14. Milo
14
MILO
“I swear, I didn’t realize the eggs were raw,” I say, trying to hold back my laughter, arm outstretched to help Brenna onto Fishy Business .
She gives me this look like she is trying desperately not to roll her eyes, not believing me for a single second. It’s the same look she’s given me every time I’ve tried to apologize over the last couple of hours. Problem is, she’s so cute—even with her raw egg-soaked hair—that I can’t help but smile when she does it.
“It's not that I don’t believe you, but…just what did you think you were going to accomplish cracking a cooked egg?” she returns. She gives me a playful shove, both of us wobbling with the sway of the boat in the water.
And that’s a damn good question…
Truthfully, there wasn’t a whole lot of thought behind the move. I was so caught up in the moment, so focused on her laughter reverberating through me as we passed the egg back and forth, that my only thought was how to make it continue.
Her laughter had been the soundtrack of our entire afternoon. From getting kicked out of the water balloon toss when I tried to start a battle, to us tripping and landing on each other during the three-legged race, it was one of the best days of my life. Even if holding back from kissing her when she landed on me was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done. Especially after having watched her beautiful breasts bounce up and down during the sack race.
I was unaware I had such strength.
Looking at her now, the summer sun setting, dusk weaving its way in between us, Brenna is glowing. And that glow is lighting me up inside too.
Because being with Brenna is easy and natural. Kind of like breathing—something that you don’t even realize you’re doing, but is still essential to life. That if you stop, you die.
“Hmmmm?” she presses, still waiting for an answer.
“I assumed it was boiled and that it would just…crumble.”
I shrug, giving her a smirk. Brenna shakes her head, and this time I get the eye roll. I also have to dodge another one of her shoves. Easy enough, since I need to get us moving. I want us to claim our spot sooner than later so that we have the perfect view of the fireworks.
Ten minutes later, I kill the engine and lower the anchor, the ultimate spot acquired. We’re far enough away from the dock and the crowds to have our own space, but not so far that the fireworks will be too small in the sky to enjoy. Not that Silver Lake is all that big, but still. I want everything to be perfect.
A girl only gets one first second date, right?
Brenna lets out a long, heavy breath and I pause, unsure if that’s a happy noise or not. She looks happy, sitting on the bench seat that runs along the backside of the boat, her tan legs stretched out along the pleather, head resting in her hand. Or maybe she’s plotting ways to kill me in my sleep over the egg thing. Could go either way .
“Can I ask you something?” she says, not bothering to look away from her far-off focal point.
“Always.”
I make my way over to her, the short distance from the driver’s seat to the back bench feeling like ten miles rather than ten feet. Lifting her legs, I sit, laying them back across my lap. Brenna’s gaze meets mine, her soft smile brightening.
“The whole town was shocked to see you at the picnic.”
“That’s not a question…”
Brenna huffs, trying to kick me, forgetting that I’m holding on to her legs.
“You didn’t let me finish!” she whines. I lift one shoulder, trying to be nonchalant, but it’s tougher than I put on. Because the only thing I can think about is just how kissable her lips look right now. I need a distraction. Wiggling my fingers along the bottom of Brenna’s foot, I tickle her, waiting for the inevitable. Sure enough, a giggle explodes from her, and she squirms, trying to get out of my grasp. “Not fair!”
“All’s fair…”
“Seriously. When was the last time you attended the picnic?”
Damn, Brenna with the hard hitters tonight. I pull my lips into my mouth, thinking hard. Harder than one really should have to think about such a subject. Because, honestly, I have no fucking idea.
“Ummm, I think I was thirteen, maybe?”
“Thirteen?! You haven’t been to the Fourth of July picnic in twenty-five years?”
