by E. M. Moore
I playfully gasp. “Well, what’s that, Ivy?”
“I was just lying in bed, you know, in the room full of cocks, and thought to myself that I’d really like to see some boobies.”
I crack up laughing. “Boobies?”
“Do you want to go skinny-dipping?”
“Sloan Ivy, are you insane? You know my dad walks around this camp.”
He blows my excuse off. “Are you kidding? He’s probably talking to Ryan’s mom on the phone right now.”
“What about the other coaches?”
He glances at the clock. “There’s still five minutes left before curfew.”
“So anyone could be around outside? Are you trying to talk me out of this or into this?”
He slides off the bed and grabs my hand. “Come on, Dale.” He waggles his eyebrows at my cleavage. “You wouldn’t turn me down, would you? Not when you’ve decided to ruin my good night with rumors of my parents’ selfishness.”
“Sloan,” I start to argue.
He hauls me to my feet and winds his arms around me. “I was just joking. Come on.” He gives my ass a quick squeeze before grabbing my hand and pulling me outside.
We cross the small porch, then the beach until our toes are dipped in the water. We shuck our shoes off, and Sloan squeezes my hand. “We can wait to undress until we’re out there. No one will be the wiser. It’ll just be the two of us taking an evening dip.”
“You’re crazy,” I tell him, but I follow him out into the water anyway. I’m not going to lie and say that this thought hadn’t crossed my mind. I mean, the camp is set up for this scenario, isn’t it?
The water swallows my calves and then reaches my thighs before slipping over my hips. I still have a little soreness there from Lake pushing me to the bar floor a couple weeks ago, but it’s not anything I can’t handle. It’s just a reminder of why I need to continue to work hard.
He drags me further and further out until the water reaches our collarbones. Turning toward me, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a devilish grin on his face before. I feel his hands at my hips. They come around to the button and zipper and he starts undoing it. My heart is stuck in my throat. Somehow, this seems so much more sensual than just two kids skinny dipping. He’s going all in right now, isn’t he?
With the help of the water, his hands glide over me as he pulls my shorts down. They rise to the surface and hover near us. I look up at the sky, finally seeing how dark it is out. This really is the perfect night for this.
“My turn,” I breathe.
I reach out, my fingers wrapping around the waistband of his basketball shorts. His are easier to discard. I bring them to the surface after he steps out of them and place them right next to my own shorts.
“Shirt,” he says next. His voice is thick. Those hazel eyes of his that love to turn colors are awash with arousing green flecks. I reach my hands over my head as he tugs the bottom of my shirt up. The lake water drips over me as he drops the shirt next to our bottoms.
I’ve seen Sloan without his shirt off before, but I’ve never actually taken it off myself. I run my fingertips up his chiseled stomach, taking the hem of his shirt along for the ride. The planes of his abs dip and even out several times until I reach his chest and then haul the shirt over his head.
“This isn’t fair,” I say, noticing our predicament. I have two items left on while he only has one.
His hands slide around my rib and down, his pinkies teasing the tops of my panties. He and I have had our fair share of problems with lace panties, but not this time. He cups my ass as he moves the soaked fabric down. Eventually, I have to help him, stepping out of my undergarment before he has them in his possession again, just like the blue ones. It feels so freeing to be almost naked in the middle of a lake. It’s like Sloan and I have a secret now. He was right. No one can tell that we’re undressing out here.
He takes my hands and sets them on his hips. I can tell by the thick band that he has boxers on. I move forward, gliding my palms down his hips and thighs. He has to pull the band of his boxers out and around his erection, but soon enough, the boxers are floating on the surface of the lake now, too.
There’s just one more item left.
Sloan’s fingers cup my cheek. He moves in, placing a soft, tender kiss to my lips as he unclasps my bra with one hand. If it wasn’t so water-logged, it would spring open, but it just floats on the surface. When he backs away, he looks so proud of himself that I can’t help but smile back at him. His hands trail up my arms, his fingers hook under my bra and then slowly pull it down until my arms are free.
