Simon sighed as he tugged his son’s swim shorts into place, adjusting the waistband with practiced ease. The feeling of wearing swim trunks and a rash guard without his usual mask left him unsettled, exposed in a way he wasn’t used to. Task Force 141 had decided to take a well-earned break, bringing their families to a water park for a few days of relaxation. His wife had gone all out, booking them a nice room right alongside his teammates and their families.

The plan was simple—get everyone changed, then meet at the cabana.

As he secured the last strap on his son’s water shoes, the bedroom door creaked open.

And then—

His breath hitched.

You stepped out, wearing a swimsuit that hugged every perfect curve, the fabric highlighting your body in ways that made his pulse spike. His jaw went slack, eyes dragging over you in stunned silence.

He barely registered setting his son down on the bed beside his baby sister, who was currently being entertained by his stepson. His focus was locked on you.

Within seconds, he was in front of you, large hands sliding to your hips, his grip firm, possessive.

“God damn, baby,” he muttered, voice low and rough, his eyes dark with something unmistakable.

He leaned in slightly, fingers flexing against your skin as if grounding himself, as if making sure you were real.

The water park could wait.