11. Jake
Chapter 11
Jake
“ J akey, how’s Cora?” Hudson asks, taking a seat at the bow across from Dylan and I. Fuck, I don’t want to talk about Cora right now.
“She’s good. Out with her sister today.” Maybe if I keep it brief, he won’t probe. I haven’t mentioned Cora to Dylan even though I’ve mentioned him to her several times already. That should probably be considered a red flag, but I’m more desperate to have his name on my tongue than hers.
“Her dad nervous about reelection?”
Guess my tactic didn’t work.
“Yeah, but I think every elected official gets nervous around this time. I mean, if you don’t get reelected, what do you do, you know?”
Knox actually cracks a smile at that. “You go back to whatever white collar, elitist job you had before you pretended to give a shit about wanting to make the world a better place.”
Cora’s dad isn’t that bad for a politician. Ambition runs in his veins, but you can’t fault him for that. He’s somehow managed to stay above the line of corruption so he’ll easily be getting my vote. Nonetheless, I don’t love the direction this conversation has taken.
“Let’s talk about something else,” I mutter, feeling all of Dylan’s questions humming just below the surface of this conversation.
“Phoenix, are you still seeing that girl you met online?” Hudson chimes in.
“I was never seeing her. We fucked. Twice. That’s all.”
“Such a gentleman,” Knox teases from behind the wheel. “Alright guys, we’re here. Someone throw my anchor down, will you?”
“Got it!” I call, hopping forward four feet and opening the hatch. I’m on my knees with my ass in the air for the second time when another loud crack rings out. Opposite ass cheek this time, but twice as hard. It almost sends me into the water. I bolt upright. “Goddamn it, Hudson! You already got me back.”
Hudson holds his hands up. “Don’t look at me.”
My heart is racing in my chest. Dylan’s only halfway through his vodka and ginger ale but maybe it made him a little bolder.
He laughs and holds his cup and free hand in the air. “Not me, either.”
“Phoenix. You’re the fucking worst.”
“That’s for making fun of my dick, you jerk.” He laughs and I know he’s just fucking around. Phoenix’s dick is perfectly normal, but man, it did not like that lake.
“Alright, ladies, I’ve been driving your asses around for the last hour and a half. Someone make me a fucking drink.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” Hudson responds, digging in the cooler.
This is my favorite part. Yeah, I love being whipped around behind the boat, but getting to chill with my best friends as the adrenaline seeps out of my body is the best feeling in the world and now that Dylan is here with me, I can’t imagine anything being better.
As soon as the anchor’s down, I hold on to my hat and launch myself over the side of the boat, diving in. We come to the same cove every time so I know it’s deep enough to go in head-first even though the murky lake water prevents me from seeing the bottom.
“Dylan, you getting in?” I yell, swimming in small circles.
“Yeah, just finishing...,” he tips his cup back and drains the contents, “…my drink.”
I watch as he stands and finally strips his shirt over his head.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
This man’s body and the ink on it has me paralyzed. I want to see every fucking inch of it. I want to yank those swim trunks off and see what they’re keeping hidden from me.
I hear Phoenix first. “Sick tattoo, man.”
“Thanks.”
But it’s Hudson who leans forward, inspecting the tattoo with his face two inches from Dylan’s skin. He points to something and Dylan hooks his thumb in his waist band, pulling his trunks down dangerously low on the front of his hip. I swear to God I see dark hair and lose my fucking mind.
“Bro! Are you trying to suck his dick? Let the man in the water!” The joke — which is obviously not a joke — works and a second later, Hudson straightens up and flips me off while Dylan dives off the boat.
“Keep your panties on, princess. I was just admiring the art.”
Dylan’s body is a work of art alright.
I feel like I’ve swallowed my tongue. I’m thrashing around so much, trying to get my limbs to work that Knox throws two foam floats into the water beside me.
“Jesus, Jake. You’re making me tired. Chill out. The fuck is wrong with you?”
I swim to the raft, grateful as I cling to it. Dylan bobs back to the surface and pushes his black hair back from his face and wipes his eyes.
“Fuck this feels good,” he says with a smile, reaching for the other float. “Hey, Hudson, mind pouring another drink while you have the cooler open?”
I can’t stop staring. Jesus Christ. I thought he looked good with his shirt on, but shirtless Dylan has my cock so hard I have to keep my lower half hidden under the raft I’m desperately holding on to.
“ Jacob Samuel Ellington!” Hearing my full name pulls me out of my stupor and I turn my head toward Hudson’s voice.
“What?”
