18. Casey
eighteen
Casey
"R eady for patrol, Counselor Kim?" Matt's voice came from behind me, making me jump.
I turned to find him standing behind me in his swim trunks and a fitted, sleeveless rash-guard that clung to every defined muscle of his chest. His sun-streaked hair was pulled back in a man bun, a few loose strands framing his face. Every single part of this man screamed sex, and it made me wonder how I hadn’t noticed that when we’d first met.
It was early enough that I could still feel the chill of the morning, and I folded my arms over my chest, shivering. Matt had told me to arrive early so he could show me the ropes, and the campers hadn't even come down from breakfast yet. I glanced at the clear, smooth water of Eagle Lake, feeling more than a little nervous.
"I was thinking..." I started, desperately searching for an excuse. "Maybe I should stay on shore? You know, keep an eye on things from here while you patrol the water?"
Matt's eyebrows shot up, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "Afraid of a little water, city boy?"
I scoffed, though it came out more like a nervous hiccup. "I'm not afraid. I’m just the type to enjoy nature from a distance." I glanced around. “Maybe I could sit in that cabin over there and, you know, sound the alarm if anything goes wrong.”
“That’s the bathroom,” Matt said, smirking at me. “And in addition to the obvious downsides to hanging out in a bathroom all day, it doesn’t have an alarm.”
"I could use a whistle," I muttered, kicking at the sand with my sandaled foot.
Matt stepped closer, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that had been haunting my dreams. "You seemed plenty eager to get me alone last night."
I sighed. "Fine. But I grew up in Portland. The closest I got to water sports was walking past the Willamette River on my way to get bubble tea. Sending me on a safety patrol is ludicrous."
Matt laughed, but it wasn't cruel. His eyes softened, and he placed a warm hand on my shoulder. "Well, you’ve lucked out. I'm a great teacher. Come on."
As he turned away, my eyes helplessly dropped to the way his swim trunks hugged his ass, and fuck if that sight didn’t make me forget all of my worries and go chasing after him. Matt stopped at a rack of kayaks and pulled out a long, sleek boat that was bigger than the single-person ones the kids used. His muscles flexed, and my eyes were glued to his ass as he arranged it on the sand at the edge of the water, then gathered paddles and life vests, tossing me one.
"If you're a strong swimmer, you can just put the vest in the boat. Otherwise, zip it up," Matt said, grinning. "Kids need to wear them, though, so if you see any campers without a vest, blow that whistle."
"What whistle?" I asked, feeling a little dazed.
"You had a plan involving a whistle? And alerting people of danger?"
I blushed, laughing awkwardly. "Oh yeah. I totally don't have a whistle."
He smirked at me, then handed me a long two-bladed paddle. "This is a tandem. Perfect for nervous beginners," Matt said with a wink. "I'll take the front, so I can steer, you take the back and be my helper. That way, you can learn the basics without worrying about anything going wrong. I want to make sure you enjoy the experience." The way his voice dipped on "enjoy" made my stomach flip.
"Fine," I huffed. "I'll go, but only because your ass in that swimsuit is short-circuiting my brain."
Matt burst out laughing, and turned, dragging the kayak out into the water a little, so the nose was in the water and the tail still sat on the sand. "Okay, climb in and sit in the back seat."
I eyed the wobbly craft with suspicion. "It seems... unstable."
"It is smooth on water, but on land, it’s a bit tippy. That's why I'm helping you," Matt said patiently. He held the kayak steady and extended his other hand to me. "Trust me?"
His question held more weight than he probably intended. Did I trust him? With water safety, sure. With my body? Maybe. With my heart? That was a whole other question I wasn't ready to answer.
I took his hand, fighting off a pleased sigh as the solid warmth of his fingers enveloped mine with reassuring strength. He guided me as I awkwardly lowered myself into the back seat of the kayak.
"Keep your center of gravity low," he instructed as the boat rocked beneath me. "And relax your hips—the kayak moves with the water, not against it."
I nodded, concentrating on not wiping out on the beach before we’d even started. Once I was settled, Matt pushed the kayak further into the water and gracefully slid into the front seat with practiced ease. The boat barely wobbled under his confident movements.
