by Lulu Pratt
“Okay, so you pick where we’re going,” I say.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HARPER POLSEN
I step out of my bathroom with a final check in the mirror. If Zane and I are going to try to get each other dates for the big party his parents are throwing, I want to look my best. Not that I’m all that concerned with getting a date. I’ll be going back to the city in a few days, and it’s not like anything would come from any date I did end up scoring.
But I want to look nice anyway. A little voice in my head suggests that it might actually be for Zane’s benefit, but I ignore it. I don’t want to think that I might be dressing up, doing my make-up, to attract a guy who until recently I never even remotely thought of as hot.
He’s practically your brother, he can’t be hot.
I grab one of the more casual dresses that I packed and hold it up to my body, looking in the mirror to make sure it goes with the way I did my hair and make-up. It looks great, and I know I can’t wear it to the party the next night anyway. It’s got a plunging neckline, but not too daring. I think that I can probably pull it off without too much scandal.
I pull the dress on, slip my feet into a pair of flats that go with it. There is no way that I’m going to wear heels, not if I don’t have to, and grab my purse. Mom and Dad are busy in the kitchen, making dinner. I told them when Zane and I finished our big Tekken tournament hours later, with me narrowly in the lead with one win more than him, that I was going to dinner with Zane to find ourselves dates.
I grin to myself as I step out through the front door and see Zane himself walking to the house. We’d kept playing the game even though I’d won the wager, betting other things along the way, whose car we’d take, who would be the designated driver, whatever it was we could bet to keep things interesting, down to a few desperate wagers for the party the next day.
After a while, we were too hungry and too bored of the game to keep going, so I’d left to get ready to go out.
“I have no idea why you want to go to Bill’s Tavern so bad,” Zane tells me as he walks up to the driveway.
“Why wouldn’t I? That place is awesome,” I tell him.
“It’s so stupid!” Zane shakes his head. “I would think a cultured city girl like you would want to hit up a real bar.”
“I have hit up many kinds of bars, and I happen to like Bill’s Tavern a lot,” I say tartly, making sure I have the keys to my car.
“Once a nerd, always a nerd,” Zane says, shaking his head again.
I see him hesitate a bit as he goes to climb into the passenger’s side. “Do not make that face,” I tell him. “I am an excellent driver.”
Zane gives me a dubious look, but gets into the car.
I drive us to the Tavern and we chat about the party the next day, about what a huge deal it’s going to be. The entire neighborhood is going to be there, as well as Zane’s parents’ friends from work, some of their college friends and members of the family. His parents’ ten-year anniversary had been almost as big a deal. They’d had the one party, the big blowout, without the preamble a couple of days before. I could only just remember it since we’d only been kids at the time.
“Admit it,” I say, as we chow down on our dinners with sides of beer.
“Admit what?”
I gesture around Bill’s Tavern in response to Zane’s question. “Admit that I chose a good place,” I say.
“It’s not awful, but I don’t think we’re going to find dates here,” Zane says.
“That’s a good point,” I admit, looking around.
We’re possibly two of the youngest people in the bar-restaurant, along with two other couples, and clearly we’re not going to get any dates from the couples.
“Maybe if we hang out for a bit, a younger crowd will start showing up,” Zane suggests.
“We’ll stay for another beer, maybe a shot, if we really want to be daring. Then we can go to a bar of your choice,” I suggest.
Zane grins. “Another beer, no shot. If there aren’t any other single people our own age to talk to, we’ll move on and get that shot somewhere else,” he counters.
I consider that and nod. There are two or three bars within walking distance of Bill’s Tavern, which is really more of a dinner spot anyway. In the worst-case scenario, we can get a cab if we get too tipsy to drive home.
“Did we ever agree on who was going to be the designated driver?” Zane asks.
I shake my head. “You kept insisting that I cheated, and demanding rematches,” I say.
“And then we moved onto something else,” Zane adds.
“Yep, so we’ll have to figure out which one of us is going to stay sober.”
“Maybe we could both take it easy?” Zane says, raises an eyebrow. “After all, there’s going to be drinking tomorrow night, too.”
“That’s a good point.” I sigh.
We look around the room and make up a story about the fellow patrons.
“You know, I just remembered something,” Zane says, cutting through my musings about an old man seated alone at the bar.
“What’s that?” I turn my attention back onto Zane.
I have to admit, even in a T-shirt and jeans — for once he’s not in an army T-shirt — he looks pretty damn good. Better than that, he looks damn hot.
“I know where I want to go instead.”
“You said you remembered something,” I point out.
“I remembered how, that year I took off before the army, there was that skinny dipping trip when you were home for spring break,” Zane explains.
“Oh God, that,” I say, shaking my head as I start to remember it too.
“You chickened out,” Zane smirks.
“I didn’t chicken out. I had other things to do that night,” I insist.
“You chickened out,” Zane counters.
“Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.
