug his fingers into a pressure point, and a groan flew from my lips.

"Castle," he grunted, almost a warning.

But if he didn't want me to make a sound, then he shouldn't–

August hit another pressure point, and even though I pressed my lips together, a satisfied noise still leaked between them. Fuck, that felt good.

His hands stilled, his body leaning in. I felt his closeness, his heat. And his lips as they brushed against the back of my ear, issuing husky words. "If you keep making those sounds, I'm going to put you on the kitchen counter, spread your legs, and give you something to actually moan about."

My breath hitched, but I was prepared. I was ready to let another whimper out and wait for August to follow through on his threat. I was aching for him to follow through with his threat.

But a second later, his hands vanished, and I felt him move away.

Sure enough, when I managed to turn around despite having legs that felt like jello, August was back at the kitchen counter. This time, chopping vegetables. And all I could do was stare at him. How could he say something like that and then act like it hadn't happened?

August noticed me staring and peeked over at me. His eyes burned into mine, and his lips cocked to one side.

"Fucking trouble." He shook his head, closing his eyes as though he couldn't believe what he'd just let slip. I couldn't believe it, either. "You are fucking trouble, Castle."

We were both in trouble.

But I was starting to think that trouble could be a lot of fun.

☀️

a/n:

Who's going to crack first?

thanks for reading!
xoxo amelie