We just stand there, hidden away in the water for a little while. Neither of us can see any of our important parts, but my mouth is dry like this is a big deal. I can feel the current of his hand moving through the water first before he cups my breast. My mouth drops at the touch, and then my eyes feel heavy as he cups the other, too. His thumbs pass over my nipples as he kneeds and plucks until my nipples are hard, practically begging him not to stop.
“I’ve thought about this more than a few times,” he admits, his voice breathy.
My breaths are coming out raspier and raspier the more his fingers play over me. I guess he really did just want to see boobies, but I’m not going to let that stop me from having my fun either. I reach out, bridging the distance between us through the water until I clasp his dick in my hand. He stills, then lets out a groan that echoes far and wide with the help of the water. I run my thumb over his tip until he’s sucking his lower lip through his teeth. “Not fair, Dale.”
“Completely fair,” I exhale.
“I really just wanted to go skinny dipping and yet here you are violating me.”
I work on him harder. He throws his head back, but his jaw locks tight, keeping whatever sound that was begging to come out at bay. One hand leaves my breast and drops to my ass. He pulls me up his thigh until I’m straddling his hip. My breasts just peek out of the water. He takes in their roundness and kisses me softly. “Fuck, Sloan.”
I maneuver to the front of him, so I can grab him again. I stroke him as he takes my nipple into his mouth, thrashing it with his tongue until I’m squirming over him, looking for a relief. He gives it to me happily. After locking me down with one arm, he spreads my knees and then follows my inner thigh until his finger pushes inside. I cry out, then bite down on my lip. I don’t want to call attention to ourselves, especially now that I’m arching my back to give him better access to my breasts.
“Fuck me, Tessa,” he says. He’s not asking for it, he’s only voicing his approval of our hidden touches right under everyone’s nose. He pulls one finger out, then pushes two inside. I gasp at the feeling, having to steady myself on him with one hand. “So fucking tight,” he grits out.
We stroke one another in unison. With his mouth, he drops kisses to the curve of my breast and my cleavage, groaning when we reach a crescendo of touch. I know I’m so close to slamming head on into a rush of euphoria and I don’t think he’s that far behind me.
“Hold on,” he says.
My free hand digs into his back as he pulls his other around. While he’s still moving his fingers inside me, he uses his other hand to swirl around my nub. “Oh, Sloan,” I cry out.
He pitches his hips forward, and then it’s a mad frenzy until both of us release our contentment to the wind. For a brief moment, I wonder how far our moments of ecstasy traveled, but then Sloan is pulling me close, dropping a kiss to my lips as he holds me to him. My legs automatically tighten around his hips and we just stand there and hold one another.
I’d tell him I really like his idea of skinny dipping, but I have a feeling he already knows.
32
It turns out there’s a video of Sloan’s dad going into a hotel room with his now former secretary. Sloan assures me that his father’s team will hush it up, so it won’t impact his senatorial career, however it’s probably World War Three in his house right now. When things like this get out, the offended party makes the who
le house miserable—in this case, his mom. Even though he knows his mom just got back from a weekend trip with one of her many boyfriends.
Honestly, all of it sounds terrible. I know my parents are separating, but at least it’s not like Sloan’s parents, where image is everything and nothing else matters. For me, I’d rather be with someone who cares about me for me, not because of some job I hold or how good I look on their arm. It brings me back to Mrs. Ivy dismissing me from their house the one and only time I ate dinner there and how no one asked me how basketball was going for me. Sloan’s mother doesn’t like me, that much I can tell. I’m sure she doesn’t like the fact that I play basketball, that I wear shorts instead of dresses, that I sweat instead of glow, or that I get up and move when I really should be sitting with perfect posture with my legs crossed at the ankles.
So not me. It’s so unlike me that the image of me doing that makes me laugh.
