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It wasn’t me imagination. I felt him grow bigger inside as his balls kept up their sensual assault on me arse.

“Cord!” I screamed out at the same time he cried out me name.

Everything around me stopped and the only thing I could feel was Cord inside of me. Me body humming with my orgasm. Cord’s head dropped back as he let out a long moan, spilling himself into the condom, and I couldn’t help but wish he was coming into me. I wanted us to be truly connected as one. No barriers, no hiding. We’d been hiding from each other for too long and now it was our time to share everything with each other.

His body slumped, and he rested on his elbows, careful not to put too much weight onto me.

Our bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat. Chests heaving up and down as much-needed air was dragged into our lungs. Wrapping me arms around his neck, our eyes met. No words needed to be spoken. It was just the two of us in this organic, raw moment of vulnerability.

He was mine.

I was his.

Forever.

We stayed at the hotel Friday and Saturday night, and returned to my folks’ lake house on Sunday morning, at my mother’s request. She felt terrible for pushing us to a hotel, even though I told her it was fine. We would all spend Sunday at the house and then home Monday morning.

“Trevor give you a call at all this weekend?” Tripp asked, casting his line out.

“Only a couple of times to say everything was okay.”

My father leaned back and let out a contented sigh. Glancing over, I asked, “Dad, why are you wearing that vest?”

He glanced down to his new life jacket that the guy at the sports store had talked him into buying.

“It’s a flotation device, son, that was made for fishermen. See how thin it is. Just in case something happens, and I’m thrown from the boat, it will inflate, roll me over and make sure my face is out of the water.”

“You plan on falling out of the boat anytime soon?” Steed asked as the rest of us chuckled.

“You’re dad’s right. Safety should always come first.”

We all turned to look at Jonathon, who also had the same damn vest on, looking like a fucking idiot doing the twinsie thing. “Says the kiss-ass who bought one too,” I replied.

Jonathon glared at us. “I’m not a kiss-ass. I happen to believe in safety and being prepared.”

Wade laughed. “So the fact that John bought one didn’t factor into your purchase at all, huh?”

My father turned to Jonathon, clearly amused at where this was going. I think he loved giving his son-in-laws hell even more than we did.

“No, it didn’t.”

“Come on, Jonathon,” my father said. “Let’s call a spade a spade. You’re kissing my ass.”

Jonathon’s mouth dropped open. “I’m not!”

“If the shoe fits, dude,” Steed added.

“Why would I need to kiss his ass? I’m already married to Waylynn, and we have a baby. That makes no sense.”

My father chuckled and shook his head. “Alright, boys. Let’s leave Handy Smurf alone. I’d rather focus on Gutsy Smurf here.”

All of us froze, especially me.

“How in the hell do you know about the Smurfs?” I asked, my face draining of blood. I was probably white as a ghost.

My father pointed to Tripp. “Your brother filled me in.”

Steed and Mitchell both laughed, as did Jonathon and Wade.

“I still never got my name. Did I?” Mitchell asked.

“Dude, you’re Tracker Smurf, the whole cop thing,” Wade replied.

“I think I should be Brainy,” Tripp said.

My eyes darted around the boat until they landed on Tripp, who was doing his best to hold back his smile.

“What’s mine?” Wade asked. “Did I ever officially get one?”

Snapping my head back to him, I was about to answer when my father did. My father, of all people!

“Wade, I think you’re Narrator Smurf. You sit back and take it all in and retell it better than the rest of us.”

I swear to God, Wade’s fucking chest puffed out. “Narrator Smurf, I like it.”

“No, I do the names!” I called out.

My father scoffed. “Not anymore. You’re tainted. You’ve become one of us. Honestly, I think you’re better suited as Jokey Smurf instead of Gutsy Smurf.”

All the men in the boat fucking pointed to me and let out a “Yes!”

I shook my head. “I do the names!” I shouted.

“Papa Smurf has spoken, dude, let it go,” Jonathon said with a shit-eating grin. Being the kiss-ass that he was, he had to agree with my dad. Well, fuck that.

Walking over to him, I pulled on the yellow cord and his flotation device inflated, causing him to stumble back and go right over the side of the boat and into the water.

Raucous laughter filled the boat as I looked at Jonathon struggling in the water. When he glanced up at me and shot me the finger, I gave him a smile and returned the gesture.

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