Page 83 of The Comeback Summer

“I don’t want to go slow anymore.”

His pupils dilate as his eyes search mine.

I smile. “And I don’t want you to be careful.”

It takes a second or two for that to hit him, but when it does, the world seems to tilt beneath us, and everything shifts. He crushes me with his hands, pure need radiating from his skin into mine. He fists my cover-up and yanks it over my head. My bikini top comes off next, peeled away and tossed somewhere behind him.

He takes a nipple in his mouth and I arch my back and groan.

“Is this really happening?” he murmurs, kissing my body with open-mouthed wonder.

I feel the same way, like this can’t be real, like it’s one ofthose dreams I have periodically about him, before I wake up hot and bothered and deeply frustrated.

“It’s happening,” I say, as much to myself as to him.

We’re both desperate and frantic now, but still moving so in sync it’s like we share one mind. Together, we bundle his shirt up and off his body, and then his chest is against mine, the heat of his skin in contrast to the cool breeze. He claims my mouth with deep strokes of his tongue, punctuated by sharp nips with his teeth.

Then my back presses into the railing and I squeak in pain. He pulls away, his eyebrows knit together in concern. “Are you okay?”

I gesture behind me, unable to speak. But he understands and spins us around, his back against the railing, my legs wrapped around his waist. This positions him perfectly against me, and I shift my weight to angle the pressure where I like it.

Groaning, he bites my shoulder gently. “I missed this. The way we move together.”

He grinds against me, his hands gripping my hips so tight I might have bruises later, but I don’t care. I haven’t felt this way for so, so long, and I’m shocked to realize that I’m already close to climaxing. The pressure builds and Josh seems to understand just what I need, keeping up the same pace, his breaths quickening in time with mine. My eyes fall shut as a tingling warmth spreads over me.

I’m so close. My legs are trembling but I’m hovering on the edge, teetering like a tightrope walker, and I can feel myself getting frustrated, starting to worry, thinking,Maybe I can’t do this with him, either. Maybe there really is something wrong with me.I push those thoughts away, but my arousal dims a fraction.

His hand drifts inside my bikini bottoms, and I shift my hips to guide him to the perfect spot. My breathing quickens as the entire world narrows to those few inches of my body.

Yes. This.But still I can’t quite get there. I want to—it’s just out of reach, deceptively close but slipping away, like I’m trying to catch a wisp of cloud.

It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. This is still the best thing I’ve felt in years. I guide his hand back up to my breast, and he lets out a helpless sound. He’s losing himself, his eyes lifted heavenward, hazy and unfocused.

“Josh,” I say, trying to rouse him. “Josh. Do you have any condoms?”

He shakes his head like he’s trying to make sense of what I’m saying. “Do I... Hannah. You said you didn’t want anything to happen between us until the summer was over. I wasn’t even expecting to kiss you.”

I groan. “I want you.”

He presses his forehead against mine. “I want you, too.” Then he straightens up. “I might have one in my wallet. Say a prayer that it’s not expired or ruined.”

“I’ll pray to any god that’ll deliver a condom in my hour of need.”

He chuckles, a little painfully. “Wait here. My wallet’s down in the cabin.” Then he pauses, his gaze hot as it sweeps over me. “No—come with me. I’m not fucking you against a fiberglass hull, no matter how badly I want to.”

He eases me off him so we can both stand, then takes me by the hand and tugs me belowdecks. It’s small but neat, with a kitchenette, a table, and a cushioned seating area. Josh finds his wallet, and I hold my breath.

“Hallelujah,” he says, lifting a condom out.

I launch myself at him, greedy and desperate. He wraps one arm around me, and with the other, spreads a towel on the cushion before lowering me flat on my back, coming over me.

The heat of him, the weight of him on top of me, is enough to make me nearly weep with gratitude.

“You, looking up at me,” he whispers. “Your hair spread around you... you’re the most beautiful... you’re everything. You’re perfect.”

My heart swells and lifts. But the urgency building inside me doesn’t want him to gaze too long. So, I nudge him, grinning, and say, “You’re still wearing your shorts...”

He laughs, easing up slightly as I help him tug his shorts down. Then my bikini bottoms come off. He rolls the condom on as I watch, drinking in the sight of him, the hard planes of his body. His shoulders and his abs and his quads...

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