Well, when you put it like that…
“If that’s the math.” I lift one shoulder again. “I didn’t come up with the idea of Hayes Games ’til high school, but Brandt and I started skipping out a few years before that, so yeah…thirteen-ish. ”
“So then, wh?—”
She cuts herself off, snapping her mouth shut quickly. I know exactly what question she was about to ask. But I’m not going to answer it. Not unless she actually asks it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
Brenna shakes her head, and even in dim light, I can see her cheeks start to tinge pink. It makes my dick stiffen, and I shift, trying to make sure she can’t feel that. I don’t want to be that guy. Can’t be that guy.
“Why now?”
I shift again, turning to face her. I’m still holding on to her legs, so I give her a gentle squeeze, hoping that she knows that I mean what I’m about to say.
“You.”
It’s the honest answer, but I can tell it still catches her off guard. She has no idea the effect she has on me. Which is probably a good thing. Nonetheless, her urge to push back on my answer is hovering just under the surface. I can see it trying to fight its way out, Brenna not bothering to hide it.
“You didn’t have to break your family tradition to take me on a pity date.”
Pity date? Is that what she thinks this is? Oh, Brenna…
I’m doing a shitty job if that’s what she’s thinking…
“I’ve never been on a pity date in my life. Don’t really do those.”
“That’s because no one would pity you.”
“Oh, shots fired!” I grab at my chest, right above my heart, pretending to be wounded.
“I mean it.”
“So do I. I’ve never been on a pity date. Whether I was the one being pitied or doing the pitying. Today was about spending the afternoon with a friend. And want to know a secret?”
“Always.”
“I had one of the best afternoons ever. Seriously. I had no idea it could be so much fun passing an egg back and forth between spoons that we were holding on to with our teeth.”
Brenna laughs, grabbing a piece of her stringy, egged-up hair. “We were oddly good at that.”
“If you think I was good at that, you should see what else I can do with my mouth.”
The smart-ass comment is out and floating in the air faster than I can rethink it. Although, I’m not sure if I do want to rethink it.
Brenna’s eyes go wide, her mouth opening slightly. My eyes land on those pretty pink lips, hovering there, waiting on a response. One that seems frozen in her. Like she wants to take my comment and raise me but is afraid to.
Which is perfectly fine. Because I know what I want. And I’m not afraid.
I’m going to lean in.
Lifting her legs, I stand up, holding my hand out. She slides hers into mine, giving me a wary look.
“I know just the thing to get you all cleaned up.”
“Y-y-you do?”
I can see her brain working overtime, the light flush of her cheeks deepening with each passing second. I like having this effect on her, but more than that, I like seeing this side of her. Maybe my Brenna is more of a dirty girl than I thought.
My Brenna…
“Swimming, Bren…” I say, winking at her, my tone letting her know that I can tell her mind went straight to the gutter. To be fair, mine was right there waiting for company.
“We didn’t bring our suits…”
I give her another smirk, not taking my eyes off her as I walk to the side and open the hatch so we can access the water. I can see her mind still trying to process it, so I try and help her along, reaching over my shoulder, grabbing the collar of my tee and yanking it over my head.
We always have our birthday suits…
“We could go skinny-dipping.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she quips, quirking her hip to one side, finding her own sass.
Her eyes roam over my full sleeve, starting at my wrist, tracing the design all the way to my pec. The heat from her gaze feels good, and I can’t help but wonder if she likes what she sees. And if she’ll like it more the more she sees.
“Nope. Just you.”
I return the favor of inspection, my eyes roaming up and down her body, committing how perfect she looks to my memory. Those short little shorts have been teasing me all day. Almost as much as the curve of her shoulder and that lacy bra strap that keeps poking out from underneath her tank top. More than once, I’ve had to stop my inner teenage boy from snapping it, just to get a rise out of her.
My pulse rushes at the thought, wanting her to get all riled up on my behalf. Only so I can kiss it right off her.
“Oh, really…”
There’s no missing the sarcasm as she saunters toward me, a newfound confidence in her step. Oh, my Brenna can hold her own.
Making an X over the tribal design on my chest, I step into her, closing the gap. “Cross my heart.”
