Fool Me Once

A hand grabs my ankle, and I let out a shriek even though I know it’s Keegan. Yanking me back, his hands splay across my stomach as he pulls me into a standing position so his front is flush with my back. Then he moves us until we’re back under the grotto, the same spot where we wet humped each other the other night—when I got myself off using his dick. It’s late now, probably close to ten o’clock, and everyone around us is either drunk or well on their way to being drunk.

Keeping my back to him, Keegan nudges my hair to the side and brings his mouth down to the skin that covers my pulse point, licking and suckling on my sensitive flesh. Even in the warmth of the pool, I shiver, and Keegan chuckles.

“I love the way your body responds to mine,” he whispers into my ear. His hands move at the same time, one ascending to my breast, and the other descending to the apex of my thighs. His lips go back to trailing kisses all over my shoulder and neck and collarbone. His fingers pinch my hardened nipple through my bikini top, and his other hand enters my bottoms. He wastes no time pushing his thick fingers into me, his thumb gliding across my swollen clit. Even over the blaring music, I can hear myself panting as Keegan skillfully brings me to an orgasm, continuing his delicious onslaught until I’ve completely come down from my high.

Turning around, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his mouth down to mine. My legs wrap around his torso, and my center rubs against his hard dick that’s clearly standing at attention. His tongue enters my mouth, and every swipe is frenzied, frantic.

“Take me up to your room,” I murmur against his lips. He doesn’t have to be told twice. Refusing to put me down, Keegan carries me through the lobby, into the elevator, and through his hotel room. Mitch and Holly are in the main area when we crash through the door. They both laugh, but Keegan pays them no mind. He’s on a mission and won’t be deterred.

The second he lays my wet body on his bed, he pushes his shorts down and flings them into the corner, exposing his perfect dick. It’s smooth and thick. The head is slightly pink and looks swollen. There’s a single vein that runs from root to tip, and he’s neatly trimmed everywhere. He grabs a condom and rips it open. I watch with reverence and awe as he rolls it on, remembering when I had my mouth wrapped around it. It tastes as good as it looks.

Once he’s completely sheathed, he pulls my bikini bottoms down and spreads my legs. When he enters me, his hands land on either side of my head, his mouth next to my ear. “This is without a doubt my favorite spot in the entire world,” he whispers. “I could stay right here, inside of you for the rest of my life.”

I refuse to read too much into his words. It’s his dick talking, not his heart. We’ve only known each other for a few days, and tomorrow he’s going home. The next day I’ll be gone as well. And this week will be nothing more than a distant memory.

“Come for me, Jailbird,” he murmurs. “Come all over my dick, baby.”

Closing my eyes, I push away everything except Keegan and me. I can think about everything else later. Right now, it’s just the two of us, our bodies connected in the most intimate way possible. And with that thought, I release a cleansing breath and allow myself to let go.

“Where have you been all week?” my sister asks, zipping up her luggage. She almost sounds like she actually cares.

“Just enjoying the sights,” I say, not completely lying. This morning, after Keegan and I had the most amazing morning sex, followed by breakfast in bed, we said our goodbyes. We didn’t exchange numbers or make any ridiculous promises to keep in touch. He kissed me goodbye and thanked me for making his trip memorable. A part of me wishes he would’ve at least asked for my number, but a bigger part of me is glad he didn’t. I would’ve told him no, and it would’ve ended our week on a bad note. Instead, it ended perfectly.

“Why are you packing?” I ask, realizing she’s not just zipping her luggage, but actually packing up as if she’s leaving when we don’t leave until tomorrow.

“Imani and I got into a fight. She’s staying and I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

Sierra glances warily at me for a long moment, as if she’s warring with herself, trying to decide if she should let me in or push me away.

“You can talk to me,” I prompt.