“Give me the hose.” I hold out my hand.
She shrugs, feigning innocence. “I didn’t know the window was down. Water can be dried. Relax.”
I stalk toward her, because she’s the one with the weapon. “Give me…the hose.”
She purses her lips, clearly trying to hide a smile. “Come and get it.”
I inch toward her, knowing she’s going to spray me, but maybe if I’m quick I can—
All of a sudden, she swings the gun toward me and sprays, the cold water hitting my arms, hands, and making my shirt stick to my chest.
I growl, lunging for her, and she squeals, throwing the gun at me and yanking open the back door. I pick up the gun from where it dropped and swing around the door, seeing her lying on the back seat, her head arched up, breathing hard, and holding out her hands in defense as she watches me.
She licks her lips, out of breath with a hint of a smile. “Don’t, please,” she begs. “I’m sorry.”
Her body shakes with a silent, nervous laugh, but I can’t move. The sight of her there on the seat, her breasts rising and falling and her thighs slightly spread with one foot on the floor and the other leg arched up, sends my body reeling.
Jesus.
Sweat—or water, I’m not sure—glistens across her chest, and a blush covers her cheeks.
I step up and set the hose, still locked on, onto the roof. The water spills in a wide, steady stream down the front windshield.
I hold her eyes. “You got me wet,” I point out. “Fair’s fair.”
Her breathing falters, and she stares at me, frozen. Will she run away?
I lean down, bowing my head into the cab and hovering over her body, holding myself up with my hands. Her eyes flash to the windshield; she’s probably nervous we can be seen. But the water distorts the view, creating a blur.
She arches up on her hands, meeting me halfway as her hot, little breaths fan across my lips. Her eyes fall to my mouth.
“What does it feel like?” she asks quietly, reaching a timid finger out and touching my lip piercing.
I groan, challenging her. “You tell me.”
She locks eyes with me as if scared, but then her gaze falls again to the piercing. Opening her mouth just slightly, she darts out her tongue and flicks the ring.
I groan again, unable to keep my eyes from falling shut. The wet heat from that small spot filters across my face, down my neck, and swoops low in my stomach, making my fingers dig into the leather seats.
Her breath hits my skin again, and I open my eyes to see hers watching me intently as she goes back for more. Her tongue slowly traces a trail over the ring before she darts out and bites my lip around it, pulling the whole thing in her mouth.
My skin burns and tingles everywhere, and I nearly lose the fucking strength to hold myself up. Her eyes stay open, watching me pant and groan at everything she’s doing. She sucks and bites and licks and tugs as I just hover there, not moving and not kissing back as I let her explore.
A horn honks, but I barely register it.
“Masen,” she whispers, running her lips over the ring, again and again, and snaking a hand around the back of my neck.
Masen.
I reach out and splay a hand across her stomach, finally taking her in my hands. I want her to say my name, dammit. I want to hear my name from her lips right now.
“Yo, idiot!” A car horn honks again, and I blink, realizing someone is here. “Where’s my girl at?”
Oh, shit.
Ryen pulls away, hearing Trey’s voice, too, and stares up at me, a hint of fear in her eyes.
I glance out the window, seeing the blue blur of his Camaro sitting in front of the bay. I can’t see him, though, so he can’t see us through the water. If he could, I’m sure I would’ve felt him before I saw him.