Don’t You Dare

“What do you mean, another surprise?” Keene asks as I drag him off the boardwalk and into the sand. It squeaks between our toes as we head toward Haystack Rock, just off the coast.

“You act like they aren’t your favorite thing in the world. You almost shit yourself when we planned that surprise party for you after you won the State Championship junior year.”

“Yeah,” he says with a nod. “Literally almost shit myself, because I wasn’t expecting it.”

“But you still liked it,” I counter, making my original point. “And this doesn’t really involve anyone jumping out from behind furniture.”

He lets out a laugh, his fingers squeezing mine before finally relenting. “Fine. I guess the first surprise was okay, so—”

“Just okay?” My brow hitches up when I look over at him. I know for a fact he’s had the time of his life today; I made damn sure of it.

His grin grows. “Oh my God, do you need me to stroke your ego now or something? You know what I meant.”

Rolling my teeth over my bottom lip, I hit him with a heated gaze. “It’s definitely not my ego that I want you to stroke, Kee.”

A tiny hint of pink hits his cheeks while he continues smiling. “I think that can be arranged. Later.”

Oh, I’m counting on it.

I have every intention of laying him down and worshiping every inch of his gorgeous, carved body all damn night. Just like I did multiple times last night.

But, for now, it can wait.

Once we get close enough for a good angle of the town’s famous icon, I pull Keene to a stop beside me. He looks confused as I drop my bag to the ground.

“Just give me a second. Stand right there with your back to the rock.”

Of course, the second I pull my camera free, slinging it over one shoulder and across my chest, Keene makes a noise I can only describe as obscene irritation.

My gaze rises to meet his. “Problem, Waters?”

“More pictures of me? Seriously?”

I have to laugh at the indignation laced in his tone. “Just cool it, okay? It’s not what you’re thinking.”

It’s not. I have something a little different planned than taking an obscene amount of pictures of Keene. He must not believe me, though, from the look on his face as I unpack my tripod. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was trying to figure out a way to toss me into the freezing cold ocean.

It takes only a few minutes for me to get the tripod set up before snapping a few photos of Keene to adjust my settings. He glares, of course, and flips me the bird.

“It’s not what I’m thinking, my ass,” he mutters. “I swear to God, I’m gonna steal that thing from you one day and fill your SD card with pictures of you sleeping.”

There’s no doubt in my mind he’d do something like that in retaliation, and it just makes me laugh as I set the camera on the tripod before adjusting the rest of my settings and putting the autofocus on Keene.

“Calm down, pretty boy. And whatever you do, don’t move from that spot.”

“Fine. If it gets me back to the hot tub faster, I’ll do whatever you say.”

I snort and shake my head. Leave it to Keene to try and ruin another part of his surprise with an attitude the size of Everest.

“Hey, Kee?”

“Yeah?”

I glance up at him from over the camera, clicking the final setting for the timer. “How good are you at catching?”

He blinks at me as if I’m stupid and frowns. “I’m literally a catcher, Pen. What kind of question is that?”

“Just making sure,” I murmur to myself.

With everything ready to go, there’s nothing left to do but click the shutter and quickly bolt around the tripod toward him. Which I do, only confusing him more.

“Better think fast,” I say as I jump into his arms. My legs wrap around his waist and I cling to him like a damn monkey climbing a tree before planting my lips on his.

He catches me, even with being taken by surprise for the first half-second. But then his hands grip my thighs, just below my ass, and he tugs me to him as his mouth molds to mine. One of my palms cups the side of his face, and I dive in for more, kissing him like he’s the air I breathe.

Our tongues roll and mate together in a slow, seductive dance that I never want to end, and even though I know the camera’s long since stopped snapping images, I keep kissing him.

Because I can.

Because he’s mine.

Minutes pass before Keene pulls away. His lips are red and swollen, his voice breathless when he whispers, “Was that the surprise?”

I nod. “You’d said you wanted me to get out from behind the camera for a change,” I murmur before pressing another kiss to his lips. “I just figured it would be a lot more fun to do that with you.”

Instead of responding, he kisses me again. This time, more fiercely. Hungrily. Like he wants to devour me whole in this very spot. I’d let him. Fuck, I’d let him have whatever he wants if it meant I never had to give this moment up.

“You’re getting me hard in public,” I murmur into his lips as he continues to nip and suck at mine.

“Now you know how I felt at breakfast, having to listen to your filthy mouth.”

A chuckle rumbles up from my chest. He has a point, though doing that wasn’t at all intentional. However, what he’s doing right now is one hundred percent planned, and if he wants to play dirty, I’ve got no qualms about doing the same.

My feet kick at the backs of his knees, taking both of us down to the ground in a tumble of limbs. I land on top of him, and he bursts out laughing the second his back hits. We’re both covered in grains of sand that we’ll probably be washing out of our hair for a week.

“A jackass, like always.”

If wanting him on the ground beneath me so I can roll my hard cock against his makes me a jackass, I’m more than happy to claim that title.

Giving him a slow roll of my hips, he moans, and I swallow it down with another searing kiss.

I’d take him right here and now on the beach if I knew we wouldn’t get arrested. Sure, the beach has been mostly abandoned as it is, with only a few other tourists and a lone surfer out in the ocean, but that’s enough to keep me from putting my idea into action. I’m putting a pin in it for later tonight, though, when we have the cover of darkness and our own stretch of private beach.