“Suuuuuure…”
Pushing out her chest, as if she’s challenging me, her beautiful breasts steal my attention as Brenna narrows her gaze and faces me fully. We're right on the edge, the open hatch to the lake a few inches to her left, the dark water bobbing underneath us in a steady pace. One step and she’s overboard.
“What?” I challenge in return. “You afraid of me seeing you naked? ’Cause I hate to break it to you, baby, but that ship has sailed.”
“You’ve seen me more than naked.”
That I have. And I still fantasize about it. Not that we need to bring that up.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
I blink, waiting for another jab. A quick verbal comeback that will keep me on my toes. Because sparring with Brenna like this is fueling a fire in me that I didn’t know I had.
But blinking is a mistake.
Because it gives Brenna the chance to grab ahold of me and push.
I shift, her effort catching me off guard. She might be smaller than I am, but she’s fast. And it’s more than enough to make me lose my balance.
However, she’s not quite fast enough.
Grabbing onto her arms, I hold tight as we both tumble through the open hatch. It’s a moment that allows physics to work its magic, taking over completely. One that you couldn't duplicate if you ran the experiment a hundred times over. But that doesn’t matter when we hit the cool water.
Still fully clothed.
Fuuuuck…
I let go of Brenna, pulling myself to the surface. I look for her the second I break through, reaching for her and hauling her into me when I find her. I can’t tell if the fall cooled my ardor or upped the ante, my heart jackhammering as she wraps herself around me.
We get lost in a fit of giggles, squirming and roughhousing in the water, but never fully letting go of each other. The feel of her in my arms is incredible. Like she’s meant to be there.
“At least my hair is clean,” Brenna managed through her laughter.
“Awww, but now you no longer look egg-cellent.”
Brenna groans, trying to dunk me. I wriggle just enough to keep myself from going under, holding on to her tighter.
“You’ve been holding on to that one all day, haven’t you?”
“Sure have. I’ve been very egg-cited, but had to find the right moment. Preferably while we’re alone—can’t have anyone poaching my best yolks.”
Brenna groans again, but this time wiggles her core against me. There’s no hiding my erection, and for a split second I worry that it’s going to cause this moment to end. Thankfully, she tightens her legs around my waist instead. So I go all in.
“Have I thanked you for not egg-noring me after that race this afternoon?”
That one gets me another giggle. Score.
“How many of these do you have?” she asks.
“More than one probably should. Not as many as I have about wood though.”
“Wood? You have wood puns?”
“Oh yeah. I collect them like some people do shot glasses. Bust them out at just the right moment to Hux. Oh man, he hates them. Dude’s like an egg white—can't take a yolk.”
“You’ve already made the yolk pun,” she points out.
“It’s good enough it’s worth using twice.”
As if on cue, the skies dim even more. The mood shifts as the fading light takes over, answering my question from before. My ardor hasn’t cooled one bit.
“Brenna,” I whisper, unable to look away from her gorgeous lips. I tighten my grip, making sure there is absolutely no space between us .
“Milo.”
I don’t wait. I don’t hesitate. I just act.
Sliding a hand up her back, I stop at the nape of her neck. Brenna shivers, lips parted in anticipation, waiting for my next move. I don’t keep her waiting long, grabbing hold and lowering her mouth to mine.
Soft, warm skin brushes against my lips, the sweet taste of her taking over, turning my brain to mush. I can think of nothing else, her gentle touch hovering on too much, teeter-tottering on not enough. So I deepen it.
Brenna’s hips buck, her core making contact with my hard-on all over again. It’s all I can do to hold back a groan. Instead, I nibble at her lip, letting her know that I like this. I more than like this. It gets me the reaction that I’m looking for, Brenna kissing me harder, fingers digging into my skin.
I feel like I could kiss her for forever. That if I spent the rest of my life tangled up like this with her, that everything would be all right. That I wouldn’t ever want for anything else. Okay, that’s a lie. All the blood rushing to my dick right now, the memory of her on the bed, that vibrator between her legs, and those soft moans taking over—so maybe I might want a little more.
