Chapter Four
Finn
Ryder emerged a few hours later. His gait was confident as ever, but his face was downcast. He approached us, but didn’t speak until he was in front of his brother. “Sorry for being an asshole. Let’s just forget it and have fun.”
“Forgotten,” Miles said, before standing up and hugging his brother. But he couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Just stop being such a pouty little bitch, and we’ll have a great time.”
Tyler and Connor were in the pool, and Jason was napping under an umbrella. I was the only one who saw Ryder’s gritted teeth, fluttering eyes, and flared nostrils as they hugged.
Ryder let go and said, “Yup,” before taking his seat on the other side of the sleeping Jason.
Miles smiled as if all were right in the world. How he couldn’t see that was far from reality, but I could, made the throbbing above my eyebrow worse.
Ryder didn’t get to sit for long. Tyler and Connor got out of the pool and announced that it was almost time for jet skiing.
Their booming excitement, maybe because they noticed Ryder was back and Miles was smiling, or maybe from the five beers they each drank, woke Jason and motivated the rest of us to get in gear.
“Yup, your partner is your roommate,” Tyler said, answering Jason’s groggy question.
Jason responded with a suppressed groan.
The place was a twenty-five-minute walk through Miami’s humidity to the Biscayne Bay Area.
It was brutal, and I cursed Connor the entire time.
We wanted to take an Uber, but he insisted it wouldn’t be that bad and would help with our tans.
Something, according to him, Tyler and I desperately needed.
“Also,” Connor had said, “why waste money on rideshare when we can just hoof it? Buncha pansy asses.”
I got burned on my shoulders and nose instead, despite reapplying sunscreen. It would’ve been better if we weren’t hungover. Miles looked about ready to collapse five minutes after we left, and wasn’t any better until we got there.
No one talked much on the trek, but I found myself next to Ryder several times. At one point, he said, “How’d you get stuck rooming with the douchebag? Just too nice to say no?”
I snorted a laugh. “I’m rooming with you, not Miles.”
I didn’t mean to say it, or even believed it, but the heat and humidity had softened my tongue.
Ryder looked at me before uttering a single, deep belly laugh. “I won’t tell him you said that.” He smiled like he had the night before in the booth. “But thanks, I needed that.”
“No worries,” I said, hoping no one had heard me. “But, no, we…” I stopped myself. Why let him know Tyler didn’t want to room with him? “I know you better than the other guys. And you’re not a slob.”
Ryder glanced sideways before turning his face to meet mine. “Great point.” His eyes flicked down to my lips before looking away. “But you know that means we’re on the same jet ski, right?”
I smirked. “You’ve had a motorcycle for years. I’m in the best hands out of anyone here.”
“That’s the fucking truth.” Ryder wet his lips, then glanced at me again. “Don’t forget it.”
The way he said it made that weird, nervous jolt hit my stomach again. “I could never,” I said, holding his gaze.
Ryder laughed and shoved me with his shoulder. “I’m driving first.”
The marina was right on the bay, where the water was calmer and better for watercraft, as they called it. After we took the unexpected multiple-choice test and sat through the mandatory tutorial on how to drive the skis, we were off.
Ryder was a man possessed, shooting out at full throttle. He kept the course straight out for much longer than the others. We sliced, jumped, and splashed at full speed for a solid five minutes, until I lost sight of the guys.
Once gone, Ryder eased up, slowed down, and brought us closer to the shore of a small island.
It was the only land not filled with high rises or million-dollar condos.
We’d gone much farther than we were supposed to, but it allowed me to watch the wildlife and lush Florida greenery pass by.
I loved how alive Miami was in every way.
A constant hum of life emanated from everywhere, even from the underbrush.
The other thing alive in every way was the man I held onto for dear life. Not that I hated being on a jet ski, but I hated being on a jet ski. I didn’t know they were so fast. Or how high they jumped. Or how easy it was to fall off. I almost did several times.
I clung to Ryder so hard I could feel his heartbeat thumping through his life vest and mine.
My chin was so far up his shoulder, and my chest pressed so hard against his back, I couldn’t help but smell him.
It wasn’t his usual wood-scented cologne or the not-so-cheap hotel soap.
He smelled like sun-warmed skin, salt water, and something so painfully familiar it made my head swim.
It was weird in ways I couldn’t understand.
This living, breathing man, held so tight in my arms. His abs flexed when he hit the throttle, and his back arched as we crashed back into the water.
He was alive in a way that spoke all on its own.
Something I had never noticed or experienced with anyone else.
Which led to the worst thing coming to life—my dick.
A low, slow throb from the engine’s vibration had me on edge since we set out, but it had filled out to an erection in my swim trunks. I was thankful Ryder couldn’t notice it snaking up my thigh. But my gut surged with that deep random-boner dread every guy knows from puberty.
Anyone would get excited sitting on a giant, water-bound vibrator. Especially someone like me, who had last jerked it a few days before leaving. I could imagine a woman in my position with someone like Connor getting even more excited than she bargained for.
I clenched my eyes and shook my head. It was a soothing thought, but it was bullshit.
That imaginary woman, or anyone, would have to want the person driving them in some way.
Which meant somehow, someway, I felt that about Ryder.
My stomach sank worse than any of the splash landings.
I’d been wrong, I must’ve liked Ryder’s flirting with my dick, too.
