I gaze at his eyes and how young they still are. How they betray all the things he still wants.
“I didn’t even have a desire to try,” he murmurs.
Then he looks down at me, and everything else stops.
“But now we have you,” he tells me.
His heated stare holds me frozen, and something pulls at every inch of my skin, begging for something.
His hands. His rough hands.
Heat pools low in my belly, and I’m wet. I feel the slickness between my thighs as I throb, embarrassment rising to my cheeks.
The fishing pole slips through my fingers, I jump, sucking in a breath, and watch the stream carry it away, bobbing over the current.
“I’m sorry,” I rush out. My mouth hangs open, and I back away, looking at Jake. “I’m…”
I struggle to keep my balance on the wet rocks.
He shakes his head, his voice gentle. “It’s okay,” he says, watching me. “Tiernan…”
“I’m really sorry,” I say again and dash away, jogging back up onto the beach and heading for the pond.
I need to dive. I need my whole body under the cold water.
Oh, my God. What was that? Did he know what I was thinking? Could he tell? He’s spilling his guts, and I’m standing there, getting turned on?
I charge for the pond, the boys nowhere in sight. Dropping my shorts and peeling off my shoes, I wade into the water a few feet and dive, the cool freshwater covering my body and caressing my scalp. My pores open up, releasing more heat, and I continue swimming, not wanting to come up and show my shame.
Only when my lungs are painfully stretched do I pop up to the surface, drawing in deep breaths. The waterfall pounds, shielding all other noise and enveloping me in a sort of silence as the mist hits my face.
Jake must think I’m such a girl. Emotional. Erratic.
I close my eyes and sink under the water again. Jesus.
I swim around the waterfall, grabbing hold of the rock as the water pummels my back. The sun is gone, and I push up, gasping for air and slicking my hair back over my head.
I look around, the water pounding behind me and shielding me from everything. I spot the entrance to the cave Jake mentioned, and trail down the rock ledge, heading for it, because it’s a decent place to hide for the moment.
My feet touch sharp rocks underneath the water, patches of icy water hitting my skin as I lightly step up for support. Water flows into the cave, ledges on both sides, and the hair on my neck rises as I look around the black den. I can hop up on the pathways on the side of the tunnel and walk deeper inside. Who knows how many caves and rooms sit off to the sides?
Tipping my head back, I feel drips hit my face as the roof bleeds, and I inhale the musty scent of wet rock and dark earth that sinks into my lungs.
A giant red octopus is spray-painted on the wall to my right, chipped and worn after years of erosion. Was it here when my uncle last was?
Do the boys come here?
My stomach swirls as I close my eyes, letting my heart calm and my head wander.
I shouldn’t have been having those thoughts about Noah in the shower. I should’ve stopped Kaleb the moment he started.
I shouldn’t feel…nervous around Jake Van der Berg. I’m desperate for attention and confused.
It feels good.
And right now, I want it. Drifting away behind my closed lids, I dive deep into my head, in the dark cave and surrounded by the thunder of water, so no one can hear my thoughts except me.
Here, I’m safe.
He’s there. Close. Taking my hand.
I follow as he leads me deeper into the cavern, and I want to go with him. I want him to want me somewhere dark and private.
I stop, and he circles around me, coming up behind me and pulling the strings of my top. My bikini falls away, and my instinct is to cover myself, but he reaches around and scoops up my breasts in both hands before I have a chance.
I groan at the images in my head, grabbing onto the rock for support. The tiny pulse between my legs throbs, and I slide my hand under the water and inside my bottoms.
I breathe hard. Shit. God, I want…
I want…
He squeezes me, pulling me hard against his wet chest, and he doesn’t talk. This is a secret.
My nipples pebble, the hard, little points poking through my swimsuit top, and I rub my middle finger over my clit in small, slow circles. Gripping the rock by my head, I imagine him at my back, and I shake my head, trying to picture anyone else.
It could be anyone.
But it’s the same hard, sun-kissed body pressing into me, his rough fingers against my soft flesh, and I’m so wet and hot, and so…