Page 52 of Faking Summer
Then, without warning, he lowered his mouth to mine. His lips were soft and demanding as I closed my eyes to the sensation that ignited every nerve ending. I lost myself in the moment, my hands finding their way to his hair, fingers tangling in its dark strands. His muscular chest pressed against mine, and I couldn't help but archmy back to feel more of him. I was desperate to feel how hard he was against me.
Our kiss deepened, and I breathed him in, every inhale even more addicting than the last. It was as if I'd been craving this moment for years, and now that it was here, I couldn't get enough. His hands roamed my body, leaving a trail of fire as they explored, but somehow, it wasn’t enough—I wanted more of his touch, more of him.
He pressed his heavy erection against me, rubbing it against my clit through the water. I moaned into his mouth, digging my fingers into his firm ass, my body needing more.
“Spread your legs,” he whispered, and I did as he said.
He slid his hand into my panties, and his fingers trailed through my center. I arched into him with a gasp as he plunged two fingers deep inside me. The water added an electrifying sensation to his touch, making every stroke explosive.
"Even in this water," he murmured, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate movements that made my toes curl with pleasure. "You're so fucking wet."
"That feels so good," I gasp, my voice barely above a whisper.
His mouth moved down my neck, nibbling and sucking my sensitive skin. I was lost in a haze of pleasure, my hips grinding against his hand as his long fingers curled deep to reach that delicious spot. Tension was building in my core, my pussy clenching around him as I got closer to the edge. His thumb pressed against my clit, circling faster, and I came with a cry, my body shuddering, my pussy pulsing around his fingers as he carried me through it, drawing out every last wave of pleasure as I threw my head back.
But, oh no, I wasn’t done with him. My hand shot out, grabbing his wrist as he tried to pull away. “No,” I whispered, my voice raw, my eyes locking with his. “Don’t stop.”
He smirked, his gaze dark and hungry as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re insatiable,” he growled, his fingers slipping back inside me, deeper this time. “Should have known how fucking greedy this pussy would be.”
I arched into his touch, biting back a moan. "And I should’ve known how filthy your mouth is," I shot back, my voice trembling as I trailed my thumb over his bottom lip.
“You have no idea, Chaos.”
“Put it to good use then,” I dared him.
“Careful what you wish for,” he said before lowering himself under the water, kissing my hip then trailing his mouth down until his tongue replaced his thumb on my clit. I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair as he licked and sucked, his fingers fucking me in time with the rhythm of his tongue. The water paired with the pleasure was overwhelming. A wave of heat and need had me arching off the concrete steps, my thighs clamped around his head. But just as I was about to tip over the edge again, he pulled away, leaving me panting and gasping for breath as a deep, powerful voice shattered the moment. "Am I interrupting something?"
My head jerked up in a panic. Reese's father, Mr. Carrington, stood over us. He was rocking a tailored suit, his hands nonchalantly buried in his pockets.
"Just a night swim, Dad." Reese's casual dismissal of the situation didn't match the panic I was feeling. I wanted to hide. I was horrified, hoping he somehow couldn’t see me.
He swam towards the pool's edge, his movements fluid as he grabbed a towel. "You know Caroline Matthews, don't you?"
"Matthews," his dad repeated, and his gaze turned to me. "Right, one of the helpers on the committee."
One of the helpers? I just happened to be the president, and the person who helped their entire season run incredibly smoothly, but what did that matter? His voice held so much judgment that, for a moment, I felt transparent under his scrutinizing gaze. An uneasy silence settled, punctuated only by the soft lapping of pool water against my skin. Reese's father remained an immovable fixture, his shadow almost growing darker as the seconds passed by.
"And what are you doing here?" Reese asked him, before handing me the towel. "Didn’t expect you back this week."
"I had to meet a client tonight. Figured I'd stop by before heading back to the beach house. My client happened to mention he saw you getting coffee with Cindee." His eyes locked onto Reese, hungry for a response. "Did you meet with her?"
A muscle twitched in Reese's jaw. "Fuck, not this again," he muttered, tilting his head back—his words carried the weight of a history I could feel but not understand.
"Watch your mouth," his father snapped. "Were you there or not?"
Reese pushed himself up from the pool, water racing down his muscles that glinted in the moonlight. He sat on the edge of the pool, and his presence seemed to command the very water to hush its gentle noises. "Yes, Dad," he said. "What are you gonna do? Ground me?"
His father remained cold and unflinching at his sarcastic words. "Damnit, Reese," he responded, words sharp and final. "You will not go see her again, do you hear me? You don't give that psychotic woman the time of day."
My heart hammered in my chest, an erratic beat echoing the turmoil happening around me. I had always been a little outspoken, defiant, sassy even. And right now I felt the strong urge to defend Reese. And considering the weight of the situation, it seemed wrong not to say anything. I had to speak up.
"Shouldn't that be his choice?" I asked, gently. "I mean, she did a bad thing, but at the end of the day, he should decide if he wants to talk to her, right? It should be his decision."
Mr. Carrington's gaze snapped to me, piercing through the darkness. There was a stillness to him, an eerie calm. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught it—the faintest hint of a smirk on Reese’s lips.
Mr. Carrington didn’t acknowledge my words. "I'm making this clear right now—stay away. I'm not telling you again." He paused, his eyes flicking to me with a glint of disapproval before returning to his son. "And for fuck’s sake, wear a condom tonight." With thatfinal, biting command, he adjusted his tie—a meticulous, calculated movement—and strode out without another word.
I exhaled slowly, the tension seeping from my shoulders. Reese's laughter broke the heavy stillness as he leaned back against the edge of the pool.
