The Summer of Us (Mission Cove 1)

Straddling my thighs, she was every fantasy I had ever had, hovering over me. The sunroof allowed the dim moonlight to filter into the back of the car as the clouds lifted. Sunny’s hair was mussed from my hands, falling in masses of messy waves down her back. Her loose T-shirt hung off her shoulders, the strap of her camisole pushed away by my eager hands. I loved her soft skin. How it tasted under my tongue. Felt under my touch. I wanted to feel all of it. All of her.

She bit her lip, then nodded. I pulled her back to my mouth.

In seconds, we were a mass of fingers and lips. Her tongue on mine was sweet and soft. The sound of my zipper being pulled down was loud in the car—the metal teeth opening, her fingers fumbling on the button, and then the feel of her hand wrapped around my dick. I groaned at the sensation. It was so different from my own hand. Smoother, more hesitant.

Better.

She began to stroke me. Gently.

“Harder, Sunny.” I wrapped my hand around hers. “Like this,” I whispered, my cock jumping as she worked me. “Yes. Like that.”

Our mouths fused together again. Bravely, I ran my hand up the back of her leg, slipping it between her thighs and finding the sweet secret they hid. I dipped my finger inside her, finding her slick and ready.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so soft. So wet.”

“I always am for you.”

Her words made me harder. Her hand around my dick made me frantic. The feel of her on my fingers made me want more. All of her.

But for now, I would settle for this. I knew we were both virgins. Learning each other for the first time. I wanted to make it good for her.

Her hand wrapped around my cock ensured it would be good for me.

The car filled with low gasps and moans. The windows began to steam up. I stroked and teased, finding her clit and rolling it, listening to her reactions and trying to respond to them. I sank one finger inside her, still playing with her clit. She gasped and stroked me faster, rocking against my hand. Our lips met in long, wet kisses, our tongues stroking and teasing. She moved faster. Gripped me harder. My balls began to tighten, and I buried my head in her shoulder.

“Not gonna last,” I managed to grit out.

She gasped suddenly, arching over me, her body taut. I swear I saw stars as my own orgasm shot through me, and I came all over her hand, thrusting hard and not caring.

She collapsed on top of me, her warm weight welcome. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.

“Holy fuck,” I gasped.

She slapped my chest. “Language.”

I pushed her heavy hair away from her face. “I didn’t expect that.”

She lifted her head, meeting my gaze. “Me either, but it felt right.” She grinned. “In fact, it felt fucking awesome.”

I burst out laughing at her curse. She rarely ever swore, and if she did, it was something mild like hell or damn. Hearing her say fuck was sexy. In fact, it got me hard again. Her lying on top of me didn’t help.

She glanced at me, arching an eyebrow. I shrugged.

“What do you expect? I’m seventeen, and you just gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Of course, I want more.”

“More than my hand?”

“I know we’re not ready for that. But whatever you want to give me, I’ll take.”

She smiled, tracing my jaw with her finger. “Just think, Linc. We have all summer. A whole summer of this. Of us.”

I grabbed her, kissing her hard. “Yeah. All summer.”I braced my foot against the bottom of the deck and pulled at the rotted stump. It finally gave way, and I fell back into the dirt with a groan. I pushed the offending mass of roots and wood off me and stood, dusty, hot, and happier than I had felt in ages. I pulled off my shirt and wiped my face.

A throat clearing made me look up. Gerry Braun stood, his arms folded over his chest, studying me. I had been at the camp for three days and worked my ass off. This was no cushy assistant’s job. This was a do-whatever-has-to-be-done job, and although I was sure my father thought he was punishing me, I loved it.

Gerry approached, holding out a bottle of water. I accepted and downed it in long swallows, then pushed the sweaty hair off my forehead.

Silently, he handed me a brown bag, and I looked inside, grateful to see a thick sandwich and an apple. I sat down on the steps and began eating. Gerry sat next to me, placing another bottle of water on the steps beside me.

“Stay hydrated.”

I grunted around a mouthful of ham. His wife was a stellar cook, and I was going to enjoy eating this summer. If all my work was like this, I would burn it off fast and my father would never know.