19. Casey
nineteen
Casey
I lost track of time as we made our circuit of the lake, my arms beginning to ache pleasantly from the unfamiliar exertion. The sun warmed my skin, and I found myself relaxing into the experience despite my initial reluctance. There was something undeniably peaceful about gliding across the water, surrounded by towering pines and mountains that seemed to touch the sky.
"Look," Matt said suddenly, breaking me from my reverie. He pointed toward the far side of the lake. "Those two—they're past the boundary buoys."
I squinted in the direction he indicated and spotted two yellow kayaks drifting beyond the clearly marked safe zone. Even from this distance, I could make out the shapes of two teenage campers, apparently oblivious to their transgression.
"Those little shits," I muttered. "Aren't those the same ones who started the food fight last night?"
"Ben and Carlos," Matt confirmed with a sigh. "They've been testing boundaries all week."
Without further discussion, Matt adjusted our course, paddling with increased urgency toward the wayward campers. I matched his rhythm without thinking, our movements synchronizing as if we'd been paddling together for years instead of minutes.
"They're heading toward the rocks," Matt said, his voice tight with concern. "That’s where the lake's outlet to Eagle Creek is. The current gets tricky over there. We’d better catch them before they get swept off down the creek.”
He dug in with his paddle, and this time, I matched his effort and the distance between us and the boys rapidly closed. Matt's shoulders bunched with tension as he paddled harder, and I followed suit.
"Hey!" Matt called when we were within earshot. "Carlos! Ben! Stop paddling and wait for us!"
The boys' heads turned in unison, their expressions shifting from surprise to guilt when they recognized Matt. They stopped paddling immediately, though the current continued to pull them gently toward the rocks.
He maneuvered our kayak alongside the first boy's craft with impressive precision. "Ben, you're well past the safety boundary. Do you see those buoys?" He pointed back toward the marked zone. "Those aren't suggestions. You're only allowed past them when accompanied by an adult."
"Sorry, Matt," the boy mumbled, his face flushed with embarrassment. "We were just exploring."
"Exploring is fantastic, but you need to have proper supervision," Matt replied firmly. "This is a dangerous part of the lake."
I positioned my paddle to help stabilize our kayak as Matt continued his lecture. The second boy looked like he wanted to sink into the lake and disappear.
"Both of you, paddle back to the beach—slowly and directly. No detours," Matt instructed. "Give your boats to Sutton and tell him you’re grounded to the swim beach."
"Yes, sir," they answered in unison, turning their kayaks back toward the safe zone with chastened expressions.
As they began paddling away, Matt relaxed, turning to catch my eye. "Nice teamwork," he said quietly. "All it takes is a little motivation, and you paddle like you've been doing it for years."
"I'm full of surprises," I replied, warmed by his praise.
"I'm counting on it." His smile was subtle but genuine, creating tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes that made my heart stutter.
We followed the boys back toward the designated swimming area, maintaining a watchful distance. Once they were safely within bounds, Matt directed them to join the larger group of campers, where another counselor would keep an eye on them.
As the boys paddled away, Matt and I slowed our pace, the urgency of the moment fading. The kayak drifted gently, both of us resting our paddles across our laps. The sudden quiet felt intimate, accentuated by the soft lapping of water against the sides of our boat.
He reached back and clasped my hand where it rested on the paddle. His fingers were warm and slightly calloused, enveloping mine with gentle strength. He gave my hand a squeeze—not sexual, not challenging, but something deeper that made my breath catch.
“I was being honest last night when I said I miss you. I do. Bratty behavior and all,” he said quietly.
“You liked it when I splashed you! I knew it!”
He laughed, shaking his head. “It’s hot as hell out, so a little water is fine. And I can’t say I minded the way you were staring at my body like you wanted to lick me from head to toe.”
I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing, squeezing his hand, letting the moment stretch between us like the sunlight stretching across the water's surface. Matt seemed content with the silence too, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of my hand before he reluctantly let go and turned forward again.
He dipped his paddle into the water, resuming our journey with slow, measured strokes. The muscles in his back flexed rhythmically, but now their movement seemed less like a distraction and more like a continuation of our wordless conversation—each stroke a reminder of the surprising connection we'd just shared.
"Ben and Carlos are back on the beach. And I know a place," Matt said after a few minutes, his voice carrying back to me over his shoulder. "A quiet spot where we can take a quick break." The smirk he threw back at me left little doubt about what kind of "break" he had in mind.
I swallowed hard, memories of our previous encounters flooding my mind. "Lead the way, Director."
He adjusted our course, guiding us toward a small, secluded bay hidden from the main beach by a jutting peninsula of land. Tall pines crowded the shoreline, creating natural privacy from prying eyes. A narrow strip of sandy beach gleamed invitingly in the afternoon sun.
Matt paddled us right up to the shore, the bottom of the kayak scraping gently on the sandy lake bed. He climbed out first, his movements fluid and confident as he stepped into knee-deep water. Just as I worried he might be expecting me to step out, too, he turned, and, muscles flexing, hauled the boat further onto the sandy beach with me still inside it. Turning back to me, he extended his hand.
"Careful," he warned. "It’s wobbly when you step out."
I took his offered hand, wobbling a little as I stood up in the unsteady kayak. My legs felt strangely weak after sitting for so long, and as I attempted to step out, my foot caught on the edge of the boat.
