Page 86 of Girls Will Be Girls
The strap flings off my wet hair for the third time. “We should’ve put these on on the boat.”
“Want me to do it?” He reaches for my snorkel.
“That’s okay.” The strap bounces off my hair again. “I just need to stay more stationary rather than bobbing up and down like a buoy.”
“Come on.” He edges closer as his fingers slide along my waist. “I’ll hold you up while you do it.”
Apart from my never-ending bobbing, I freeze when his other hand finds my hip and he pulls me toward him.
“Put your legs around me.” He says casually. “I’ll be the buoy for the both of us.”
Clearly loving his hands on me a little too much, I do as he says without argument. My legs move closer to him, and he pulls me up so I’m wrapped around his waist. A part of me wants to slide lower and rock into him to see if he reacts to me, the other part of me is acutely aware that dry humping in public probably isn’t the most romantic move I could spring on him.
One of his hands is on my waist, and his other splays against my hip where his fingers dip to touch my bikini. The small touch on my ass is sending shockwaves through every one of my synapses.
I push down the fluttering within me long enough to get my goggles on and resting on my forehead. He smirks again, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me, before tapping his fingers twice against my hip and releasing me.
He pulls his own snorkel on with zero effort and grins at me. “Ready?”
I nod, but feel a little lightheaded.
Lou has this way of making me feel everything tenfold. Good or bad, aroused or annoyed, every sensation he draws out of me is so much stronger than anything else. That thought makes it hard not to imagine and wish for his hands to explore my body even more.
I plunge my reddening cheeks into the water, forcing myself to focus on something else, as we leisurely swim around the bay. The water is so clear you can see everything. Including his corded muscles, shoulders bulging with each stroke, hands pulling me next to him. Even his grin when I scream underwater after accidentally touching a mossy rock with my foot.
We swim around for ages, following little fish and seeing how far we can dive.
When we bob back to the surface and rip our goggles off, his hands find my waist again, his fingers tracing my slippery skin.
“Fuck, this water is amazing.” He beams.
“Lucky you came today.” I smile back, catching my breath.
“Lucky.” He smiles, fingers pressing into me.
His eyes never leave mine as we bob there. I fight the blush forcing its way onto my skin from his stare.
“Float with me.” He says, taking my hand.
We lay on our backs, floating on the surface, our fingers intertwining like we’re otters trying to stay together.
“Question game?” I ask.
He lets out a small laugh. “Hit me.”
“When did you learn to sail?”
He rubs his thumb along mine. “When I was a kid.”
I rub his thumb right back. “Have you always loved it?”
“I have, yeah.” He pauses. “I like that it’s a team thing. You’re not competing against anyone.”
“Apart from the sea.” I joke.
“Right.” He laughs.
“And death.”
