Page 74 of Hate Wrecked

I resurfaced behind him, climbing his body. My breasts pressed to the hard lines of his back. “Body. Guard,” I whispered into his ear.

Rowan spun, grabbed me. “I don’t think your boyfriend would like this,” he seethed.

This is how we danced now: on the fringes of our fractured friendship, his profession, and my desire to bend boundaries. It was a dangerous age for me.

I wrapped my legs around him, felt his hardness slip past, and between my legs, I squeezed my things. “Be careful,” he warned.

I placed my hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes. “Or?”

“Or I’ll find a new job.”

My heart beat fast. I didn’t want that. I always wanted him there with me, watching and bearing witness to my life. “Okay,” I surrendered, unlocking my legs and swimming away a bit. We swam in silence for a bit, and then I spoke. “I’m sorry for being…distant. There’s just been a lot going on.”’

“I know,” Rowan said, jaw tense. “Relationships are complex.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a relationship. I don’t know what it is.” Most days, I didn’t care, but it was an obsession I couldn’t walk away from. Barry fed me enough to keep me wanting more. I didn’t know if I wanted him or if I didn’t want him tonotwant me.

“Have you asked him?” Rowan asked, and I could hear his disdain for Barry in his tone.

“He says I have a lot of growing up to do,” I remarked.

Rowan grunted out a laugh. “Then maybe he shouldn’t have pursued someone ten years younger than him—a teenager.”

I swam around him, circling him like he was my prey.

“Do you miss hanging out with me?” I asked, coming closer.

Rowan spun, keeping his eyes on me. “Yes.”

I smiled as I swam to the side of the pool, where my drink was. Without a word, I climbed the stairs on the shallow end, the moon lighting me up. I took a seat on the steps, my bottom in the water, my breasts exposed. The drink was sweating. Vodka and soda fizzled as they went down. I arched my back as I drank. And when I set the glass down, Rowan’s eyes were on me.

“I said I wanted us to be friends. You dismissed it. Said you wanted me to be your fucking bodyguard, but sometimes I think you want me to get fired,” Rowan said, swimming toward me. I wished he would join me in drinking. But he never did. Straight as an arrow, except when it came to me. I grabbed the glass again, pressing the side to my breast, looking down at my work, at my nipple going hard.

Rowan walked to the steps, crawling beside me. He grabbed the glass from me and shocked me as he drank down the last of it, brushing past me to place the empty glass on the poolside. “What the fuck are you doing, Riley?” he whispered, mouth near my breast. I leaned back onto my elbows.

“I was hurt when I said all that,” I whispered, watching his eyes. “Maybe I want to know if you miss me.”

He was hungry, needing something from me. I grazed his arm with my fingernails, and he leaned down, running his tongue along my breast, the one the glass never touched, using his tongue to make that nipple hard, too. He moved out of the water more, his hand cupping the other breast, kneading it. I leaned back, gasping as he sucked and pressed. “I want you to teach me everything,” I whispered

Rowan’s mouth was hot on my body. “So he can reap the reward?”

“What are friends for?” I begged, grabbing his head and pressing his mouth back to me. Rowan came out of the water, holding my waist and carrying me out. He placed me on the towel I’d laid out, rough against my skin.

“What are you—” I gasped just as he gripped my thighs, pushing them up, then apart.

“Teaching you a lesson.”

“What’s that?” I asked, my voice all want and whisper.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he warned. I let out a breath as his mouth came down to my center, warm and hot as his tongue licked me.

I’d never had someone do that. He wanted to win another war, another first Barry begged for, and I used it as a power move when I really enjoyed Rowan’s mouth there.

Rowan spreads my thighs, licked up and down, his mouth covering me as he sucked my clit. I cried out, my hand reaching up to cup my own breast. “Does this feel good?” he rasped, and I nodded.

I wanted him to fuck me, claim me as his. I wanted to run away with him to some fantasy in my head—the Scottish shore, anywhere no one can find us. But it was all a dream.

And the reality was this: I was desperate for him, moaning when his fingers filled me, pumping into me as his tongue flicked and fluttered.

---