“I asked if you want one yet?” He holds up his cup and I nod my head not entirely sure mixing my current feelings and alcohol is a good idea, but also hoping it helps deflate my cock.
Dylan takes his cup and lazily kicks away from the boat while Phoenix and Knox use the ladder at the front to enter the water, both of them draping their arms over pool noodles to stay afloat. A minute later, Hudson’s arm is draped over the side, handing my drink and sunglasses down to me. After pouring his own, he slips into the water and looks around. “Damn. I poured all the drinks and you bitches took all the floats? That’s messed up,” he pouts.
“Here,” Dylan speaks up immediately. “Take this one. I’ll share with Jake.”
Oh shit.
He doesn’t give Hudson a chance to protest as he slides off the float and pushes it in Hudson’s direction. A second later, Dylan’s got his arms draped over my float, mirroring my position on the opposite side, our legs dangling in the murky water beneath us. He’s so close I can smell him. So close I can see my reflection in his own sunglasses.
Fuck me. He’s gorgeous.
“So, Dylan, how’d you get started in auto repair?” Knox asks. I’m grateful he’s including Dylan in the conversation, but I’m also desperate to have Dylan to myself. We spin the raft so Dylan’s facing Knox, Phoenix, and Hudson and my back is to them. At least while he talks, I have a reason to trace every line on his face, neck, and shoulders.
The guys keep him talking for a while and the conversation is easy. He opens up a little about his mom and then when things start to feel too heavy, Phoenix says, “Tell us more about your sister.”
Dylan chuckles, but obliges him even though he’s sure to add, “Cassie takes no shit. She wants a family and babies and no way would she tolerate your player ways.”
“Too bad, I bet you make a hot girl,” Phoenix replies.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I ask, finally joining the conversation.
“Damn. Down , Jakey. I just meant Dylan’s got his shit together. Christ, I’m not hitting on your boyfriend.”
The blood drains from my face as my eyes slam into Dylan’s before I pin Phoenix with a glare. “Don’t be a fucking asshole.”
“You’re the one who jumped on Hudson for looking at his tattoo,” Phoenix fires back.
Fuck, he’s right.
Under his breath, Dylan whispers, “It’s cool. I don’t think he meant anything by it.”
“It’s not cool. Aren’t you the one who told me to stop saying it’s okay when it isn’t?” I’m getting so riled up and I’m sure my friends are confused as hell at my response since I’m usually so laid back around them.
“Yeah, but this time it actually is okay. I don’t feel attacked. He wasn’t saying I look like a girl. I actually think he was calling me hot,” he laughs.
“That’s the problem,” I mutter under my breath. Dylan’s eyes narrow slightly and I realize he heard me.
“Well, that got out of control fast,” Hudson says, striking up a new conversation with Phoenix.
In my peripheral vision, I see Knox watching me as Dylan leans in and whispers, “Is it a problem because he thinks I’m hot or because you do?”
My eyes grow wide, but before I have to give an answer, someone pulls Dylan back into the conversation. My head is spinning so badly, I don’t even know which of my friends it is.
I stay quiet after that and focus on my drink as the guys continue talking about work, the weather, and life in general. We pass the next couple of hours drinking and playing volleyball with a floating net and ball that Knox keeps on the boat.
Me, Dylan, and Hudson are buzzing nicely. Knox is working his way back toward being completely sober, and Phoenix is trashed. I just can’t drink like that anymore — at least not without ending up in the emergency room.
Dylan let me off the hook and didn’t bring his very astute observation up again and I’ve been trying my best to keep my eyes off of him. Eventually, we all climb back on the boat and Phoenix groans as the song playing through the speakers makes its way to our ears.
“Not Bieber!” he cries, reaching his hand forward to turn the station. But Dylan stops him.
“Wait! Turn this up,” he says, his grin doing nothing to help lessen the amount of blood that’s been flowing to my dick all afternoon.
“You a Bieber fan?” I tease gently, unable to avert my gaze a second longer.
“Some of his stuff, sure, but I like Luis Fonsi more.”
Phoenix turns the volume up as requested and Dylan jumps onto the seat, using the empty cup in his hand as a microphone. He starts moving his hips expertly to the rhythm and I swear I see fucking stars. He’s wet and shirtless, dancing with perfect, tantalizing rhythm.
I sit on the opposite bench, my greedy eyes now glued to his torso as I watch in awe. And why shouldn’t I? If he wants to perform, I’ll happily give him an audience.
When he starts singing along to the part in Spanish, really putting on a show, I swallow hard and jump back overboard, needing immediate relief.
