Lake Redstone

by Hollyfield, J. D.

  Oh my god! My hands work up his chest, pushing his soaked hair away form his face. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, just a scratch or two,” he says, wading his feet to keep us afloat.

  His answer doesn’t assure me. “You could have a concussion. You could have drowned jumping in here.” More panic.

  He tugs me even closer against him. “I wouldn’t have. I had other plans,” he says.

  “And what was that?”

  “Saving you.”

  His reply comes with a big bang. If I were on solid ground, I’d be thrown off my axis. His willingness to risk his own life to save me takes the breath right from my lungs. I crush my lips to his, releasing everything swirling inside me, giving it to him, showing him every ounce of emotion I feel. I wouldn’t be surprised if lightening crashed across the night’s sky, drowning us in the intensity of this passionate kiss. He reciprocates, giving as much as he takes. His grip around me tightens as our lips continue their assault, struggling to stay afloat. I wouldn’t care if we sunk to the bottom so long as he never stops.

  “Wait, shine it over there—you have to be kidding me!” Katie hollers as a flashlight beams down on us. “We thought you two were drowning! Get the hell in this damn boat before we all die!” A life raft is thrown into the water, and Jim and I separate. We share a look, no words needed. The lust in our eyes and thick aura around us scream exactly what we want to say. We both want this.

  He lets me climb up first, and Poppy immediately wraps a towel around me. Jim is up next, but then jumps off onto the dock. “No! Where are you going? Let’s go!”

  “Shhh…hold on. I’m going to untie their boat so they can’t come after us.”

  Best kisser on the planet and super smart when in a life or death situation.

  He disappears onto the large boat, causing panic to shoot up my spine. We all stare into the night, catching glimpses of his silhouette as he moves back and forth, until finally popping back onto our boat. Mick doesn’t waste another second. He pulls out, then throttles in the direction of the lake house.

  Making our way up the small hill that separates the lake and the house, a massive sense of relief washes through me. As I hit the bottom patio, I shake out my tank top, water dripping all over the floor. Poppy waves her phone, breaking away from the crowd. “I’m going to call the local police. Let them in on what a lunatic they have living on their lake,” she says before disappearing.

  The chilled night air combined with my wet clothes have me cold and soaked to the bone. “Oh my god, I need to go change.” There’s a shiver in my voice as I excuse myself to head inside.

  As the patio door swings shut, I hear Jim’s voice. “Yeah, I’m gonna do the same.” I peer over my shoulder as he walks through the door I entered moments before. My blood starts to warm, my heartrate kicking into gear. I’m not sure why I become nervous, but I quickly find the stairs and race up two at a time. My palms become sweaty, and my hands tremble lightly. What the heck is wrong with me? I’m acting like I’ve never been alone with a boy before. That’s ’cause he’s not a boy. That kiss, that strength—he’s all man. I rush onto the top platform and throw myself into the bedroom, debating locking the door like a chicken. The sounds of his feet hitting the stairs has my nerves jammed in my throat. “Son of a biscuit…” I spin around in circles, unsure of what to do. Start changing? Pretend I’m sleeping? The crazy part of me measures the gap between the floor and bed to see if I can hide under it.

  A shift in the air has my skin prickling the moment he walks into the room. The aura around us is so powerful, I grab for my bag to keep myself steady. I peek over my shoulder, an unevenness to my voice. “I’m just going to change. You didn’t need to come with me.”

  Excitement and nervousness crash into me at the sound of the door closing behind him. “What makes you think I’m coming with you? I’m wet from saving your life. I also need to change.”

  Jesus all mighty, he sure is wet too. His drenched shirt is stuck to him, accentuating his muscled chest, his tattoos on full display through the soaked material. I catch myself staring and rip my eyes away and start to aimlessly dig in my bag.

  “I hardly consider that saving my life. I learned how to swim a long time ago.” Digging through random shirts, I bide my time to cover the complete lie in my eyes. I may know how to swim, but the panic rushing through me was like an anchor wrapped around my legs, sucking me deeper into the water. As high and mighty as I want to portray myself, I would have been in deep doodoo if he hadn’t jumped in and rescued me.