Time seemed to slow as I lost my balance, pitching forward with a startled yelp. Matt's arms shot out to catch me, but my momentum carried us both backward. We hit the water with a spectacular splash, Matt taking the brunt of the fall as I landed squarely against his chest.
Cool water shocked my system, soaking us both to the skin. For a moment, I froze in mortification, pressed against Matt's body in the shallow water. Then I heard it—Matt's laughter, deep and genuine, vibrating through his chest where I was plastered against him.
I pulled back slightly to look at his face. Water dripped from his hair, which had come loose from its bun during our fall. His eyes sparkled with mirth, and his smile—fuck, his smile made my stomach flip in ways that had nothing to do with our tumble.
"Graceful dismount," he teased, his hands still firmly on my waist, holding me close even as we sat in lake water up to our waists. "Ten out of ten."
I didn't think—I just acted. With water dripping down both our faces and Matt's laughter surrounding us, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his, silencing his amusement with a kiss that started as an impulse and instantly blazed into something more. His mouth, warm against mine despite the cold lake water, froze for just a heartbeat before responding with an intensity that made my head spin, teeth and tongue devouring me as his hands slid up my back and around my head, holding me in place so he could ravage me.
The world narrowed to the points where our bodies connected—lips pressed together, my hands clutching his shoulders, his in my hair. His chest rested against mine, and between my legs, our cocks started to harden, pulsing and throbbing as I rolled my hips, relishing the delicious contact. Time stretched and compressed simultaneously, making seconds feel like hours and minutes like seconds.
Matt groaned, the vibration traveling through his chest and into mine where our skin touched. His hands moved from my waist to my back, pulling me tighter against him, eliminating what little space remained between us. Even through our wet clothes, I could feel every inch of his big cock.
We were still half-sitting, half-lying in the shallow water, waves lapping around us with gentle persistence. The contrast of cold water and hot skin created a sensory overload that heightened every touch, every subtle shift of our bodies against each other.
When we broke apart for air, I was stunned by the raw hunger in Matt's eyes. His pupils were dilated, nearly swallowing the blue, and his breathing came in ragged pants that matched my own. Water droplets clung to his eyelashes and traced paths down his cheeks like tears, but the fierce desire in his expression was anything but sad.
"Casey," he breathed, my name sounding like both a prayer and a curse on his lips.
Before I could respond, Matt surged forward, capturing my mouth again in a kiss that was wilder, less controlled than before. His hands moved restlessly over my back, my sides, dipping down inside my swim trunks to grip my ass and haul me closer, guiding me in a gentle rocking motion that felt delicious enough to make me come.
Matt shifted, aligning our hips perfectly, and rolled against me in a slow, deliberate movement that drew gasps from us both. Even through layers of wet fabric, the friction was exquisite, sending sparks of pleasure racing up my spine.
"Matt," I moaned, unable to form more coherent words as he continued to rock against me, setting a rhythm that had my toes curling as I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on tight.
His mouth returned to mine, swallowing my sounds of pleasure as his hands slid under my shirt, pushing it up to expose my chest to the warm air. The contrast of sun-heated skin and water-cooled fabric created yet another layer of sensation that had me writhing beneath him.
Matt's lips left mine to trail down my neck, my chest, stopping to tease one nipple with his tongue while his fingers found the other. The dual assault sent jolts of pleasure straight to my groin, and I bucked up against him, seeking more.
"Patience," he murmured against my skin, though I could feel him trembling with the effort of holding back.
"Fuck patience," I growled, sliding my hands down to grab his ass, pulling him harder against me. "I've been patient for days."
He laughed, the sound dark and promising. "Since when are you patient about anything?"
"Since you've been too busy directing camp activities to fuck me properly," I shot back, enjoying the way his eyes darkened at my crude language.
Matt's hands moved to the waistband of my swim trunks, fingers teasing along the edge. "Maybe I should remedy that right now."
I would have had a snarky comeback, but at that moment, Matt ground down against me with perfect pressure, creating a friction so intense that all words fled my mind. I could only moan, my head falling back against the sand as pleasure coursed through me.
Matt took advantage of my exposed throat, kissing and nipping his way from my collarbone to my jaw. His hips continued their maddening rhythm, each roll bringing me closer to the edge embarrassingly fast.
"Matt," I gasped, clutching at his shoulders. "I'm going to—"
Right when I thought I’d found the perfect pressure, the loud bleat echoed across the water, followed by a shout that sounded like it was coming out of a bullhorn. "All staff report to the beach!"
Matt froze above me, his entire body going rigid. For a moment, I thought—hoped—he might ignore it, but then another shout came, closer this time.
"We have an emergency. All staff report to the beach!"
With a groan of frustration, Matt dropped his forehead to rest against mine. "Fuck," he muttered, his breath hot against my lips. "Fucking timing."
“Tonight?” I asked, whining a little as I pressed close one last time.
“Fuck dinner. We’re going straight to my house, straight to my bed.”
“I’m in.” I reached out and rubbed a little mud off of his shoulder. “Well, maybe a shower first.”
“Only if it’s my shower,” he said. “Together. Preferably with my fingers shoved up your ass, getting you good and ready.”
I laughed, standing on wobbly legs. “You’re supposed to be helping me get rid of the hard-on, not making it worse.”
He reached out and cupped me between the legs. “But you’re so pretty when you’re hard, baby.”