Page 25 of Unlocked Dive
“It was a mistake.”
“You’re so full of shit.” I press into him, wedging my thigh between his. “Stop pretending you don’t want this as badly as I do.”
“Echo, I’ve crossed so many lines already. If I’mpretending,I’m doing a terrible fucking job of it.” He brings his hand to my jaw and brushes his thumb over my lips. “But Reggie is expecting me—paying me—to give her an unbiased evaluation. How the hell am I supposed to dothatjob if we start having sex?”
“Who cares? The evaluation is fucked anyway. You already know I’m not good enough for her school anymore.”
“I don’t know that. There’s still plenty of time.”
God, he actually believes it. That somehow, he can still salvage my future. And all of a sudden, it clicks into place.He’s not trying to reject me.
The salvation he’s holding out for isn’t his, it’smine.
I drop my arms and step back. Time to try a different tactic.
“You know when I don’t feel fucked up?” I ask. “When you touch me. When you look at me like something worthy of wanting.”
“Youareworthy of wanting. When I’m around you, all Idois want.”
“Then give me something. Prove it, and I’ll show you.”
For a long moment, he searches my face, and I try to hide my creeping fear. Finally, he leans in until his lips brush my ear, his words low and feral.
“The whole time I was jerking you off, all I could think about was taking you to bed and spreading you open with my tongue and fingers until I had you begging for my cock.”
Well, fuck.
“And you say I have the filthy mouth,” I gasp, heat thrilling over my skin and buzzing like static at the base of my spine.
“I love your filthy mouth,” he admits. “And it’s your turn.”
I haven’t been on the rope with a hard-on in years, and for a second, I’m fourteen again, with Jason Kase’s voice in my ear telling me,“The opposite-side climb-over gives better friction.”But hey, it’s the easiest way into the unlocked dive anyway.
I do three of the inverted climbs because fuck it—it feels good, the rough weave dragging over my keyed-up cock with every hook and pull. When I slip into the prep position, I throw a smirk over my shoulder and catch him staring at my ass with the rope wedged tight between my cheeks.
Don’t think. Just do it.
Be Echo.
I dive, my right hand releasing above my head and finding the tail between my legs like a thousand times before, my abs contracting to control the drop.
“If you let go, I’ll stop.”
I don’t let go. My eyes find Byrd’s, and my relief looks like pride in the reflection there.
I wrap a leg and do a fireman’s slide to the mat. He’s there when I land, wrapping his arms around me and dropping a kiss into my hair.
“Is it enough?” I ask, pressing my face onto the slope of his shoulder.
“Yes,” he says. “Tonight, it’s enough.”
“Does it change anything?”
“It shouldn’t.” He sighs and pulls away. But underneath the reluctance is his faltering resolve.
“Why not?” I don’t want it to end. I want to soak up this small moment of triumph and turn it into sweat and spit and slick, tangled limbs. Not to break him, but to give him back a piece of something as sacred as the feel of the rope sure in my hands.
“Have you ever just taken what you wanted?” I ask, as if I can’t already guess the answer. “Just for yourself, and fuck the consequences?”
