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I will admit, my TutuDanceFighter alter ego and her followers and fans have saved me a bit these last couple years as my friends went out to pursue their dreams, and I felt a little left behind.
“Well, you should have fun working with Jack.” Arianna changes the subject, thank goodness. “The marina is fun, maybe you’ll meet some hot guy. A little summer romance…”
“Sure. You too, at camp I’m sure there’s lots of action going on after hours,” I say, knowing there’s no other hot guy I’d want besides her dad. My belly flutters, knowing we’re going to be spending nearly every moment together working or staying here for the next seven days. I’ve been playing out scenarios in my mind since Carter told me the plan and now that we’re here, all I want to do is play house with Jack. I wonder if I’ll have the guts to let him know finally how I feel, knowing I’ll probably lose my best friend in the process.
“Come on.” Arianna tips her head toward the door as she opens it. “I’ll grab a couple towels. Let the chicken fights begin!”
Chapter 3
Jack
I want to clutch my chest it hurts so fucking bad.
But my hands are busy gripping Layla’s slick calves as she rides my shoulders, tangling her fingers with Arianna’s as they both struggle and giggle trying to push the other off.
It’s hard to fucking breathe. Her cunt is rubbing on the back of my neck and if I could grow a tongue back there, I damn sure would, because her scent is about to push me over the edge. When she and my daughter came bouncing out of the pool house changing room, the desperate need I’ve had for her over the last couple years multiplied exponentially.
Carter about had a heart attack when he saw the scraps of fabric and thread she called her bathing suit, but fuck if it wasn’t like Christmas morning for me.
I could have watched her for hours just walking around. The way her ass cheeks spilled out of the bathing suit bottoms, the way her tits had that perfect amount of jiggle and movement, the way every inch of her perfection was on display.
If Carter wasn’t her brother, I would have gouged his eyes out for even glancing at her. She’s my Venus and I want to put her on a pedestal and admire her for the rest of my life.
She feels so soft sitting on my shoulders, her little toes curling as she play fights with Arianna and my dick has never been so fucking hard. I run my hands up over her knees, telling myself it’s so I can get a better grip on her, help us win this fight.
That’s bullshit.
I want to touch her everywhere, but right now, it’s her pussy pressing against me that has my insides tangled and my mind racing.
Another inch upward. It’s still okay. It’s for the game.
Liar.
Another few inches and I slip my hands over the tops of her wet thighs, holding her at the cleft where her hips bend and my fingers brush against the wet fabric between her legs.
Her muscles tighten against the sides of my neck. Jesus, I’m this close. One thin piece of fabric is keeping my fingers from touching the holy fucking grail. Her feet shift, her calves against my sides, toes locking around my back, and I swear she’s humping herself against me.
The girls grapple and shift but fuck, yes, she’s rubbing herself on me harder, faster, I can feel it in the way her body and legs tense, then soften, over and over until my dick is ready to burst and I feel the heat of her ripe cunt blossom against my skin.
This is killing me and just when I can’t take it another second, I swear to fucking god she moans, her body does this little shaking convulsion, I feel her start to lose her balance and a second later, both the girls go tumbling and splashing into the water.
Did she just fucking come on the back of my neck?
Jesus, please, yes…
I press my hand where her cunt was just a second ago, feeling the warmth and the slick wetness that doesn’t feel like pool water. I slip my finger back, rubbing my hand over my mouth taking a deep inhale as my fingers press under my nose.
Fucking yes. That’s not pool water, it’s her. The scent sends me spinning and every fantasy I’ve had about her starts to race through my mind, making me growl.
“You a sore loser?” Carter gives me a questioning look.
“No. I’d say it was a draw,” I answer, my voice stuck in my throat as I struggle to breathe. The last fucking thing I care about is the outcome of the fight.
Carter runs his hands down his damp face, watching the girls come up spitting out the pool water and pushing their wet hair back.