As soon as I hit the water, I take off for the opening of the cove to put as much distance between me and the boat as I can before reaching inside my swim trunks and jerking myself off hard and fast. Keeping my back to the boat, I pray the guys can’t tell what’s going on even though I feel my shoulders quake and my stomach clench with my release as shame washes over me.
When I climb back on board a few minutes later, I try to head off the questions by offering answers first.
“I think I gotta call it quits on the liquor. Between the vodka and the sun, I’m feeling a little overheated and pretty worn out, not to mention I’ve gotta piss every five minutes.” I flop onto the bench seat in front of the captain’s chair and place my hat over my face. At least I can’t be tempted to stare at Dylan if something is covering my eyes.
Although, I should know better than to worry the guys. Their training kicks in fast.
“Hud, toss me a couple bottles of water,” Phoenix demands, instantly sober. Guess he wasn’t as drunk as I’d thought. I hear the seal break on the bottle cap and feel a hand slide behind my head. Moving my hat, I look over to find Phoenix on his knees next to me, about to pour water down my throat.
“Hey, man, it’s not that bad. I didn’t mean to worry you.” A fresh wave of guilt piles on top of my shame.
“Sit up. You still need to drink this.”
Knowing arguing with him won’t get me anywhere, I do as he says and press the bottle to my lips. He opens the second one and pours it over my shoulders, letting it run down my back.
“Fuck that’s cold!” I try to lean forward, but he stops me with a hand pressed to my chest.
“Deal with it. No one’s having a heat stroke on my watch. Especially not you.”
“Why not me?”
“Because I need the Maserati for a date next week.” Phoenix grins and I shove him off me.
“If no one’s opposed, I could use some air conditioning and shade, myself,” Hudson says.
Knox must agree because he starts the boat and Dylan comes to sit next to me.
Fuck, I can’t even look him in the eye.
He knocks his shoulder into mine and I clench my jaw. “Was my singing that bad?” he jokes, forcing me to look right at him.
“What? No, of course not. It was actually pretty good. I’d love to learn Spanish.”
“I can teach you.” His voice melts into the wind whipping around us and I almost miss it. When I don’t answer right away, he leans back against the side of the boat, his hands clasped in his lap.
“Follow me,” I instruct as I stand and head toward the back of the boat. It’s not like we’ll have any real privacy back here, but as it is currently, Knox is literally right behind us, facing us, and Phoenix is sprawled out on the opposite bench seat.
I make eye contact with Hudson and nod my head toward the newly vacated seat at the front of the boat. Thankfully, he takes the hint and moves, leaving the seat behind Knox open for Dylan and I, which means everyone’s back is to us now.
I didn’t have a plan when I told him to come back here with me. I still have no idea what to say. I’m losing my mind to lust and I don’t know how to get it back.
Hell, I’m not even sure I want it back.
I lean over so he can hear me, but I keep my voice low so the other guys can’t. Dylan presses in closer until my lips are almost brushing the shell of his ear.
“It’ll be earlier than planned when we get back. You want to grab something to eat?” I’m reaching. Desperate to extend this precious day any way I can.
He looks hesitant and I know he’s thinking about work. I lean in again to try and convince him to say yes when our boat bounces through the wake of a passing vessel and my lips make contact with the skin just below his ear this time.
A shudder rips through him and he immediately drives the heel of his hand to his dick.
He closes his eyes. “Shit. Sorry. I can’t really control that,” he explains as if I don’t know how boners work.
My exhale is harsh and loud and I’m still leaning into him, unable to pull away. The feel of his bare shoulder against my bare chest is too fucking good. “No need to be sorry.” Everyone else on the boat has disappeared except the man sitting next to me.
Slowly, Dylan turns his head to look at me. “Jake, I don’t mean to be weird, but unless you back up, I don’t think this is gonna get better any time soon.”
I snap out of my haze in time to see Dylan retreating. He turns away from me and slides farther down the bench seat, putting more space between our bodies. Questions slam into me from all sides. Does he think I’m offended? Could it be possible that I turn him on like he does me? What would it be like to suck on his bottom lip?
Fuck, now I’m making myself hard.
Not wanting him to hide from me, I lightly tap his thigh with my fist. “Just one dinner. Please?”
He stares at me a full ten seconds before answering. His chest is rising and falling quickly, distracting the ever-loving fuck out of me. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
I’ve been called to several fires in the three years I’ve been with the department. Only four of them were serious. But sitting on this boat in the sun with Dylan next to me, I can’t help but feel like I’m about to go up in flames. I’m hotter than I’ve ever been under layers of protective gear standing in the mouth of a raging fire.
And all I can think is bring on the heat .