  “You sure? That kiss told me you were pretty thankful I jumped in for you.” My eyes squeeze shut. Our lips crushing together in the heat of the moment. The feeling of our hearts slamming into each other’s. I fully turn, unaware of his silent steps. He’s so close now, I fear he can sense my entire body buzzing, see my heart beating at a rapid pace. He takes a small step closer, leaving only a hairsbreadth between us. I panic and give him my back, hiding my flushed face, and rummage through my bag. Two hands press against the flesh of my hips. Any response I had for him lodges in my throat. His soaked shirt presses to my back, and his warm breath assaults my flesh where my neck meets my shoulder. A hitched breath is stolen from my lungs as his lips make contact with my skin.

  “Wha—What are you doing?” What a ridiculous question. I know damn well what he’s doing. And it’s killing me not to man up—or woman up—and whip around and offer every single part of me. He doesn’t jump to the occasion to answer me. Instead, his grip tightens. His lips glide along my skin, hitting the top of my shoulder blade. I soundlessly beg him for more. His tongue on my flesh. His grazed teeth against my skin. “Jim…” His name falls breathlessly from my lips.

  “Just say it. Thank you, Jim, for saving me.”

  “I didn’t need saving,” I moan, his open mouth gently kissing my bare skin where my shirt hangs off my shoulder, granting my partial wish.

  “So stubborn.” His teeth press down, nibbling at my skin. “When are you going to stop avoiding this attraction between us?” Never, I want to cowardly say. He doesn’t wait for an answer. The small whimper that escapes my lips is good enough for him. “Never saw this coming either, but if it takes me stepping up to admit it, I will. Want me to admit you’ve knocked me off my damn feet? How about if I confessed, I want nothing more than to fall headfirst into the possibilities of what it can become? Would that get you to stop avoiding this?”

  My eyes flutter closed. His hands move just a smidge, allowing his long fingers to grip and tease the lining of my hip. I open my mouth to speak, but my words are captured by the knot in my throat. “You don’t have to pretend. We’re alone. No one’s gonna hear you.” I cowardly say.

  His teeth press down, this time not as gentle, capturing my sensitive flesh. My body succumbs to his words, my hips willingly twisting around to face him. Our eyes collide, and the fire blazing threatens to burn down the world around us. The way my body submits to his intense gaze has my lips parting, sucking in a strangled breath of air. No longer am I staring at the warm, easy-going man I’ve spent the last day and a half with, but the intensity of a man ready and able to slay anyone or thing threatening to get in his way of having all of me. His high voltage stare darkens and penetrates through me, twisting my stomach into knots. A thousand different sensations flutter through my body when his hand works its way around my neck, gripping it in a way that my knees are in jeopardy of buckling. His mouth opens, his tongue wetting his lower lip as he speaks. “I know what you’re trying to do. Downplay what’s happening here. So, I’ll put it as blunt as possible. I don’t want to kiss you because I have to, I want to kiss you because I want to. And I want you to give me the okay to do so. Because when I start, I won’t be able to stop, so I need you to be on board with this.”

  A kindling of desire burns, fireworks igniting every nerve-ending down my spine to my toes. His admission entraps me, his willing prey needing his hands and mouth to consume every inch of me. I snap, br
eaking from my self-control. Time and gravity can’t collide fast enough as I lift myself up off my heels and crush my mouth to his. Just as eager, he meets me halfway, and we meet, our lips fusing together. His hand travels up my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. A moan rumbles through me, but he swallows my small whimper and kisses me deeper. I melt into him as his other free hand clasps at my behind, squeezing my butt cheek and pressing myself into him. My legs wobble, feeling the hardness of him against me. My hands become wild, sliding underneath his wet shirt. My palms meet smooth muscled skin, and a fierce hunger builds, suddenly making me ravenous. His own moan vibrates inside his chest, and his mouth breaks from mine as he helps me peel off his shirt. I tug on my own until they’re both discarded on the floor.

  “God, you’re crazy beautiful,” he praises, going back in for more. We trip backwards and fall into the small dresser perched against the wall, shaking the mirror.

  “Crazy beautiful, right? Not like crazy, comma, beautiful. I kinda haven’t been—”

  His tongue collides with mine, shutting me up, kissing me deep and senseless. “Both, but more beautiful.” He chuckles against my lips, waiting for my retribution. Instead, my hands go into his hair, and I tug hard, forcing him closer, our connection deeper. “I’ll take it. Just keep kissing me.”