"Show off," I muttered.
He glanced back at me with a grin. "Just wait until you see what else I can do."
My mouth went dry as he handed me a paddle. His fingers brushed against mine, and I felt a jolt of something visceral that shot straight to my core.
"We'll paddle around the perimeter," Matt explained, demonstrating the proper technique. "Keep an eye out for any campers going beyond the boundaries or getting into trouble."
"So we're basically the lake police?"
"Something like that," he chuckled. "Though I prefer 'aquatic safety facilitators.'"
I barked out a surprised laugh, then yelped as Matt dipped his paddle into the water and we shot forward, guided by his fluid strokes. I watched, mesmerized by the way his shoulders flexed beneath his rash-guard, the fabric stretching taut across his broad back with each movement. The rhythm of his paddling was hypnotic—the way each side of the paddle dipped into the water in quick, sure movements. Water droplets flew from his paddle, catching the sunlight like tiny crystals before disappearing back into the lake.
I became acutely aware of the advantages of my position. From here, I could admire every ripple of muscle, every subtle shift of his body as he propelled us forward. And best of all, he couldn't see if I was actually helping or just pretending to paddle while enjoying the view.
I mimicked his movements halfheartedly, more focused on the way his biceps bulged with each stroke than on proper technique. The sun had bronzed his skin to a rich golden hue, making the few freckles across his shoulders stand out like constellations I wanted to trace with my fingertips. Or my tongue. I shook that thought off as the kids started to arrive, racing down.
We circled around and glided past a group of giggling campers loading into smaller kayaks with the help of counselors, and Matt offered friendly encouragement peppered with reminders about staying within the area designated by orange buoys and out of the swimming area, which had a blue and white rope around it. He skillfully spun us around and paddled back out to the semicircular line of buoys bobbing in the water. Maybe he'd take me out of the designated area, somewhere private, so he could show me that sexy body without the swimsuit on. I was so lost in daydreaming that I didn't notice Matt had stopped paddling until he twisted around in his seat to face me.
"You know," he said, his voice dripping with amused accusation, "this would go a lot faster if you actually helped paddle."
Caught red-handed, I felt heat rush to my face. "I am paddling."
"Casey." The way he said my name—part exasperation, part affection—made my stomach flutter. "You've dipped that paddle in the water maybe three times since we started."
"I'm pacing myself," I argued. "Conserving energy for... later activities."
His eyes darkened at the implication, but he maintained his authoritative camp director persona. "Here, let me show you the proper technique." He twisted further in his seat, reaching back to place his hands over mine on the paddle.
The boat wobbled precariously with his movement, making me grip the sides in panic. "Careful! You're going to tip us! I do not want to swim in a lake with fish in it!"
"Relax," he soothed, his chest now almost against mine as he demonstrated the correct paddle grip. "This boat is very stable and difficult to tip, and I won't let you fall in."
His proximity was overwhelming—the scent of his skin mingling with sunscreen and lake water, the warmth radiating from his body, the gentle pressure of his calloused hands over mine. I swallowed hard, trying to focus on his instruction rather than how easy it would be to close the distance between us.
"You need to rotate from your core," Matt explained, turning back around and demonstrating the motion, his gorgeous body doing the movements in the most perfect, delicious way. "It's not just about the arms—your whole torso should be engaged."
"My whole torso is engaged right now," I muttered, adjusting the bulge in my swim trunks. “And possibly parts of my lower body.”
“Pay attention, Casey. This is important safety information. We should be prepared for any emergency."
"Yes, sir," I replied, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice despite how the word 'sir' sent a thrill through me.
Matt looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed, as if recognizing the effect his authority had on me. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Good boy. Now show me what you've learned. Make the boat move without my help."
He returned to his position, leaving me flushed and flustered. I gripped the paddle properly and began mimicking the technique he'd shown me, determined to prove I could handle myself.
"That's better," he called over his shoulder, his own paddle slicing smoothly through the lake. "Keep that up and I might just reward you later. Wasn’t there something you wanted me to do with my tongue?"
