My Swimmer Stepbrother's Forbidden Claim
The sound of his movement preceded him—the rhythmic, violent *slap-hiss* of a man who was using the water as an adversary.
Samuel was in the center lane, his body a dark, blurred silhouette cutting through the cerulean glow. He was swimming with a punishing, frenetic pace, his butterfly stroke a masterclass in controlled aggression. Each time his shoulders breached the surface, he looked less like a champion and more like a man trying to outrun his own skin.
Tanya didn't call out to him. She knew better. She walked to the edge of the lane, her shadow stretching long and distorted across the water, and sat down on the cool tile. She pulled her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped around her s