Tension’s high at camp as the next week passes. On Friday evening, the coaches reveal that I’ve taken the number one spot in the shooting guard MVP ranking. A thrill shoots through me. I have to bite my lip to keep from celebrating. Hayes squeezes my shoulders. Alec and Sloan smile my way. Ryan nods at me, but I can tell most of them are torn. If I’m number one right now, that means Lake is number two. River has always been number three. He’s good, and he’ll be amazing when he grows a little more, but this is really just a two-person race for the top spot.
Everyone files out to go to dinner, but I stay behind. I sneak a picture of the rankings and send it to my mom and Dawn. My mom, of course, has no clue what’s at stake, but she’s rooting for me anyway. Even if I win, I’ll have to talk her out of sending me to Springs, but Dad will be on my side. Dawn, however, knows everything. She sends me a bunch of cartwheel emojis and a few middle fingers I’m guessing are directed toward Lake.
My sentiments exactly.
“You earned it,” Jacquin says.
I startle. I hadn’t realized anyone else was still in the room with me. “Thanks,” I tell him. I shift from foot to foot, watching as he walks up to the corrugated board they’ve put all our rankings on. I watch as he runs a finger under the piece of paper with my name on it. “I hope I can keep it that way.”
“I want the best person to win.” He swings his gaze my way with a playful smirk. “But I’m pulling for you.”
My jaw hardens. I hate situations like these because it’s so easy for someone to think I’m getting things handed to me. “I want the best person to win, too.”
He cocks his head. “I know, Tessa. You don’t have to go on the offensive. Not with me. Lake needs to realize that hard work gets people things. It’s not always pure talent, not that you both don’t have plenty of that.”
“Is that why you orchestrated this whole thing? To teach Lake a lesson?”
He bites his bottom lip and smiles. “No. Nothing like that.” He stops in front of me. “I hate to see anyone who deserves to be on top taken down by jealous, ignorant haters. Our world has too much of that.”
His voice is soft, dropping several notches in the span of a few seconds. It makes me think he’s had to deal with things like this. Maybe this is a him ‘paying it forward’ type of deal. “I should say thank you for doing this.”
“Don’t thank me until you beat him out for the spot on your own merit, then you can finally flourish at Rockport instead of getting stuck on the sidelines.”
He keeps moving closer to me. I shift back on my feet. My dad’s words are penetrating my brain. He thinks Jacquin likes me. I hope he doesn’t. I’m already juggling the guys I want right now.
The tips of his shoes touch the tips of mine. He reaches up to run a hand down the flyaways that have escaped my ponytail. I slip out of his grasp. He frowns. “You remind me of my girlfriend.”
Oh shit. No, no, no.
“She was so good at ball, you know?” he asks. “She did everything right. Played for our school’s girls’ team, of course, but she was captain and had stats as good as mine.” His eyes are far away. He flinches, and a wave of grief crosses his face. My stomach bottoms out as he says, “She died in a car accident two years ago.”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Jacquin.” I reach out to run a comforting hand down his upper arm. “What was her name?”
“Kelley,” he says, a small lilt to his voice, like he wants to talk about her, but doesn’t want to at the same time. “She played shooting guard, too.”
I swallow hard. He lifts the tank he’s wearing. There’s a number nine tattooed right over his heart.
“Her number,” he says.
“Mine, too.”
He drops his shirt, covering his sculpted torso back up. “I know.”
“It sounds like we would’ve had a lot in common,” I tell him, but I don’t even know if he’s listening to me anymore. He’s looking at me, but he’s staring right through me like I’m not even there or as if he sees someone other than me. I’m not quite sure what it is, but it’s making my skin prick and warning hairs rise up on my neck.
“God, I miss her.”
I sidestep him, trying to create space. “That’s understandable. I bet she’d be so proud of you.”
My lips feel almost numb as I try to bring him back to the present. He’s too lost in his own head. He grabs my wrist and pulls me to him.
“Jacquin,” I say, my voice wavering a little. He’s so distraught. His whole face has morphed into sadness. His eyes are dull, almost dead looking.
“You remind me so much of her,” he repeats again.
