“It’ll be cold,” Maisey warns, setting her soda can in the other cupholder.
“Once we jump in, it’ll be fine,” I say with a confidence I don’t necessarily feel.
She’s right. That water will be damn cold. It’ll be a shock to my system. Just her splashing me in the face shook me completely.
I grab hold of her hand and help her join me on the tiny deck at the back of the boat. We stand there, our weight tipping the boat, our gazes meeting for a brief moment before her lips part and she says, “We’ll jump on three.”
“One,” I say, squeezing her hand.
“Two,” she adds, blowing out a harsh breath.
“Three!” we both scream at the same time as we jump into the lake.
The icy temperature takes my breath away as I plunge into the water, my fingers still curled around Maisey’s. We sink and sink, me taking her along for the ride since my weight is pulling her down. And then I’m dragging her back up, our feet kicking, our heads popping above the water simultaneously, both of us gasping for air.
“Oh my God!” she’s yelling, pushing the tangle of wet hair away from her face. “It is. So. Cold!”
I pull her to me so our bodies collide, our feet churning around each other, our chests bumping. She sucks in a breath, her gaze meeting mine, her expression open. Tempting.
Leaning in, I give her a quick kiss, her lips warm despite the temperature.
When I pull away, she’s blinking up at me, her lips parted, our legs still moving, keeping us in place. “Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to.” I touch her cheek, her skin frigid, though I can still feel the warmth lingering just below the surface. “I want to do so much more than kiss you, Maise.”
“Oh.” She’s still blinking at me, appearing confused, and at first, I wonder if I made a mistake.
But then she’s letting go of my hand, her arms circling around my neck, her body snug against mine. A perfect fit. I slip my arm about her waist, pinning her to me, knowing we only have a few seconds before we’ll start sinking and suddenly her mouth is there.
On mine.
Kissing me.
I return the kiss with all the pent-up hunger I’ve felt for her since the moment I saw her at the grocery store. Though it goes further than that. All of this hunger and need coursing through my body goes back years. To that last moment I had with her, in the cab of my trunk the night before I broke up with her.
When I kissed her freely because she was mine.
That word is running through my brain right now as our lips part and our tongues tangle.
Mine.
It repeats, keeps the rhythm of my heartbeat as I devour her.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
I take the kiss deeper and she wraps her legs around my waist, anchoring herself to me. I start to go under, struggling to keep above water without letting go of her, and when we break the kiss, she’s laughing.
“I don’t want to drown you,” she murmurs, her face so close I can see the water droplets clinging to her eyelashes. The tiny scar on the left side of her chin. The rosy lushness of her mouth.
I want to taste that mouth again. I want to feel her mouth on my skin.
I want to feel her everywhere.
“Let’s get back on the boat,” I suggest, reluctantly loosening my hold on her.