He was a masterpiece. He was a mystery. He was a thousand contradictions. He was her boss, Curtis James, the Trust Fund Baby, all the bad names she’d ever called him, but at the moment, he was also hers.
He swam past her and circled around easily. He was hardly even out of breath. Whatever cardio regime he was on, she needed to get on as well.
“If you think swimming out here is going to deter me, you’re very wrong. Even the leaches and all the other stuff in here are not going to make me back off.”
“Leaches!” She gasped. The water was fairly deep and cold, and she hadn’t felt many weeds on her plunge in. Just a little bit of sand and then she was off, gliding through the water. She tried not to imagine what nightmares the lake held. Fish. Oh god, what if one of them touches me? She told herself not to panic, just so that she didn’t drown in the deep, inky waters.
“There are leaches,” he warned. “Seriously. But if you get one, don’t worry. Over the years, I’ve become fairly adept at pulling them off.”
“I’d say you better watch your junk then,” she snapped. “But it’s so small they’d have trouble finding it.”
Curtis laughed too, a deep, easy sound that made her feel like her insides were being tickled by a bunch of feathers she’d just swallowed. “Says the woman who just had the best orgasm of her life. Orgasms. Plural.”
“You’re very sure of yourself. I’ve had good orgasms before.”
“With your hand maybe.”
“Shut up.” She splashed water at him and missed.
He laughed again and swam easily up to her. When he gripped her around the waist and pulled her into him, she didn’t resist. She was a little afraid of drowning now that her limbs had grown tired and the shore was a surprising distance away. He was like an inferno pressed up against her. Her nipples scraped his chest, very pointy since she was cold from the surprisingly cold water. It was summer. Weren’t lakes supposed to be warm?
Lexi reasoned that if he was wrapped around her, maybe the leaches would skip her and go straight for the larger target. One could always hope.
Before she could say anything snarky to ruin the moment she tried to tell herself she didn’t want, he kissed her. He kissed her hard, totally breathless. He was like liquid fire pouring into her mouth, flooding the rest of her with heat. It was only a minute before she couldn’t feel the lake anymore. Probably because she didn’t care.
She locked a leg around Curtis’ hip and he didn’t even sink. She locked the other leg around his waist and he still didn’t sink. He went right on kissing her, his hard-on drilling into her stomach. Her core throbbed, wanting him somewhere else. Wanting him buried deep inside of her.
“I’m pretty sure if we continue this,” she gasped after tearing her lips from his, “that I’ll get some weird infection up my who-ha.”
“A who-ha?” He laughed, that glorious, rich, deep baritone laugh. “Alright then. I’ll race you back.”
He took off, treading water easily while she spluttered her way back to shore. He didn’t let her win. He beat her by a mile and stood on shore taunting her, completely naked. She couldn’t let herself look at him until she made it, or she was pretty sure she’d sink to the bottom for real.
By the time she stalked out of the water, she was completely out of breath. She must have looked in need of some kind of mouth to mouth revival because Curtis hauled her in against his hard length. He kissed what little breath she had left, eating her moans and protests and the affirmations ripped from the bottom of her soul.
They fell to the sand together, their lower legs in the water, in a tangled heap of limbs. She wrapped her legs around his hips and when his cock pressed against her entrance, she didn’t deny him. Instead, she lifted her hips and let his weight press her into the sand. She could feel herself sinking, sinking, her head leaving an indent on the sand. She didn’t actually care. All that she cared about was having Curtis inside of her.
Even still, she couldn’t help herself. “You’re going to get sand inside of me!”
“The only thing getting inside of you is me.”
“Better check your dick for leaches then.”
“I already did.”
Curtis tucked his hands under her ass and lifted her clean off the beach. There was zero chance for sand or leaches and a hundred percent chance of her dying from the pleasure. He filled her in a single swift stroke. He thrust hard, setting a punishing rhythm right from the start. It was urgent. Desperate. Hungry. Raw. And freaking perfect. It hurt, to be so full, the way he stretched her, to take all of the punishing strokes, but she was right there, moving with him, digging her heels into his ass. She bucked and writhed and let him piston into her until he drove her straight over the edge.