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“It feels nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “It does.”

I’m drunk on the sensations swirling inside of me. The knowledge it’s just me and Liam out here—and that we’re both naked. The water is calm tonight and we’re far enough out none of the waves are breaking yet. There’s just a slight bobbing sensation as they pass us on their way to shore.

I lean my head back, letting the water soak into my hair. Reckless abandon seeps in. I spread my arms as far as they’ll go, combing through the water like it’s possible to hold. Like my grip is capable of anchoring me in one place. My feet leave the bottom, and I’m floating on my back. I close my eyes, breathing deeply.

Swimming in the middle of the night is stupid. There could be sharks or stingrays. Rip currents. But I feel safe with Liam, and it has nothing to do with the fact he’s a lifeguard who would likely know how to handle those situations. Or maybe there’s different training for pool lifeguards. It seems too trivial to ask right now.

I tilt my head to the left, so our gazes collide. A sharp thrill—like the shock of electricity—races through my system when I realize he was already looking. And that he can see everything.

There’s no reason this should feel different from any other time a boy has seen me naked. I mean, the circumstances are obviously different. Vain as it sounds, I’ve never gotten any complaints. Ever since puberty, guys have made it clear they like what they see. But Liam isn’t looking at me like he’s salivating over my boobs or wants to grab my ass.

He’s looking at me like he sees me. Really sees me. And the scary part is, I don’t think it’s an act. I don’t think he’s pretending this means something.

“Fuck.”

The word is an exhale. Awhoosh. Spoken softly, reverentially.

Suddenly, the few feet separating us feel too wide. I stop trying to stay afloat, letting my body sink beneath the waves. We’re still shallow enough I can touch the bottom. It takes me three steps until I’m so close to Liam I can see the water clinging to his eyelashes.

“Too bad nothing is going to happen.”

One corner of his mouth rises. My heart kicks into overdrive.

“You think nothing is going to happen?”

“That’s what you said last night.”

“Do youwantsomething to happen?” he asks.

I’m honest. “Yes.”

A broad hand lands on my waist. The water muffles nothing. The sensation of Liam’s hand running across my skin sends sparks flying everywhere. It explodes across my skin when he pulls me forward so our bodies collide.

I inhale, sharply. Liam’s breathing quickens.

“Do you want something to happen?” I whisper.

Instead of answering, he kisses me. Everything else fades away—the water, the moonlight, the caw of a seagull flying overhead. There’s just the wet, sensual glide of Liam’s tongue in my mouth.

He kisses me intentionally. It’s not sloppy or rushed. I surrender, letting him lead as I wind my arms around his neck and shove my hands into his hair. I’m not sure if I’ve ever kissed a guy while we were both naked. If I have, it never felt like this—this all-consuming, overwhelming sensation that feels like a more powerful force than the pull of the sea.

Our bare skin rubs and glides. Loud, greedy breaths fill the air as Liam’s mouth moves from mine down my neck. I tilt my head back, trying to give him more access. His hand cups my left breast. I whimper as a zing of arousal settles between my legs.

I moan his name and he swears. This time, the syllables are thick and rushed. His control is slipping, and I revel in it. My right hand leaves his hair and glides down his chest, tracing each ridge of his abdomen before descending lower.

Liam grabs my wrist before I reach the erection brushing against the inside of my thigh. “Not here,” he tells me, kissing me again before I can say a word.

“Worried you won’t last?” I tease when he pulls back for a breath.

“I’m not worried. I know I won’t,” he replies.

I stare at him, chewing on my bottom lip. There’s something attractive about honesty—about vulnerability. Something I’ve never noticed before. I like knowing Liam is that turned on—and that he has no problem admitting so. I’d take that over a guy who over-promises and under-delivers any day. And in my experience, that’s more often the rule than the exception.

Liam’s arm curls around my waist as he spins me around so we’re both facing away from the beach. I lean my head back against his shoulder, looking out at the horizon.

“This is my first trip to the beach,” I admit to the dark sky.

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