I wanted to know what freedom tasted like. I wanted to know what it was like to not abide by the rules of whatever society my parents had confined me to. Coming here was an act of rebellion, so I wanted to continue the rebellious streak and know what it was like to bend the rules.
“What else is on that list?”
“Lots of things.” I moved my hands around in the water.
The one thing I hadn’t considered when I ran into the lake in the dark was how many different creatures could be lurking, and if I sat still for too long, that would freak me out.
“Fucking in the lake?” He splashed some water in my direction and chuckled.
I looked at him, my jaw dropping and my brain short-circuiting for a second. “I, uh?—”
It was so crude and brash, and no one where I was from ever spoke to me like that... ever.
Shit. I can’t say I hated it.
“I’m kidding,” he laughed and then held up his hands. “I’m going to get out because it’s getting cold as fuck sitting in the water, but when I get to shore, I’ll turn the other way and wait until you tell me it’s safe to turn around.”
“Oh, uh, okay. Thank you.”
Yeah, I was definitely still short-circuiting, completely unable to form a coherent sentence.
He started walking out of the water, but before stepping away completely, he glanced at me. “Don’t go back out there because I’m way too cold and soaked to be rescuing you again. You promise?”
I laughed lightly. “I swear.”
“Good,” he muttered and continued out of the water.
He stood on the sand, dripping wet, with the moonlight casting shadows across his frame, and turned the other way.
I began to make my way out of the water, but then he reached for his waistband, shoving his wet boxers down his legs. I froze. His ass was right there, perfectly sculpted and illuminated by the moonlight. I stopped and stared, unable to look away. It was amazing—firm, toned, the kind of sight that made me forget everything else.
When had I last seen a man like this? A man who lookedthisgood? I couldn’t remember. I hadn’t had sex since I left Georgia,not since college when I dated a guy my parents approved of—some nice, well-mannered boy who fit their expectations perfectly. His ass never lookedthisgood, even in broad daylight, let alone in the dark with the moon casting shadows.
Hot Brother? He was on another level.
“I don’t hear you walking out. Did you drown or something?”
As I opened my mouth to respond, he chuckled. “Quit staring.”
My embarrassment spiked, and a flush crept all the way up my neck. I wanted to launch myself out of the water.
“I was not staring,” I said in protest, trying to cover up my lie.
I darted across the sand to where I’d stashed my dress and underwear. I yanked on the dress, grateful it was a long linen maxi, and then grabbed the underwear and shoved it in between my boobs. The only benefit of being busty on top was the fact that they could be used to carry things if I needed a purse.
I grabbed my wallet, keys, and phone, making sure nothing was stolen before I looked up. Hot Brother was a few feet away, now tugging on his shirt after pulling on his pants.
I walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. “I wasn’t staring. I was looking at your tattoo.” I nodded toward the ink covering the center of his chest—dark black swirls with the sun shining upon it.
“Oh.” He glanced down and palmed it. “It’s new-ish. I got it a couple years ago.”
“What is it?” I took a step closer, trying to figure out the design.
“Just a design.” He splayed his hand over his chest to cover up whatever it was. “Can I walk you out of here before we get arrested?”
I laughed. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”
“Do you live nearby?”