A single, loud boom breaks through our haze, the two of us separating like a pair of teenagers who were just caught making out under the bleachers. There’s no one around us—no one to see that we’d given up control for a moment, losing ourselves in one another. Just the lone firework letting us know it’s an hour to show time.
“I guess we should…” she trails off, biting into her bottom lip.
The subconscious habit is so fucking cute and makes me want to kiss her all over again. Hell, after that, I’m not sure exactly how I’m going to stop myself from spending the rest of the night with my lips exploring hers .
But, she’s right. We should get back to the boat and dry off. The plan for the night was to watch fireworks, not create them.
I nod, not letting go of her as I sidestroke back over to Fishy Business . Yanking myself up into the boat, I grab the small ladder and attach it for her to use. I keep one arm outstretched to help, desperate to feel her skin on mine again. The loss I felt immediately after letting go was like losing a limb.
Brenna looks down at herself, soaked to the very core, lake water dripping off her and creating a puddle where she stands. Raising her head, her eyes meet mine, and I can’t tell if she wants to laugh or cry.
“I’m all wet.”
“Then I’m doing something right,” I quip, hoping that my response isn’t overstepping.
“I meant with water.”
“Then best I can do is a towel.”
I give her a wink, padding over to the cabin and grabbing a couple of towels from the cabinet that Miss Belle uses as a linen closet. I quickly run one over my hair and across my chest before I return to her.
“First, we should get you out of these wet clothes.”
I lick my lips, still fighting the overwhelming desire to kiss her. To make her the other kind of wet.
Her soaked clothes cling to her body like a second skin, her nipples already taut and poking through the thin fabric of her bra and tank. The sight of them makes my mouth water, and I know that behaving myself might end up being the biggest challenge of my life.
Brenna takes the damp towel I used from my hand, patting her face and hair. It’s impossible to take my eyes off her, her beauty striking me mute.
Dropping the towel to the floor, she steps into me, the heat between us wafting up my front. I flex my hands, trying to behave. Not an easy task when a gorgeous woman stands in front of you, dripping wet, with her nipples standing at attention.
“Will you help?”
I nod. I do not need to be asked twice.
Reaching for the hem of her shirt, I slowly peel it from her body. The heavy, sodden fabric puts up little resistance, leaving behind droplets that slide down her glorious skin. A shiver runs through her as I pull the top over her head and let it fall to meet the towel, letting me know that I’m having a similar effect on her as she is me.
Moonlight dances across her skin, the light-colored lacy bra doing nothing to conceal her tits. Fuck me, is she gorgeous.
“Want me to keep going?”
Brenna nods, a coy smile tugging at her lips.
I pause, trying to decide which way to go next. It’s not an easy choice. Do I reveal those perfect tits? Or do I go for the shorts to see if her panties match the bra? That is, if she’s even wearing panties. That thought jolts me, making my dick even harder. Fuck, this is tough. Especially now that the idea has struck me that she might be bare-assed underneath those cutoffs.
Only, I know if that’s the case, I won’t be able to stop myself. I’ll be diving in headfirst without a second thought, and I’m still not fully sure that’s where this is headed. The bra is safer.
The lace garment is a singular piece, so there isn’t a clasp for me to fight with. I silently thank the universe for that—and for the easy removal of it. The flimsy piece of lace flutters to the ground, or at least I assume it does. It's out of sight and out of mind now that the most perfect pair of breasts stares back at me. And just like that day I walked in on her, they are screaming at me to come play.
“Like what you see?” Brenna asks.
Her insecurity is barely masked by her playful tone. I need to let her know that she’s beautiful. More than that. She’s perfect.
“You have no idea. I’ve been dreaming of these since that day in your room.”
“Since I accidentally shoved them in your face?” She giggles nervously.
“If you only knew what I wanted to do to them in that moment. What I’ve been fantasizing about doing to them ever since.”
“Show me.”