I try to struggle out of his grip, but he’s holding on to me so tightly. He lowers his face to mine. I turn at the last second, so he kisses my cheek, his lips open like he’d expected a welcome.
“Please,” he begs, his lips moving against my cheek. “Just give me this.”
His huge hand clasps onto my neck, holding me in place. He leans down, and I press my lips together. He’s like a guy gone mad. His eyes are shut so tight, matching the rest of his strained face as he lowers his face to mine.
“Stop,” I tell him. “Jacquin.” I twist my wrist this way and that, trying to break free from his grasp. If I do that, maybe he’ll break out of whatever spell he’s under. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a close loved one like that, but I’m not her.
“Let her go!”
I turn quickly. Jacquin and I bump faces, which creates space. It’s a good thing because Alec rips him away after that. He pulls his fist back. “No!” I shout.
Alec doesn’t listen. His fist slams forward, catching Jacquin in the jaw. He stumbles back, and I move in between them. Alec’s usually beautiful green eyes are alive with fury. He sucks in ragged breaths, his shoulders hunched and tight. His gaze clashes with mine, and I see betrayal there. “You told him no.”
I step forward. “I did.” I look behind me. Jacquin has his hand on his jaw. The sound Alec’s fist made when it connected with it still echoes in my mind. He did that for me. My gut wrenches. Alec is a beast. “It’s not his fault.” I don’t even know what the fuck I’m saying, really. Is it his fault? I just don’t want Alec to get in trouble. Fighting is strictly prohibited. He can’t do that here. He shouldn’t want to do that here. Baseball is only a couple weeks away now.
“Not his fault?”
Jacquin comes up behind me. He pushes me out of the way with a quick movement of his arm. “Calm down, Christopoulos.”
The words could’ve worked if he hadn’t laid a hand on me. “I said don’t fucking touch her.” He launches himself at Jacquin Sellers. I’m so surprised I jump back. They fall to the ground. I reach down to try to pull Alec off, but all I do is allow Jacquin to get a shot in at him.
“What the…?”
Ryan runs in. He’s able to do what I couldn’t. He pulls Alec off, and I immediately intervene in front of Jacquin. There’s no way he’s going to get me out of his way this time. “What do you even care?” Jacquin shouts. “She’s not even your girlfriend.” He wipes b
lood away from his lips.
“The hell she isn’t,” Alec snaps.
If there wasn’t so much tension in the room, I’d swoon over that.
There’s so much commotion now that others swarm the room, including my dad and the other coaches. I sigh, there’s no way we’re going to cover this up now. Jacquin is bleeding. What excuse are they going to use? He tripped? He’s a phenomenal athlete. No, there’s no denying it. Alec isn’t even in the right place to try and downplay his anger.
“What the hell’s going on in here?” my dad barks.
I’m a little relieved. Only because there’s no way it’s going to escalate again. I finally turn my back on Jacquin and move toward Alec. Ryan still has his hands on his shoulders. I sneak past him and put my hand on his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“You did tell him not to touch you, didn’t you?”
I nod.
Relief floods his eyes. He pulls me into an embrace, and I let him.
Right there in front of everybody, his fingers sink into my skin, pulling me that much closer to him.
“What’s going on here, Sellers?” my dad asks, moving forward.
Alec finally lets me go, and I spin to look at Jacquin. There’s no getting around the fact that these two got in a fight. My heart constricts. “Dad,” I say. “Can I speak to you privately?” Maybe if I can just explain, but there’s no sense in embarrassing either one of them.
Alec pulls back on my arm. “It’s okay,” he whispers. Louder, he says, “I punched him, Mr. Dale.”
My father’s eyes widen a fraction. I knew he suspected something happened, but the fact that Alec isn’t trying to hide it is surprising. It’s more than surprising to me. It’s infuriating. “Don’t, Alec.”
Alec turns, his teeth clamped together.
“You’re going to get kicked out,” I say under my breath, hoping he’s the only one who catches it.
“I don’t care,” he says. “You know I don’t care.”
Ryan’s head snaps up. “You don’t care? What the hell does that mean?”