Ryder opened the throttle to jump a passing boat’s wake, sending him sliding back into me, and my shame boner. He didn’t react, not more than tensing his shoulders, which he did whenever we got air.
It was so fast he couldn’t have felt it. And seconds after we splashed back into the water, he scooted up, and I receded into my happy, flaccid form.
The rest of his turn passed by with little fear of falling off, no more jumps and splash landings, but in a daze of confusion, frustration, and simmering panic.
By the time he pulled up to the marshy bank of what looked to be a private residential golf club to switch roles, I had already banished the shameful memory.
“Okay, your turn. You know how to drive it, right?” Ryder said over the dull roar of the idling engine as he dismounted.
I splashed into the water. “Uh… Yeah. From that tutorial.”
“Yup.” He chuckled, giving me a weird look. “From the tutorial.” He hopped on and patted the space in front of his crotch. “C’mon, I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.”
I didn’t take to driving it as easily as Ryder had.
For the next ten minutes, Ryder wrapped himself around me, re-teaching me how to operate the thing.
Once I got it, I opened the throttle, but nowhere near as much as he did.
No wake-chasing or wave jumping. I just tried my best to keep the damn thing in the water.
It was a good thing too, since I wouldn’t have been able to hear him otherwise.
“I enjoyed hanging out with you last night,” he said into my ear. I let up on the throttle when he did.
I shouted back, “Yeah, me too,” but didn’t need to be so loud.
“You looked so good last night.” His voice dropped an octave.
That strange feeling in my stomach returned. But it was there whenever someone complimented me. Especially someone with an opinion I appreciated, and I very much respected Ryder’s.
“Thanks, man,” I shouted, still too loud. “You did too.”
He didn’t acknowledge my compliment. A slight growl entered his voice. “You’ve been looking good this whole trip. Your fits are outstanding, and that body is fucking killer.”
I might respect his opinion, but that didn’t make it less awkward. “Thanks.”
“Do you like how I look, too?”
“I… uh… yeah, man. I just said that.” I chuckled again, but my throat was tight.
“I know you do. I noticed you looking at me. The looks you give when you don’t think I can see. Little Finny really likes me.” Ryder’s voice was a deep growl vibrating off him.
The roar of the engine faded. All I could hear was Ryder’s voice in my ear, and my heart trying to drown him out.
“No… I mean… I don’t know what—”
“Yes, you do. You were hard as a rock a few minutes ago.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I felt it, Finn. But the question is, are you hard now?”
We were going so slow, the surrounding water slipped by all but undisturbed. His arms wrapped around me. The heat of my sunburn and the fire spreading through my core could’ve smoldered us into ash.
“I’m… I’m not…”
But I was. I was raging fucking hard. Harder than I had ever been in my fucking life.
“I think you are. I think you’re hard for me. Can I touch it and find out?”
“I… uh…” A weird, but familiar sensation flooded over me. Over a year ago, I sent him a selfie from the gym parking lot. I held up my shirt to show off my abs because I wanted him to see me. To see my body. My progress. I wanted him to think I was hot. Because I… “Yeah.”
Ryder chuckled from his throat. “Fuck yeah you do.” His hand drifted downward until he landed on the tube of my erection. Shame and unbearable arousal warred inside. His touch was the single most arousing thing that had ever happened to me.
“Holy shit, Finn.” Ryder’s voice rose two octaves. “You’re fucking huge.”
“I… uh…” I said, then laughed.
“Jesus, dude.” He laughed too, and groped me some more, getting a feel for it. His fingers played at the edge of my waistband. “Can I?”
I bit my lip and nodded.
Ryder growled in my ear and shoved his hand in my shorts. “And thick, too. Fucking hell...”
I didn’t know what to say, except “Thanks.”
Ryder returned to that deep, almost scary, but very fucking hot rumble and said, “Fucking drive,” before he started to jerk me off.
It was dangerous and stupid. I had never even gotten road head since it was such a bad idea. But Ryder’s water-handy on the Biscayne Bay was the hottest fucking shit I’d ever done.
I didn’t know where I was going because I was too busy having a meltdown and trying not to come.
Thoughts blurred past faster than the high-rise condos.
I lifted my body and maneuvered the handlebars to give him access to my crotch.
Each time something unsettling popped up, I’d let it go.
Like how a man had his hand down my pants, fisting my cock.
Or that the man was my best friend’s older brother.
Or how I moaned like the bitch he was making me.
Ryder stopped stroking, but didn’t let go. I opened the throttle without thinking.
He gave my cock another squeeze. “I need to hear you say you want me to make you come.”
Everything spun. We were going so fast, but my mind was faster. Did I want him to make me come? I badly wanted to finish, but did I want him to make it happen? Ryder? A man? Ryder? At his brother’s bachelor party in the middle of the fucking water?
Fuck yes, I did.
Before I could answer, the marina came into view, and with it, the other guys. They were standing around the dock, drinks in hand, not a life vest in sight.
“Fuck.” Ryder took his hand out of my shorts so fast he ripped some of the Velcro.
I knew he couldn’t finish me off right there, and I was about to turn the ski around and rocket back into the open bay, but Miles spotted us and waved.
Ryder said, “We’ve been gone too long. It’s past time to return the skis.”
Once on solid ground, Ryder took off, and I took the beer Tyler offered. I downed the whole thing in one go while the guys asked me where we went, why we took so long, and if we’d have to pay extra. All I could think about was the terrible case of blue balls I was about to have.