Page 87 of The Storm

“Truce.” I hold both my hands up.

“It’s a bit late for that.” He lowers his hand into the water again.

I quirk my brow at him before I lean, and the kayak tilts just a bit.

He stills.

I look at the water pointedly, then at him.

“You wouldn’t,” he says.

I narrow my eyes. “Wouldn’t I?”

“Blue,” he says sternly.

I grin.

And jerk my whole body to the left.

The kayak tips. There’s a split second when his mouth opens as if he’s about to say something, then cold water rushes over us.

I come up laughing, spluttering, pushing wet hair out of my face.

Nick surfaces a second later, gasping. “What the hell?”

“You started looking even hotter. I did you a favor.” I’m barely holding back laughter, but I do my best to look serious, even if my lips keep twitching. “You could have overheated, Nicholas.”

He drags his hand over his face and shakes his head. He tries to look stern, but there’s a beat, and then he snorts. He starts to laugh.

We drift for a second, both moving our arms and legs slowly, both with one hand on top of the kayak.

He lunges for me and grabs the back of my neck, and then he’s pulling me closer until his mouth covers mine. My hands go to his cheeks. We’re pressed together, chest to chest, not an inch of space between us.

We kiss.

Nick’s teeth sink into my lower lip, and even though the water is cold, we’re both hard.

And I do my best to catalogueeverythingabout this moment.

He groans into my mouth, and I drink down every sound and the way his fingers grip my back and my neck and his feet tangling with mine.

The kiss grows hungry and impatient. His hand moves from my back to my shorts, where he cups my dick, and all my brainactivity comes to an abrupt halt. My body stills because I forget I’m supposed to move. I go under. Nick wraps his hand around my forearm and pulls me back to the surface.

“Idiot.” He says it with the same affectionate tone I used when I called him a dick earlier.

“Turns out you’re still too hot.” I sound breathless. Stupidly, revealingly so. But I don’t care.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he says.

I dunk him.

He comes up spluttering.

And I laugh until my face starts to hurt.

It becomes a thing.

Me and him.