  “I can do that,” he breathes heavily, his mouth moving down my chin, his wet lips kissing along the slope of my neck. His hands cup my behind, and he lifts me, propping me up on the dresser.

  We go at it like two starved lovers, unable to fight hard enough for the closeness we both desire. My conscious is smacking me knowing I could have been doing this the whole time. My hands thrust deep into his hair, and I squeeze tight. The rumble from his chest rises up his throat, and a sexy growl falls from his lips. As if igniting the flame between my legs even more, I pull him closer, stepping up my infatuation for my tongue dancing around his.

  With the gentle thrust of him grinding into me, I go wild. My hands yank hard at his hair, and he pulls my butt cheeks forward, grinding me into him. I moan so loud, I almost accidently bite his tongue. My hands are needed elsewhere, so I let loose my death grip and go for his shorts. Off. Off. Off, my greedy mind repeats as I pop open the button and race to get his zipper down.

  He’s in his own race, jerking at my shorts. The problem is our clothes, wet and soaked to our skin is making it extra difficult.

  “Dammit,” he growls, unable to get my shorts down. I’m not in as bad of a predicament, but it still takes me some iron strength to push his shorts past his monster hard on before they drop to the floor. I go right for the gold and reach into his briefs, my hands working around him. I about die at how large he is. Maybe I should have done some exercises to prepare for this. Kegel boot camp. I get one solid stroke in, my hand barely fitting around his whole girth, when a growl so deep reverberates in his chest.

  “Dammit, you’re gonna kill me.”

  “Same. What do you do with this thing?”

  He kisses me harder, thrusting into my hand. We both moan in unison as my hand strokes up and down his length.

  “Fuck, I need you on the bed.” He lifts me up and hustles toward the bed. Forgetting his shorts are around his ankles, he trips, and we go flying onto the mattress. His heavy weight lands on top of me, but we don’t miss a single beat. His mouth devours mine. He kicks off his shorts, and his hands work at the second button on mine, hauling them down my legs.

  I can’t remember the last time I was so excited about sex. Oh my god, I’m gonna have sex! Wait…I’m gonna have sex. My excitement crashes into my nerves, and I suddenly worry I’m making a bad call. No, you’re not. Let him do all the dirty things to you. My inner voice isn’t always the best influence. Most of the time when I listen, I end up in situations I regret. You saw what he’s about to give you. No turning back now. I did see, and felt, and…“Oh god,” I moan as his teeth bite down on my earlobe.

  His hands caress my hips, latching onto my soaked panties. He raises his head so our eyes meet, and my belly clenches at the intensity shining in his. “These gotta go.” He bares his teeth, his smile hungry, like a beast hunting his prey. He works his way down my torso, his movements slow, methodic, enticing, surreal, freaking insane, until those teeth are wrapped around the top of my panties.

  Oh my god, he’s taking off my underwear. With his teeth!

  I throw my head back, anticipating what he plans on doing next. Then I throw my head back up. Shoot, am I properly shaved? I was in a hurry. Hungover. What if I left patches? He’s gonna think I’m some sort of cavewoman.

  The moment he gets my panties down, I reach for his head to drag him back up, wanting to avoid any hair related topics. But he’s faster and stronger. His tongue hits my warm center, and my head crashes against the bed in ecstasy.

  I always pictured heaven to be a pretty place. Beautiful. Euphoric. And it is—it so is. “Oh heavens.” He works me slow, until my fingers dig into his hair and I threaten bald patches. The rumble of his laughter feels even more heavenly against my inner thigh. He gets the point and starts working me hard and fast, adding a finger to throw me over the edge. When my orgasm detonates, I worry I knock him out when my pelvis thrusts forward, hitting him in the chin.

  His grip latches around my hips, holding me in place as he devours me. When the last lingering tremor runs through me, he lets up. He lifts his head, his chin glistening. “You taste like heaven.”

  I want to laugh at his compliment and return the nice gesture and tell him his tongue feels like heaven. “Tell me what you want, Case?”

  I want a million more of what he just gave me. My toes are still tingling. “I want you to stop doing so much talking and more showing.”

