Gift From The Bad Boy

I scowled and turned to swim to the edge so I could climb out and start to dry myself off. I was shivering already. The skin on my arms and legs was riddled with goosebumps. I took two strokes, teeth chattering, before I heard the scuffle of boots on rock and then a wild, banshee wail.

I flipped onto my back to see Ben, knees tucked into his chest, leap into the air over the water, mouth open wide in a happy, wordless holler.

I yelped and kicked away hard as he smashed into the surface. A giant plume of water sucked in and shot straight up where he’d landed. Massive waves roiled outwards from the epicenter of his cannonball, swamping me in their path. I bobbed up and down in the current as it started to settle down, watching and wondering where Ben was. I was starting to get a little bit worried. Had he hit his head on the bottom? Did he get his foot trapped below a rock? Finally he emerged, sticking his head above the water before shaking it like a wet dog. His grin was lopsided, goofy, and unbelievably contagious. I felt myself smiling without even trying to.

He took two broad strokes to knife across the water and bump softly into me. He encircled me in his arms. Then his chest was against mine and his mouth was against mine and the last barrier fell away from between us as his tongue swept across my lips before diving in. His kiss was hot, warm, and as wide open as it could have been. It was like he wanted to taste every ounce of me. I wanted the same from him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed back, hard and fiery.

We were bouncing up and down, wrapped tightly around each other, as the pool gradually recovered its stillness. His breath and mine mingled in each other’s mouths. Ben leaned forward slightly and kicked, propelling us towards the edge of the pond. I felt the soft, grassy bank bump up against my back. He found his feet and stood, scooping me up with him in an effortless motion before laying me right back down just above where the water lapped onto the shore. He never stopped kissing me.

His body was wide and smooth, all wet, shiny muscle. I peeled his shirt up, breaking our kiss only for as long as it took to get the thing over his head and off of him. It made a sucking noise as I tossed it aside, like it didn’t want to give him up. That was too bad for it, because he was all mine. All of him was mine—his arms, his chest, his soft, brushing lips. The wet curls on his head were mine, and the growing stiffness between his legs would be mine just as soon as I could fight with his jeans to claim it for myself, too, or rather, to let myself be claimed by him.

He kissed me like he wanted the world to know I was his, and I was glad to let him. I wanted to be his, to be Ben’s. His hand found the bottom edge of my shirt and tried to tug it upwards, but the way I was laying prevented him from pulling it off. I started to lean upwards to let him work it off of me, but he pulled back, frowned, and with two hands tore it clean down the middle.

“You ripped my shirt!” I gasped in surprise, pretending to be angry.

He gave me that cocky smile, the one I couldn’t resist. “Cost of doing business, babe.” Then he descended back onto me, biting and sucking at my lips. I moaned, unable to keep all the tension inside of me.

He pawed at my breasts, bare since I had decided against wearing a bra that morning, and slid down me to take each nipple into his mouth one at a time. His teeth raked tenderly over the sensitive flesh as he suckled at me. After the freezing cold water, his hot mouth was heavenly against my skin. While he nipped at me, his other hand moved down to my jeans.

He didn’t hesitate to slip his hands down further to cup my mound. The merest touch was already almost too much to handle. It had been such a long waiting game, so many days of my body crying out for Ben while my brain steadfastly refused. Now, though, I had his hands and his mouth and his everything, all to myself in this hidden oasis in the desert.

He let my breasts fall from his mouth and sat back on his heels so he could rip my jeans off. I raised my legs to help him and he pulled them away in one clean swoop, throwing them over his shoulder next to where I’d cast aside his shirt. He didn’t wait long to bring his mouth down to the crease in my hip, biting hard enough to leave a mark before gliding across my waist to the other side.