Page 66 of Barefoot Lake

“Nope!” I know I answer too quickly and hope he doesn’t pick up on it. I don’t like lying to him, especially since the whole point of this conversation is to get to know one another better, but this is a secret I haven’t told anybody, not even Mom.

I want to move off the subject as quickly as possible and shut down the prickling guilt at the back of my mind. I shift so I can see Jake’s thigh tattoo and tap a finger on the ink.

“Tell me about this.”

The image covers most of the front of his left thigh with a large antique clock face that looks like it’s been shattered in the center. Where pieces of the glass have fallen away, there’s an old compass behind that peeks through. Between the twelve and three, there are bits of frost on the clock face. Between three and six, some vines grow around the numbers. Between six and nine, the sun shines a glare on the broken shards, and between nine and twelve, leaves flutter through the cracks, swirling toward the compass.

“Scott’s always been good at drawing, but he used to be embarrassed about it. I’m guessing some asshole probably picked on him for it. I found this on his desk one day, and I dunno, I think I just really liked it. He was thrilled when I asked if he’d be ok with me getting the tattoo.” Jake shrugs. “He was in high school at the time, and so many kids are just absolute shits at that age. He always stayed kind. But it was just the two of us by then, and I wanted him to know I was proud of him and his talents.”

“It’s perfect,” I say, tracing different lines across his skin. “I don’t think tattoos need to always have some deep purpose or back story, but I think for my first one, I want to pick something really meaningful, like this. Did I tell you Reid basically forbade me from getting one?”

I gag at the memory.

He looks down at me. “You know how fucked up that is, right?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Well, if you decide on something, I’ll take you to Ila in town. She’s the best and is especially good with first-timers.”

That’s a project for another day. Tonight, Jake takes me upstairs and draws me a steaming bath in the separate claw-foot tub. I pout when he takes back his shirt, settling me in the water.

“I’m going to run next door to grab a few things, but I’ll be right back.” His expression becomes stern, and he uses what I’ve deemed his bossy sex voice. “I expect to find you right here. You got it?”

I nod, and he turns to leave.

“Yes, sir,” I say to his retreating back.

He freezes before grumbling, shaking his head, and continuing his way back downstairs.

I sink into the decadent warmth, resting my head on the towel Jake propped on the edge of the tub for me and closing my eyes.

I wake with a start to a hand trailing lazy lines up and down the inside of one of my calves.

“Hi, sleepy,” Jake says from his spot kneeling beside the tub. He’s still in the same clothes as before, and I notice for the first time that his hair is sticking up in every direction. That’s likely my fault, but I’m not the slightest bit sorry.

“I’m not sleepy!” I insist, but my yawn betrays me.

Jake shakes the water from his wet hand and begins undressing. I prop my hands behind my head and enjoy the show.

“You’re ridiculous,” Jake says once he’s naked, rolling his eyes, but I just shrug. I’m not going to pretend I don’t like looking at him.

He bends to unplug the drain in the tub and holds out his hand for me. The shower is already on behind him. He must have turned it on before waking me.

“Let’s shower and then get you to bed.”

I raise my eyebrows suggestively.

“To sleep,” Jake corrects, but his cock noticeably twitches.

I take Jake’s hand and step out of the tub, hopping from one bathmat to the next to minimize the likelihood of leaving a massive puddle in my wake.

The shower is warm, but I turn it up to “fires of hell” hot. Jake hisses as the water beating against him heats up, but beyond a glare, he doesn’t object.

His body blocks most of the spray, but water is dripping from his hair, making rivulets down his body, and I’m reminded of him standing in my doorway after falling in the lake. This time, though, nothing stops me from touching him.

I step forward, pressing my hands to his ribs and licking one of the droplets running down his chest. Jake captures my face between his hands and tips my head back so he can kiss me deeply. I melt into him, pressing my body completely against his.

He slowly turns us until I’m under the water and starts running his fingers through my hair. He keeps turning us until he’s blocking the water again. I like our little shower dance.