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“Same.” I eat another grape.
We go back and forth for a while, sticking mostly to easy topics like preferred pets and food, but when we’ve covered all those, things turn personal.
“Would you rather your parents stayed together, or things work out the way they did?” Wes asks.
“No one wants their parents to get divorced.” I play with the beach towel, “But we’d probably all be miserable if they stayed married.”
“Hmm,” he seems to agree.
“Would you rather take me to prom as your step sister or your date?” I squint to see his face in the sun.
“You know the answer to that,” he says softly.
“Fine. Would you rather our parents hadn’t met or tell your friends about us?”
“I’d rather not ruin this day talking about stuff we can’t change.” He sits up and rests his arms on his knees, staring at the stand.
“You started it.”
“I didn’t mean to. I asked because you seem to be getting along with your dad better than I expected you to when you first moved in. I was wondering if that made you wish they hadn’t split. It was a bad question.”
“You still have to answer it.”
He stands up and reaches for my hand. “Come on. Let’s go swimming.”
“Answer the question.”
He seems to think it over for a second before he suddenly plucks me off the ground and tosses me over his shoulder.
“What are you doing? Put me down,” I shriek.
“Nope.” He pinches the back of my thigh. “No more serious shit. We’re here to have fun.”
I pinch his butt in return.
“Now you’re asking for it.” He wades into the water and tosses me into the waves, laughing mischievously, the whole time. He’s still laughing when I surface, so I launch onto his back and try to wrestle him down with me. He’s as easy to move as a tree trunk, but I can tell he’s playing nice when he lets me submerge him. I feel victorious for all of two seconds before my mind registers how hot he is dripping wet. Damn.
I jump on him again, determined to take my revenge and get my mind off his body, but he catches me and drags my legs around his waist. “You’re gonna wear yourself out if you keep trying to dunk me.”
“I did it once, I can do it again.” I squeeze my legs around his waist and throw my weight backward to take him down with me, but I only end up rubbing myself against him. He goes eerily still, his expression morphing from playful to predatory in an instant.
“Would you rather I kiss you just this once or not at all?”
I blink, stunned, wondering if I heard right.
“Fuck it,” he growls.
His lips are soft but unrestrained when they meet mine, the pent-up tension too much for either of us to control. Our kisses are frantic, our breathing ragged, our moans of pleasure desperate and relieved at the same time. I’m in heaven.
One hand cups the back of my head in his palm, guiding me to the angle he wants. Our tongues meet for the first time, and I’m helpless to stop the muffled cry that escapes.
“Sawyer,” he groans.
Though I’ve never had my limbs wrapped around a guy before, the urge to get closer is instinctual. I clench my legs around his waist, bringing our bodies flush together as I trail my fingers through his hair. His hands drift to my ass, holding me against him.
“Yes,” I moan as he grips at my ass, pressing me against the hard length between my legs. It feels divine, something between a tingle and an ache. My hips rock back and forth of their own volition, hitting a spot that makes me gasp in pleasure. It must work for Wes too, because he groans again.
“Fuck, Sawyer. We shouldn’t. We can’t.”
