Out in the Surf (Out in College 9)

He had a nice mouth. His lips were full and kind of pouty. And were sexy chins a thing? ’Cause his was hot. I wanted to run my tongue along his stubbled jaw, nibble his bottom lip. He was so…

“Hot,” I blurted.

“You’re hot?”

“No, you are. Very fucking hot.”

Cal grinned. “Gee, thanks. Are you drunk on ocean water, Luca?”

“Yes. Probably. Am I dead?”

“No, you’re fine.”

“Hmph. Barely. I did everything wrong, huh?”

“Let’s just say you have room for improvement,” he replied kindly.

“Look, I know this isn’t going to come as a shock, but I’m not doing this again. I gotta think of another hobby.”

Cal huffed in amusement. “I get why you’d feel that way, but the best way to conquer fear is to keep ticking away at it.”

“Right, but I don’t think I can handle getting drunk on seawater every day. My throat feels funny. And not for any good, sexy reasons.”

“Sexy reasons?” He knit his brow.

“Blowjobs.” I made a lewd hand gesture…something I certainly wouldn’t have done in casual conversation with a handsome stranger on a random Monday morning.

But these were extenuating circumstances. I’d almost become fish food, for fuck’s sake. I was mentally and physically drained…and pretty damn sure the rules of social niceties no longer applied.

Cal chortled. See, we were on the same page.

“Blowjobs give sore throats? I’ve never heard that before.”

“Trust me, it’s a thing. Or it can be…if you get into your work.” I shrugged nonchalantly and pointed at the boat approaching us.

“Good to know.” He snorted, turning to wave. “I’m gonna jump on with you and ask them to swing by the pier. I can see your board from here.”

I was helped onto a boat and given a water bottle. I expected Cal to sit up front with the lifeguard, but he settled on the bench next to me instead.

I guzzled half the water bottle and heaved a sigh. “I’m really sorry. I swear I’m not usually this big of a dork.”

“Don’t apologize. We’ll make sure it’s less exciting next time around.” He clapped my shoulder and winked.

Fuck, that was sexy.

Or was it? Maybe something was wrong with me, ’cause this was not a sexy scenario. This was embarrassing and traumatic. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t completely exasperated with me, but he seemed so unfazed. So patient, so chill, so…kind. And yes, so damn handsome.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“You’re welcome.” Cal smiled, then uncapped his water and took a swig.

I watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat and let my dirty imagination take over for a beat. Those lips wrapped around my cock or my lips on his or—

A rogue wave tossed the boat like a bath toy, sliding him against me. He started to scoot aside when it happened again. We were glued to each other and even through the protective layers of two wetsuits, I swore I could feel his body heat. It consumed me.

It was a sharp contrast to the cold ocean water. Somehow his nearness felt like a sign or a good excuse or a moment of insanity.

Don’t ask me what I was thinking. One minute we were in an adrenaline-fused rescue; then the next we were swaying on a boat, inches apart. And something in me snapped. If this was life or death, I couldn’t let the moment pass. This was a cosmic reminder to live each day like it was your last and if this was it…

I dropped my water bottle on the floor, grabbed his face in both hands, and crashed my mouth over his.

To be perfectly honest, it was more of a mashed-lips situation than a real kiss. It was rough, overeager, and completely lacking in finesse.

I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Nope. I was caught up in an impetuous moment of crazy. However, my frenzied brain busily catalogued a few interesting tidbits I might have otherwise missed, ranging from his soft lips, to the brush of his scruffy chin against mine, to the feel of his cool skin on my fingertips.

Cal seemed too surprised to push me away or join in, but who could blame him? His problem pupil had turned out to be a raving lunatic and a kissing bandit too.

Talk about a rough Monday.

But here’s the thing…he never pushed me away. His lips softened and molded to mine and for an instant or two, that lip mash became something more.

I regained some semblance of sanity as the lifeguard slowed the boat near the pier. I pushed away, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, but Cal didn’t move at all. He looked like a marble statue, frozen in a state of shock.

He blinked wildly as he slowly came around. “Uh…”

“Hey, Cal, I can’t get any closer. You’re gonna have to jump and grab the board,” the lifeguard shouted from the front of the boat.