“Which makes me think we should go to the lake after this,” Zane says.
“Why? No one’s going to be there,” I say.
“We could buy a couple of beers on the way, hang out, sit around and drink,” Zane says.
“We’re not going to find dates there,” I point out.
“At this point I think we’ve both come to the conclusion we’re not looking for a date,” Zane counters with a smirk.
“I guess,” I say hesitantly.
But there’s a little jolt of heat working its way through me, and something about the alcohol makes the blood rush into my face.
“So shall we? I’ll pay our tab, and we can head out.”
I look at Zane for a long moment. “We split the tab, and then we’ll head out,” I say.
Zane looks like he’s going to argue the point, but he extends his hand and we shake, sealing the deal.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ZANE LEWIS
Harper pulls her car up to the little cleared-out area next to the lake we’ve been coming to since we were old enough to swim, and I look at Harper.
“I still can’t believe you chickened out,” I say.
“I keep telling you I didn’t. I just had something to do that night,” Harper insists.
“Well, have you ever gone skinny dipping then? Maybe at that fancy university you went to?”
“I went the very next night, actually,” she tells me, smiling.
“What?” My eyes widen and I stare at her.
“The night after you and Julia and all the others went to the lake, I decided it was stupid of me never to go skinny dipping, so I went to the lake by myself,” Harper says.
“Thus ruining the entire point of going skinny dipping,” I say, shaking my head.
Harper rolls her eyes. “The point of skinny dipping is to go swimming naked,” she says.
“It’s to do that with other people,” I tell her. “The whole point is being with people you’re not entirely sure you want to see you naked. Like a cute guy, or that girl you like, or your friends. It’s about the rush
of being a little bit scared you might get caught, or laughed at.”
“It’s to be naked in the water,” Harper insists.
“Did you ever go skinny dipping with someone?”
I insisted on buying a six-pack as Harper insisted on paying for her half of the bill. The beer is still cold as we get out of the car and walk down along the grassy area leading to the shore of the lake. I think we were maybe three the first time our parents brought us here. All I know is that some of my earliest memories were at this lake.
“If you want to get technical, when we were babies and came here, I skinny dipped, by your definition,” Harper says.
It’s starting to get dark, and there are only a handful of safety lights, enough to walk back from the shore. A couple more illuminate the water, more to make sure people know it’s there than anything else.
“That doesn’t count either,” I tell her.
“Why not? You said it’s swimming naked with other people,” Harper insists. She’s got that prissy, hot-librarian look again, and it actually turns me on, just a little bit.
“You don’t get the thrill when you’re a baby because when you’re a baby you have no idea that being naked is supposed to be, like…” I don’t want to say ‘wrong’ but it’s something along those lines.
“It’s supposed to be private, you mean,” Harper says. She sits down on the edge of the grass and I join her.
I open two of the beers and hand one to her.
“Right. It needs to be something where you’re not sure you can go through with it,” I say.
“I don’t accept your definition,” Harper tells me.
I snort and take a sip of my beer. I’m not usually into anything fancy, beer-wise, but whatever the stuff is that Harper chose at the gas station, it’s pretty good, in spite of sounding fussy.
“That’s probably because you’ve never done it, right?” I look at her and hold her gaze until she blushes.
“I just haven’t wanted to,” Harper tells me in that pert voice again.
It drives me short of crazy to hear it, it makes me want to take her hair down, touch her all over, make her loosen up a bit. I’ve never had that reaction to her before in my life, and it kind of scares me, but at the same time I have to admit it thrills me too.
“Okay. Then here’s what we need to do; get naked and get in the lake,” I say.
“What?” The word comes out of Harper almost in a shriek.
“I am challenging you to a bet. I bet that you won’t skinny dip with me tonight, here, right now.”
“That’s a stupid bet,” Harper protests.
“It’s a great bet, because either I get to see a naked woman or I get fifty bucks,” I tell her.
“It’s a stupid bet because… because you don’t bet on that kind of thing. It’s a dare, not a bet,” she insists. In the pale glow of the safety lights I can see her blushing deeper and deeper red.
“Then I dare you to go skinny dipping with me tonight, or I’ll tell everyone we both still know that you flirted with me,” I say.
Harper’s quiet for a few seconds and I wonder if I’ve done something wrong.
“You really want to see me naked, huh?”
She puts down her barely touched beer, stands up and turns to face me.
“I just want to see you do something you’re not entirely comfortable doing,” I say.
“Right,” Harper counters, her voice sarcastic.
“Well, are you going to do it or not?” I say as I cross my arms over my chest.
“If I’m going to do it, you have to too,” Harper says. “I’m not going to swim naked and get caught all on my lonesome.”
“Oh, I’ll come along,” I tell her. It’s a warm night out, and I actually wouldn’t mind going for a swim, even if I didn’t have the added bonus of Harper naked in front of me.