My lips curl up into a grin when he pulls back enough to meet my gaze, then fixating his attention on my mouth. At first I think he’s gonna cuss me out some more—which is the reason for my smile. I never expected him to say what he does next.

“Your smile makes me stupid,” he mutters, reaching up to run his thumb over my bottom lip. It tracks over to the left side, dipping down to where my dimple is making an appearance. “This makes me pretty stupid too.”

His declaration makes me smile more, his finger sinking deeper into the divot when I do. My heart stumbles and stutters in my chest as he continues to touch me in a way that’s both foreign and familiar all at once.

In reverence. With…love.

Maybe that’s part of the reason I get this aching feeling when I have my hands anchored in his hair as he works my cock with his mouth, or why I can’t get enough of the taste of his tongue as it spears between my lips. Because it might be new and crazy and terrifying, but it’s also everything I could ask for.

And all I know is…I want more.

More of Keene, and in ways I’ve never wanted anyone else.

In ways I’ve never wanted him before now.

You have to be all in.

I glance up when emotions start clogging my throat, only to find a surfer with an orange board standing near the edge of the waves just…watching us. From the looks of it, he has been for a while now. And instead of feeling weird about it or wanting to push Keene away, I find myself wanting to do the exact opposite.

I wanna put on a show. Pull him closer. Kiss him again.

Claim him right here and now.

So I do.

Even if the surfer dude is the only one around to see, it doesn’t make Keene any less mine.

The thing about the Pacific Northwest is that the weather can change on a dime, and today is a perfect example. After another thirty minutes of taking stupid, goofy pictures both together and of each other, I notice storm clouds starting to roll in off the coast. I barely have time to get my camera equipment together in my bag and shove it under my shirt before the downpour starts.

I guess it’s not a terrible thing, since it washes any remaining sand from us by the time we make it back to the Impala completely soaked. But the smile on his face as he shakes out his dripping hair is so worth it.

Turning the ignition over, I pull out of the parking lot and head down the road back to the cottage. On the way, I feel the heat of Keene’s stare on me, devouring every wet inch of my body with his eyes alone.

It makes me hot all over, but not as much as his tongue catching a drop of water cascading over his lip.

I groan. “Keep staring at me while doing that, and we aren’t gonna make it back to the house.”

Of course, he takes that as a challenge, sliding across the bench seat until he’s directly next to me. “Doing what, exactly?”

I don’t answer him, trying to concentrate on the road ahead and not crashing my car, but he makes it really difficult when he palms my cock over the wet denim of my jeans, rubbing and squeezing my thickening length until we pull into the driveway.

“Get inside,” I mutter through clenched teeth before bolting for the house. He’s right behind me as I unlock the door and shove it open with purpose, finally out of the rain. I’m in the foyer a second later, and he slams the door closed behind us before pulling me against him and diving in.

Lips devour lips, tongues battle with each other, fighting about which one belongs in whose mouth while we grind and roll together in a wet, panting mess. It’s frenzied and needy, while still being seductive. Sweet nips and gentle caresses paired with complete desperation for the other.

It’s deliciously addictive. Pure passionate sin rolled into one mind-boggling kiss.

But I’ve come to realize, it’s not just his kiss that I’m hooked on. It’s everything about him.

Keene.

My best friend.

The only person who has the power to completely ruin me.

And I might just let him.

The thought has me grinding to a halt, because this is exactly what I’ve tried to protect myself from, especially when it comes to this thing between us. This beautiful, epic, and potentially tragic thing that absolutely terrifies me.

Can anyone blame me, though? I can’t destroy everything we’ve built together for our entire lives if this goes wrong. Because I could lose everything in my life, every damn person or thing I hold dear, and I’d be okay.

Just not him.

God, never him.

My heart thumps wildly in my chest when I pull away, chest heaving with effort. And then I do the scariest thing I’ve done yet; I let myself crack open a little more for him.

“I want you. So much, I can’t think. Can’t breathe. I can’t do anything but want you.”

And I do. In every sense of the word, I want him.

Need him. Crave him.

Every piece of who he is, I want to claim as mine.

He swallows, his face more serious than I’ve probably ever seen. Almost like he’s in pain. “You already have me.”

Four words, and my heart explodes.

I reel him back to me, my mouth hungry and greedy for him. His tongue slips past my lips again, and I take pull after pull of it while I push him back against the door. My hands work their way beneath his shirt, determined to feel his soft, smooth skin against mine as soon as possible.

He rolls his hips forward, the length of his cock creating the perfect amount of friction against mine beneath our wet clothes. But I want nothing between us. I want to be surrounded by him. Enveloped in him.

Taken captive by every single thing about him that I’ve fallen in love with.

The second he rips his mouth from mine, I’m desperate to reel him back in for more. But God, there’s something to be said for how beautifully wrecked he is right now, pressed up against me. Hair drenched from the rain, mouth red and swollen from my kiss. I don’t think there’s ever been a sexier sight in my life, and it only solidifies my thinking from on the beach.

I want more, however I can get it.

Giving this up would be like living without oxygen.

Impossible.

We continue to stare, drinking one another in as we catch our breath. I can see a tiny spark in his eyes where something mischievous is forming.

“What is it?”

His tongue darts out, catching a drop of water trailing over his lip like he did in the car. And when his look turns downright devious, I have a feeling I know exactly where he’s going with this before he even asks the question.

“Don’t you dare?”