Page 45 of Wasted

Standing on the river’s edge, I smiled as I dropped my fishing line into the water. It was the perfect night for camping. The moon was full, the skies were clear, and there was a cool breeze that made you want to curl up next to the fire.

I closed my eyes as Cole's heat surrounded my body when he pressed his front to my back, wrapping his arms around me.

His mouth dropped to my ear. "Hungry?"

My breath hitched as the heat of his breath fanned across my skin. "Starving," I whispered. We'd worked until just before sunset, finishing replacing the old rotted fence posts with new ones, only stopping once for lunch. Well, I mostly just sat on the tailgate admiring the man fixing my fence.

"Well," he pressed his lips to the spot on my neck just below my ear as he wrapped his hand around the fishing pole just above mine, "I have two shrimp boil foil packets on the grill that are almost ready."

I laughed as I released the fishing pole to him. "That's a far cry from hot dogs and beans."

He stepped back, and I twisted around as he laid the pole on the ground. "I figured we could have a grownup campout."

I raised my brows. "And what exactly is a grown-up camp out." I chuckled as I followed him back to the campfire.

He stopped turning me, his lips curling into a smirk. "You don't know?" Pursing my lips, I shook my head. He stepped forward until he was invading my personal space. "Well," his hands curled around my hips as his gaze dropped to mouth and the tip of his tongue traced his bottom lip, telling me far more than his words ever would, "it consists of grown-up food."

Smiling, I nodded. "Okay."

"And," he pulled me tight against him as his mouth dropped to mine, "grown-up kissing." My eyes closed as he pressed his full lips to mine in a soft, sweet kiss that left me wanting more. "And adult swimming."

I huffed out a laugh. "And what exactly is adult swimming?"

His hands slid around my hips, cupping my ass before jerking me up. "Naked." The corners of his lips lifted. "Adult swimming involves lots of nakedness."

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I threw my head back with a laugh. "Nakedness isn't a word."

He walked forward, getting further and further away from the light of the campfire and closer and closer to the darkness of the creek. "Oh, it's definitely a word."

"You should give me an exact definition."

It was getting harder and harder to see him with nothing but the moonlight giving a soft glow.

"I think it requires more of a demonstration."

The sound of running water echoed through the quiet as he strolled down the bank until his boots were covered with water. I expected him to stop, to put me down. I expected him to stripdown to nothing, but he didn't. Fully dressed and still carrying me, he walked into the water.

Typically, the creek wasn't very deep, but it had been a wet summer and an even wetter fall, so it looked more like a river. I squealed as the cold water covered my legs, playfully fighting to free myself from his grasp, but his grip tightened until we were waist-deep.

"I'm confused." I laughed as he released me, and I took a step back, looking down at my wet clothes or what I could see of them. "This is the opposite of naked."

"Oh right," he teased. "I knew I forgot something." He reached out, grabbing a handful of his shirt. "Let me rectify that." He tugged his shirt, pulled it over his head, and tossed it to the shoreline. My eyes roamed over every curve of his perfect body as it glistened under the moonlight. He stepped forward, closing the space between us, and my heart rate spiked. The air between us suddenly became so charged it vibrated through me. My chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

His gaze followed his hands as they slipped under the hem of my wet t-shirt, his thumbs brushing against my wet skin, and I nearly stopped breathing. Cole's gaze lifted, meeting mine, silently asking for permission.

With a faint smile, I nodded before lifting my arms. He dragged my wet t-shirt over my head and discarded it on the shore. "I have been thinking about this all day." His voice dropped to a husky whisper.

"Like all day?" I smiled, sliding my hands into the hem of my black leggings and working them down my legs, fighting against the water to avoid falling when I lifted a leg. My hand shot out, grabbing his arm to steady myself as his eyes followed my every move. When I pulled the last leg off, I tossed the leggings to the shore.

His lips spread into a grin, and he nodded, his mouth lowered to mine, hovering mere centimeters away. "All. Day." His lips claimed mine. It started off slow and sweet but quickly turned desperate and messy as I shoved my hands into his hair, pulling his mouth tighter against mine. There was no mercy as my lips parted, inviting him in. He thrust his tongue in, meeting mine with wild, fevered strokes. His hands curled around my hips, tearing his mouth from mine when he twisted me away.

His lips grazed my shoulder, and his hand moved down my stomach. His other arm wrapped around my chest, holding me flush against him. Closing my eyes, I gasped as my head fell back against his shoulder when his fingers slipped beneath my panties.

As teens, foreplay wasn't a huge part of our sex life. We were always so desperate for each other that there was never time for foreplay. Plus, we were kids and didn't have all the time in the world to explore each other’s bodies. We had enough time to get our fill of each other before someone caught us.

Someone catching us now didn't have the same effect it did then. There wouldn't be any awkward talks about the birds and the bees or the consequences of our actions. We were two adults capable of handling any consequence that could come from our actions.

His fingers slid through my heated flesh before circling my core as his other hand slipped under my bra, cupping my breast. I bucked my hips forward, desperate for his touch, desperate for that feeling that only he could give me.

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