Page 51 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

I scream.

He’s cackling with glee.

We hang in the air. For a moment. Sheer. Frozen. Terror.

WHAM!

We crash back into the water with such force that I swear my uterus just high-fived my tonsils.

Ethan lets out a victory cry. “Holy shit! Did you see that?”

I don’t respond. I’m doing a mental headcount of my limbs and internal organs. I’m not dead, and even better, my bikini is still on(suck it, Gail!)

Then it's as if Gail has some kind of supernatural, vengeful powers. A speedboat zooms by, kicking up a massive wake, and we go flying off the tube.

I’m underwater for an eternity—swirling currents have me upside down and disoriented. I have no idea which way is up. Thankfully, my life jacket pops me to the surface.

Ethan swims over, still clutching that damn phone connected with velcro to his wrist like a teen girl juggling three boyfriends.

“You okay?” he asks, and he actually looks concerned. It’s almost enough to make me forgive him. Almost.

“Superduper,” I gurgle, half the Gulf of Mexico expelling from my lungs.

“Gals, we did it! We conquered the tube of doom!” Ethan announces to his adoring audience. “Tune in tomorrow for another naughty or nice dare. This is your favorite holiday hunk, signing off!”

He ends the livestream, turns, and sees me glaring.

“Are you going to film my reaction every time you try to murder me?”

“Is that why you laid one on me earlier? Figured you’d better get your last kiss in before meeting your watery fate?”

“That little lip brush? Please. I was practicing CPR. Someone’s gotta be ready to revive your sorry ass when one of these stunts backfires. Can’t finish the movie without my leading douchebag, can I?”

“Aw, darlin’,” he coos, swimming closer. “No need to make excuses. We both know you were finally admitting your burning desires.”

“My only desire is to watch you drown,” I answer, keeping my head above the surface.

Before he can respond, a fleet of jet skis races past, churning up a wake that sends waves crashing over us. Ethan’s arms are around me in an instant, pulling me close as we bob in the water like awkward buoys. Our eyes lock…

And then he kisses me.

Holy mother of mistletoe.

His dynamite lips taste of salt water and sin.

My fingers dive into his wet hair, nails raking his scalp as the kiss turns ravenous. He groans into my mouth, the vibration shooting straight to my core. Andoh my fuck, his lips. Ethan is doing this mouth-orgasm-inducing thing with his tongue that has me seeing stars. I can barely breathe, and I don’t care. I want more.

I want his lips on my neck.

On my breasts.

In between my legs.

I’m drowning in him, and it feels so fucking good.

He grabs my ass, pulling me closer, as if he can’t get enough either.

I wrap my legs around his waist, and the ache between my thighs grows. Especially when his hardening cock presses against my clit through the thin fabric of my bikini. My vagina twitches, begging for more. His length is pressing, rubbing, teasing me while waves rhythmically bob us up and down… up and down.

---