  God, I’m a perv. Dirty talking is not my thing. Being pushy and dominant isn’t either. I’m fairly boring in the bedroom. But the way his voice penetrates through me, deep and sexy, I lose all sense of myself.

  “Thank god. I was hoping for that answer. Getting a taste of you made me a starved man.” He crawls up my body, still quivering from that orgasm, and crushes his mouth over mine. Tasting myself on his tongue is a new thing for me. I would think I’d be grossed out, but instead I find it strangely arousing. It’s effect on me heightens the already aching need I have for him.

  “Fuck,” he groans and sits up. “Condom.”

  Oh, come on! Has anyone ever used a zip lock bag and a rubber band—

  “My wallet. I should have one in there.” He jumps off the bed, hopping out of his briefs in the process. His wingman falls out, saluting me, and my mouth waters. His junk catches the small light from the lamp, making an impressive shadow puppet against the wall. My hand lifts to play along, using my index finger and thumb to stroke the shadow.

  He rummages through his wallet, and when he turns around, I throw my hands back down. There’s no denying how attractive he is. With clothes on, he’s like a popsicle on a hot day. Naked, it’s hitting a trench of ice-cold water in the middle of the Sahara Desert. He is what you’d call all man in his birthday suit of glory.

  Like a hunky sex God, he wets his lips, scoping out his prey. My insides twirl knowing I’m his target. There’s no shyness in his fiery gaze as his teeth rip open the condom packet and he slides it down his very erect, very eager love muscle. He prowls toward me, my eyes glued to his as he lifts his knee to climb on the bed. I must be dreaming. This perfect specimen of a man cannot be crawling up this bed to seduce and bring me to exultant, orgasmic pleasure. The closer he gets, the faster time speeds up. His mouth is quickly back on mine, kissing away any doubts I had. My hands go rogue molesting his abs. His are more rampant, squeezing my butt cheek, my hips, working his way up to cup my breasts. He wraps his fingers around my flesh, squeezing until my nipples turn plum in color. His mouth rips from mine, and he positions it over my nipple, sucking until I’m hard in his mouth, then biting at the tip.

  My back fights to stay against the mattress. My hands find themselves threading into his wild
hair. I coddle his head closer as he assaults my other breast.

  “Like silk against my tongue. I can suck and taste you all day.” His mouth presses against my breastbone, moving up to the dip of my collarbone. “I can live off the scent of you alone.” His tongue, warm and inviting, causes a violent wave of goosebumps to break out as he sucks hard, no doubt leaving his mark.

  I can’t take much more teasing of his hands and mouth. My body aches in a way that begs for him to feed all my cravings until I’m full in every way. His greedy hands are back on my breasts, toying with my nipples. When his eyes lift to meet mine, they’re glazed over in a sheen of lust I’ve never seen on another man’s face.

  There’s a raw hoarseness to his voice when he speaks. “I need inside you like something fierce.” The tension low in my belly pulsates at his words. I wrap my legs around his thick waist as he uses one hand to adjust himself between my aching thighs. One last glance just before he takes my breath away and powers into me.

  God bless America.

  Like fireworks on the Fourth of July, sparks ignite inside me, blasting a tremor of euphoria down to my toes. A layer of sweat forms along my trembling skin at the sudden fullness of him. I almost bite my tongue, trying to hold back the deep moan threatening to wake the dead. He doesn’t pull out right away, but waits for me to adjust to him. Not realizing I had closed them, I open my eyes and connect to the flame, wild and swirling, in his eyes. The way he looks down at me creates a need so fierce inside me. I lift my head and cover his lips with my own. The rumble of his arousal vibrates against my lips as he pulls out and claims me once again. With each measured thrust, I open for him, widening my legs to give him more of me. He doesn’t waste a second. Picking up the pace, he pulls out and with the strength of a bull, slams into me.

  “Fuck,” he growls, nipping at my lower lip. His rough hands fondle my breasts as his mouth does something magical to my neck, his tongue warm to my already blazing skin. Each thrust is a message. A vow. He’s going to ruin me. And I welcome it. My legs begin to shake, tension forming low in my belly. I’m mere seconds away from the grand finale, quick whimpers falling from my lips, possibly sounding like “The Star-Spangled Banner.” God, Fourth of July is my new favorite—