Page 67 of Double Puck

"Beck—"

His fingers slide over my clit, circling me again and my hips buck helplessly into his hand.

“Fuck, I love watching you. So goddamn sexy.” His hand tightens on my neck as his other keeps working between my thighs. "You're so fucking perfect. Such a good girl. Just like that."

Good girl.

OH. MY. GOD.

I stroke him faster, dipping my fingers beneath the waistband of his trunks, finally touching hot, smooth skin.

"BISCUIT?! Biscuit, where the hell are you?"

Mason's voice cuts through the morning air like a bucket of ice water, and I jerk back from Beck so fast I nearly submerge.

My hand flies out of his trunks and my legs unwrap from his waist.

I spin toward the pool wall, gripping the edge with white knuckles, my chest heaving as I nearly fucking drown. Beck steadies me, letting me hold onto him as we spin to see Mason standing on the second-floor balcony in joggers.

He's wearing black rimmed glasses and holding a mug of coffee in his hand, his hair still sleep-mussed. He squints down at us, his expression completely neutral.

"Oh, shit. Sorry guys." Mason frowns down at us. "How's the swimming lesson going?"

I can't look at him. I physically cannot turn my head toward that balcony. My face is on fire.

"Great," Beck says casually, like he wasn't just grinding his massive cock against me in a swimming pool. "She's a natural."

Fuck.

My neck is still throbbing where Beck's hand was, and I can feel how swollen my lips are, and I'm ninety percent sure my swimsuit is twisted in a way that tells the entire story.

Mason takes a slow sip of coffee. His eyes moving between us. I don't know how, but I sense him seeing everything.

"Cool." He pauses. "You seen Biscuit? He was sleeping on my bed, but—"

Beck tilts his head back, water dripping down his jaw, looking up at the balcony like this is the most normal conversation he's ever had in his life. "He's on the deck. Passed out in the sun like the freeloader he is."

Mason nods, takes another sip of coffee. His gaze lingers, and then he pushes off the balcony railing with his free hand.

"Cool. Enjoy your… lesson."

I want to dissolve into chlorine.

Beck gives him a cheerful thumbs-up. "Will do, brother."

Mason disappears back inside, and silence crashes around us.

"So." Beck stands three feet away, chest heaving, his swim trunks doing absolutely nothing to hide the situation I just had my hand on. "I usually charge extra for this kind of lesson."

A laugh bursts out of me, as I push a splash of water at his face. "Shut up, Beck. Now help me get out, I've never been more embarrassed in my life."

I drag myself up the pool steps, water streaming everywhere, and Beck wraps a towel around me as my hands refuse to stop shaking.

My swimsuit has migrated somewhere it should never be. And my neck still tingles where his palm was.

I grabbed his hand and made him squeeze tighter.

Who am I?