I squirmed in my seat, trying to ignore my horny thoughts as I paddled with renewed enthusiasm, my eyes fixed on the powerful movements of his shoulders as we continued our patrol around Eagle Lake, matching his rhythm, and this time, dipping my paddle into the water at appropriate intervals. Still, with Matt's broad back flexing in front of me, concentration remained a challenge, and I was soon well and truly distracted.
Matt thought he could boss me around and get away with it. Little did he know…
I adjusted my grip on the paddle and dipped it clumsily into the water as I angled it just right, sending a spray of cold lake water arcing through the air and landing squarely on Matt's exposed neck.
"What the—" He whipped around, water dripping down his collar, beading and glistening on his muscled arms. Well, that just made me hornier. "Did you just splash me?"
I adopted my most innocent expression. "Sorry. My paddle slipped."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Your paddle... slipped."
"I'm new at this, remember?" I batted my eyelashes.
Matt turned back around, muttering something that sounded like "brat" under his breath. I bit back a smile and continued paddling properly for a minute—just long enough for him to lower his guard.
Then I did it again, this time sending a more substantial splash that soaked the entire back of his rash-guard, making it fuse to the rippling muscles of his back like a second skin. That was a win for sure.
"Casey!" Matt twisted around again. "Are you five years old?"
"What?" I feigned confusion. "I told you I'm not good at this."
"You're good enough at hitting me with water," he grumbled, but I caught the glint of amusement in his eyes. "Keep it up and see what happens."
"Is that a threat, Director Blackstone?"
"Consider it a warning, Counselor Kim."
We continued paddling, the kayak finding a steady rhythm as we glided a little ways past the perimeter. I managed to maintain proper form for a while, genuinely helping move us forward, though my eyes remained fixed on the hypnotic flex and release of Matt's shoulders.
Each stroke revealed the detailed landscape of his back—the subtle ridge of his spine, the wing-like protrusion of his shoulder blades, the intricate play of muscles beneath the drenched fabric. Water droplets clung to the loose strands of his hair, catching the light like tiny prisms. I imagined running my fingers through those strands, tugging them free from the hairband, and watching his long hair tumble down his back, feeling its softness against my skin.
I was so entranced by this fantasy that I almost missed Matt's hand dipping into the water beside the kayak.
"Don't you dare—" I started, but too late.
Matt's hand emerged in a swift, powerful arc, sending a deluge of lake water straight into my face. I spluttered in shock, blinking rapidly as cold droplets ran down my face and neck, soaking the collar of my t-shirt.
"Oops," Matt said, not bothering to hide his smirk as he glanced back at me. "My hand slipped."
"You will pay for that!" I wiped water from my eyes, unable to suppress a laugh despite myself. "That's cold!"
"Should've thought of that before starting a water fight with someone who grew up on this lake."
"I didn't start a water fight," I protested, already plotting my revenge. "I was simply demonstrating my inexperience with water sports."
"Oh, is that what you were doing?" His voice dropped to that infuriatingly sexy tone. "And here I thought you were just trying to get my attention."
"Please," I scoffed, though he wasn't entirely wrong. "Your ego is as massive as your—" I caught myself just in time, aware that we were still within earshot of campers.
"My what, Casey?" His eyes gleamed with challenge. "Say it."
I leaned forward, keeping my voice low enough that only he could hear. "Your dick, Matt. Which, if you recall, stretched me open perfectly. I might like to spend a little more time finding out how it tastes, though."
His paddle faltered mid-stroke, and I savored the small victory of making the ever-composed camp director lose his rhythm. His knuckles whitened around the shaft of the paddle, and I watched with satisfaction as he took a deep breath before resuming his steady pace.
"Keep talking like that," he murmured without turning around, "and I might have to find us a very private spot to continue this conversation."
The promise sent a thrill through me, and I dipped my paddle into the water with renewed energy. We fell into a companionable silence, the only sounds the gentle splash of our paddles and distant laughter from the campers as we made rounds along the boundary, helping kids who'd dropped their paddles and reminding the older kids not to wander off.