We both start stripping down and I can’t help but start to get just a bit hard from the sight of Harper’s body, more and more of it showing as she takes everything off, right up close to me. I take off my boxers last, and hopefully before Harper can spot my erection standing at least at half-mast, I rush into the water.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HARPER POLSEN
I follow Zane into the water and let out a little shriek that I quickly try to muffle as the cold swirls around me, sapping my body of its heat. I hadn’t even thought I was that warm.
“See? This is totally different from going swimming in the raw by yourself,” Zane tells me, and I feel myself blushing even as I roll my eyes.
“It’s not that different at all,” I say, wading out deeper into the water.
I remember that Zane is actually a really good swimmer. He was a lifeguard at one point when we’d been in high school and I’m sure the army has only improved his skills further.
I’m grateful for the fact that the light isn’t very strong away from the shore, and I can at least pretend like Zane hasn’t seen that much of me naked and not for that long. I did catch sight of his cock starting to harden right before he ran for the water, and that sight gave me the strangest thrill.
“Come on, you have to admit that you’re at least a little intrigued,” Zane says, and he’s only a few feet away from me. Even if I can’t see him below about his chest I can only imagine that he’s probably still sporting the half-erection. That the water, cool as it is, couldn’t have possibly done much to shut down the reflex.
Is it because he saw me naked and liked what he saw? Or is it just being naked at the lake with a girl?
“It’s interesting,” I admit, almost against my will.
“Oh God, skinny dipping is interesting?” Zane laughs.
“Stop making fun of me,” I say, splashing water in his direction.
“I will, once you stop being such a cute little nerd,” Zane counters.
My cheeks burn at the sound of the word cute. He thinks I’m cute? There have been hints of it since the first party, but nothing I could ever really make a move on, nothing I could trust to not just be typical Zane Lewis flirting.
“That’s not going to work on me, Zane,” I tell him.
“What’s not going to work, Harper?”
Somehow he’s even closer to me in the water, so close I can almost feel the heat of his body, and I find myself looking down through the darkness obscuring us from each other from the chest down, trying to see if I can see his cock, trying to discover if, as I suspect, he’s still sporting a semi-erection.
“That whole charm thing,” I reply.
“If I were charming you, I would tell you that the only reason I wanted to come here was to try to talk you into skinny dipping with me,” Zane says.
I laugh. “I pretty much guessed that,” I say.
“See? Cute and smart. Cute nerd,” Zane insists.
I shake my head, and at the same time I find myself moving closer to Zane in the water.
We’re floating there, treading water, just inches away from each other like some kind of bizarre game of chicken. I think each of us is waiting for the other one to pull back, or at least do something about the situation. As close as we are, I can see more of Zane’s body in the clear water. A few nights before, when I watched him masturbating, I’d never imagined that I might actually see him up close like this. See his naked body, covered in lean muscle and his tattoos, within a hand’s reach of me.
For a few seconds we stay like that, staring at each other, neither of us talking. Then Zane closes the last little bit of distance between us. He puts his hands on my waist and pulls me up against him through the water, and his lips brush against mine.
“If you want me to stop, just say so,” he murmurs against my lips.
Even before I can say anything, though I don’t really have the brains to speak, he kisses me again, more deeply than the first time.
I put my arms around his shoulders without even thinking, opening my mouth when I feel Zane’s tongue sweep along my lips. I press my body against his and all at once the
only thing I can think of is how good he feels, how hot, how much smoother his skin is than I would have imagined.
His hands go all over me and I moan against his mouth, sliding my fingertips along his shoulders, down his back. We move a little closer to shore, and Zane plunges his tongue into my mouth, probing and tasting me, while I counter with my own tongue, battling him, both of us trying to dominate, just like in the video game earlier that day.
I shiver as the cold, and the feeling of Zane’s hands all over me overwhelms every nerve in my body. I break away from his lips for a moment. Zane ducks down to kiss and nibble along my throat, down almost to my chest, and I let my hands wander all over him, barely missing his erection. I can feel it pressing against my hip, and I have to admit that there’s a very, very big part of me that wants to feel that thickness, that heat, deep inside me.
We’re barely in the water anymore, tangled up in each other in the shallows, tumbling around and kissing each other over and over again.
All at once I’m pulling away, panting a little bit from how turned on I am. I can feel how wet my pussy is, far beyond anything the water could have done, slick and hot and tight.
“We… should stop,” I say, even though it’s the last thing in the world I really want. What I want is for Zane to pull me out of the water and pin me down on the grass and take me.
“You’re right,” Zane says, breathing heavily. It’s like agony, hearing him say it.
“It would just be too weird, going any farther than that,” I say, because I know I have to say it, because it’s the right thing to say. Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to take it back.
“Way too weird,” Zane agrees, and I have to resist the urge to tell him to stop agreeing with me, to argue with me like he always seems to. Why isn’t he arguing with me now? I can feel how hard his cock is. I know he wants me as much as I want him.