Hostile(33)

TWENTY-TWO





My legs still feel weak from coming so damn hard in Grayson’s mouth. I can’t believe how good that felt. I tried to warn him, but he just kept at it. He even seemed to enjoy it, taking his own pleasure from it.

I don’t know how to define what’s going on with us. I still don’t know how to label myself, but what I do know is I don’t want this to stop. I crave it.

He leads me into a warm room with no windows and a large pool with a big-ass screen at the end, which I guess is to watch movies on. “Wow.”

He tosses two beach towels on one of the comfortable-looking lounge chairs. “Don’t look so impressed. I might think you’re using me for my house.”

I laugh. “Nah. Just your cocksucking skills.”

He easily laughs right back, no hurt in his eyes. He can take a joke from an asshole like me, which I think may be another reason to add to me liking him. “Pool’s not a bad perk either though, right?”

I look at the shimmering water of the pool and grin. The excitement running through me is nearly ridiculous. “It’s pretty nice.”

“Then, come on.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me and jumps into the pool with no finesse whatsoever. His huge, muscular body making quite a splash before his head pops out of the water, and he brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Come on. Don’t tell me you were lying about swimming.”

I don’t answer, just jump in the deep end with him, popping up from the water and making sure to splash him when I flip back my hair. His big hands grab my hips under the water, and for a moment, I get lost in him. In those big, blue eyes and his bright, white smile.

“What are you doing to me?”

The right side of his mouth kicks up in a knowing grin as he brushes a quick kiss over my lips before releasing me and quickly dunking me under the water.

Fucker.

I fight back and find my way to the surface before dunking him in retribution. We wrestle and swim until our muscles are tired, and we end up on the steps, still in the water, but sitting so the water his waist-high on him and slightly higher on me.

“This is nice, I have to admit.” I enjoy the feeling of the water, not wanting to leave.

“Yeah. It’s the best part of the house by far.”

I look out over the pool, zoning out and enjoying the moment. The rest of the world fades away as it often does when I’m in water. I push off the stairs, taking long strokes and swimming the length of the pool. I just let it all go for the moment.

I barely register it when Grayson starts swimming alongside me with his long powerful arms easily sliding through the water and keeping up with me without effort. We don’t speak. We just swim lap after lap, back and forth, the length of the pool.

I don’t worry about letting Rhys down or having to answer to Bree and Fletcher about my new friendship with Grayson. I don’t worry about labels or what any of this means between us. It’s effortless.

It’s freeing, even when my muscles burn, and I know I need to stop and take a break soon. It’s just me in the water. No horrible past. No uncertain future. Just me.

When Grayson stops swimming, I force myself to also stop, treading water as he swims to me and wraps his arms around me, panting from the speed of our laps. “Damn. You really do like to swim. Why aren’t you on the swim team?”

I bark a laugh. “Yeah, no. I swim for me, no one else.”

He grins and kisses my lips softly, and I drape my tired arms around his neck. His eyes search mine, and I can see he wants to ask me something. He seems to be fighting it, though, so I wait, unsure if I’m ready to hear what he wants to say. “We should go away together.”

Okay, yeah. That’s not at all what I was expecting. “What? No.”

He doesn’t look surprised. “Think about it.”

“Do you mean run away together or something?”

He laughs at that, and since we’re kind of wrapped around each other, I feel the rumble of his laughter and shove him away playfully. “No. Not run away with me. Go away with me. Like a trip.”

I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “No.”

He splashes me with water. “You haven’t even asked for any details.”

I splash him back. “I don’t need details. We’re barely friends. And you want to plan a trip together?”

He swims closer to me, and I swim away. Again, he swims closer, and I swim away until we’re both where we can comfortably stand in the water. “We’re friends.” He pushes the water through his hair, and I watch it fall back into the pool.

“Fine. We’re friends. But not trip friends.”

He laughs at that. So effortless. “Sure, we are. I’m not talking about running away together or even taking a big trip. I’m saying for a couple of days during spring break, we should pack our bags and drive to the Ozarks. I have a cabin.”

I eye him suspiciously. “You have a cabin? Or your father has a cabin?”

Thankfully, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting his father, but I’m pretty damn sure I won’t be a fan. “I have a cabin. My grandfather left it to me. It’s mine and mine only. And it’s awesome.”

“Holy shit. You’re eighteen and have a cabin of your own?”

He looks sheepish but covers it with a cocky shrug. “What eighteen year old doesn’t? You act like it’s strange or something.”