Page 86 of Maybe You

His smile is still in place, eyes moving to the left and to the right, looking for a way out. It’s my turn to send a smug grin his way. I’m a few feet away when I launch myself toward him. He tries to take a left, but I anticipate the move and block him with my body.

The game of tag turns into something that closely resembles a wrestling match. He tries to dunk me, and I try to dunk him in return. We move away from the shallow end and back to the deeper part, right on each other’s heels.

We’re both breathless and wheezing with laughter as we chase each other. The air echoes with shouts and the sound of water splashing around us.

I don’t know how much time has passed, only that I feel lighter than air, and when I look at Sutton, all I see is pure, carefree joy in his face as we laugh and laugh and laugh until my stomach muscles hurt.

He catches me in the middle of the pool and pulls me against him, my body flush against his.

And the laughter slowly peters out.

His chest is rising and falling rapidly against mine.

Our eyes lock.

The carefree joy in his eyes changes. It burns up in the intense heat of his gaze until only lust remains.

Sutton’s fingers sink into the wet strands of hair on the back of my head. His other arm goes around me from behind, pulling me closer until I can feel his heart hammer against mine through his chest.

He slams his mouth down on mine. Our tongues clash at almost the exact moment our lips meet. The kiss is openmouthed and wild, an edge of desperation coloring it. I spread my fingers over Sutton’s wide shoulders before I wrap my arms around his neck. His hand moves lower until it covers one of my ass cheeks, and I wrap my legs around his waist.

And all the while, we keep kissing, mouths fused together, my tongue in his mouth and his in mine.

My dick is rock hard, pressed against his equally hard cock between our stomachs, and things are very quickly getting out of hand, but I can’t seem to stop and pull away to be reasonable about this.

My mind is a riot of emotions, and my chest is tight with need.

He swallows every moan and gasp, and everything becomes almost too much just around the time Sutton tears his mouth away and buries his mouth in my neck. He murmurs things I don’t understand, and I don’t ask what they are.

“We should get out of here,” he says in a strained voice. “Right the fuck now.”

“I have to finish work.” I sound dazed, like I’ve just been woken up and am now trying and failing to come back to reality.

He swears, a long and colorful string of words that makes me grin like a lunatic. Then he sighs, squeezes my ass once more, and makes a face.

“This should be fun,” he says. “Can’t say I’ve ever wielded a pressure cleaner with a hard-on, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“You can use your hands.” I laugh and sputter when he tries to dunk me again.

“Smartass,” he says once I’ve come up for air.

He smiles. Not smug. Not cocky. Just kind of… affectionate. And somewhere deep inside, so far below that only faint echoes reach the surface, I realize the affectionate smiles might be much worse than the smug, cocky ones.

A hell of a lot more dangerous, too.

SIXTEEN

Sutton practically shoves me into his apartment, and once we’re inside, he slams the door shut with his foot and pushes me against the wall. His mouth comes down hard on mine, almost like he’s been starving for me, even if it’s barely been an hour since he kissed me in the pool. His hair is still damp at the ends.

His hands wander up and down me everywhere he can reach. Back. Hips. Ass. Shoulders. Neck. Hair. And all the while, he keeps kissing me until I’m breathless with pure, undiluted lust.

Then we’re moving. Through the apartment and into his bedroom. Once we’re inside, the door gets the same slammed-shut-with-his-foot treatment as earlier. I don’t know why he bothers. It’s not like there’s anybody else here, but it sort of feels like him shutting us away from the rest of the world, and I like that.

His lips only leave mine for a moment as he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head before he runs both hands under my shirt and pushes it higher, up to my chest and then off altogether.

“Pants. Off,” he says in a commanding tone.

I slump against the wall while he follows his own order and admire the smooth golden body he reveals to me. Every inch is cut. Every inch is perfect.

---