Page 36 of Wreck Me

“Nope. Now the fun begins. Ever skinny-dipped?”

“Who hasn’t skinny-dipped?”

“Well? Have you?”

“I’m not skinny-dipping, Finn. We’ll get caught, and that’s the last thing I need. I can see the headlines now.”

He raises his eyebrows in a challenge, and I know the words before he says them, the bastard.

“Dare you.”

Reluctantly, I stand, raising my arm over my head and grabbing the back of my shirt, pulling it off and adding it to the pile accumulating in the grass.

“That’s what I thought.”

“You’re a fucker, you know that?”

“If it gets you naked and in that water, I’m okay with it.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. Finn is so calm and collected—my opposite. I may seem like I’m always up for a good time, and usually I am, but that’s all a facade. The pressure I feel riding my ass constantly that I’m going to fuck up and ruin my family’s reputation—make the wrong deal, say the wrong thing—is immense. I’m constantly anxious, and it’s well hidden.Running and sex are the only things keeping me from losing my mind.

The sun having long set, there’s not a soul in sight, and my shorts are discarded, leaving me in just my formfitting boxer briefs. Then I’m following Finn’s bare ass as we wade into the fucking freezing water. We’re hidden on the opposite side of a rock formation that juts out into the ocean, separating two sections of the water. The moon sits up high in the sky, illuminating the water just enough to see where I’m going.

Finn dips under the surface, and even though I know it’s coming, I can’t brace for the feeling of him grabbing my leg and pulling me hard underneath. I jerk up, choking on the salty liquid flooding my lungs.

“You’re a bastard!” I say through coughs. “Haven’t you seen Jaws? We’re practically in Massachusetts.”

“We’re in Maine, but there are definitely great white sharks here.”

“Why the fuck are we in the water at night then, idiot?”

“’Cause I wanted to get you out of your head.”

I stare at him for a moment before he swims close to me and places his hands on my shoulders. We’re both standing, the water up to our chests, and while I know we’re out here completely alone, nothing but the moonlight casting down on us, the fireflies flitting around on the grass and under the trees, nerves still race down my spine.

As if he can tell, Finn’s hands curl around my neck and shoulder, hauling me to him. I gasp at the contact, his legs wrapping around my waist, his taut stomach mere inches from mine.

We’re face-to-face, sharing air, and nothing has felt easier. His long eyelashes are beaded with water, the blue of his irises so stormy in the light of the moon, but there’s no missing thelust-filled haze that clouds them. Hell, I feel it, too. I always feel it.

“Finn . . .” I plead, my voice thick with warning.

“Shh, don’t think. Just . . .” his eyes flick down to my lips before his breath hitches. With his eyes on mine, he pecks me once. Just a soft press of his lips. My breathing starts to pick up, my heart racing in my chest. “Just don’t think.”

“I can’t help it . . .” I confess.

He just shakes his head and says softly under his breath, “Carter, let me help you . . . like you help me.” The last four words are whispered so low that I almost miss them. I have half a mind to ask him what he means, but I don’t.

Strong hands move from my shoulders to the back of my neck, one lightly rubbing up and down the base. Instinctively, I pull him closer, putting us nearly flush. I know he can feel my hard cock pressing against him. Based on the warmth radiating from him, I know I feel his. Nothing but the thin, wet fabric of my briefs separates our dicks.

Hell, I love the feeling of being this close to him. I move one of my hands languidly across his hip and thigh, over the globe of his ass and back again while we both struggle to steady our breathing. Even under the water, his skin is so rough under my palms, the thick muscles of his thighs tight and masculine as I grip him, massaging the pads of my fingers into him.

“Tell me what you want,” I whisper.

He answers by licking his lips, a slow swipe across the plush, peach-colored bottom lip, before he descends on my own. The kiss is soft at first, like he’s feeling me out, and I don’t blame him. I know I’ve given him enough whiplash to leave him battered. But he still keeps coming back for me. Maybe I had it all wrong and he’s a masochist.

But then a deep, desperate moan escapes from him, and he opens to meet my tongue. I respond by pulling back slightlyand nipping at his bottom lip, getting him to moan a little louder.Fuck. These sounds are killing me, going straight to my cock. He keeps his hands on my neck, holding me where he wants me as he uses his thighs to lift himself a bit and finds a rhythm, grinding his hard cock up and down across my length.

I let Finn use me however he wants, releasing his mouth and peppering his neck with kisses, licks, and nips. I drag one hand up the smooth expanse of his ripped stomach, over every ab that he’s worked hard to earn, until I reach his bare chest, my finger rubbing circles over his nipple until it pebbles under my touch and the cool water.

Finn continues his pace, grinding us together, my hard dick straining against the wet fabric of my briefs, aching to feel him touch me where I need it most.

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