Sorority Heat (Sorority Summer #2)

Chapter 1 More Honest, Not More Careful

More Honest, Not More Careful

I woke with Kit’s body tucked against mine and July already trying to get through the blinds.

Lake light striped the cabin in thin gold bars.

One stripe cut across the wrecked sheets.

Another touched the curve of Kit’s bare shoulder where she’d shoved the blanket down sometime before dawn.

Her back was pressed to my chest, warm and soft, and her ass was snug against my cock in a way that made my body wake up before the rest of me had even joined the day.

The room smelled like sunscreen, lake air, warm skin, and sex.

My jeans were on the floor near the bathroom.

Kit’s sundress hung off the chair by one strap.

Her panties were near the foot of the bed, pale blue and abandoned like a dare.

The bathroom door stood half open, showing the towel she’d used after midnight, still damp over the sink.

Outside, Brewster Bay was already moving. A boat motor coughed to life somewhere past the dock. Somebody laughed near the water. From farther up the path, I could hear a delivery truck backing in with that high, annoying beep that meant Bella had ordered something else for the Fourth.

Wednesday, July first.

The Rosewater bash was in three days. Brewster Bay had survived June by the skin of its teeth, but surviving wasn’t enough anymore. The Rose investment was real. The bookings were coming. The lake was watching.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Kit made a sleepy sound and pushed back against me.

Every responsible thought in my head took a knee.

“Morning, baby,” she murmured.

“Morning, Trouble.”

Her lips curved against the pillow. “You’re already thinking too loud.”

“I’m not thinking.”

“Liar.” She shifted again, rolling her hips back with lazy precision, trapping my cock between her ass and the heat of her body. “Your body gets all tense when you’re trying to run the resort from bed.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

My phone buzzed again. The screen lit up just enough for me to see fragments of messages: deck lights, towel order, bar delivery, Poppy with three exclamation points.

I reached for it without thinking.

Kit caught my wrist.

Her eyes opened, blue and sleepy and much too sharp for that hour of the morning. “Don’t.”

“It might be Bella.”

“It’s always Bella.” Kit turned in my arms, facing me now, her tits pressing warm against my chest. Her hair was a soft blonde mess across the pillow, and she looked at me like she could see every bad habit I’d ever tried to dress up as responsibility.

“It’s the first morning of July, Nash. You’re not allowed to be responsible before you kiss me. ”

“That a rule?”

“It is now.”

She leaned in and kissed the corner of my mouth. It should have been sweet. It was sweet, for half a second. Then her hand slid down my stomach, her fingers brushing the line of hair below my navel, and sweet burned off fast.

“You’re trying to make the whole lake wait,” I said.

“The lake can wait.” Her hand closed around my cock, warm and sure, and she stroked me once from root to tip, thumb dragging over the wet bead already leaking there. “Bella can wait. The Fourth of July can sit on the dock and behave itself until I’m done with you.”

“Kit.” Her name came out rougher than I meant it to.

“Mmhmm.” She smiled against my mouth and stroked me again, slower. “That’s me. Still your Trouble. Still in your bed. Still the first thing you should be thinking about.”

I laughed, and she smiled like she’d won something.

She had.

Kit climbed over me, straddling my hips with the sheet tangled around one ankle and sunlight catching in her hair. She was naked, flushed from sleep, marked in tiny places by last night, and so comfortable in my bed that it made something low and primitive in me settle and surge at the same time.

She wasn’t visiting. She wasn’t sneaking. She was here because she wanted to be here.

Her pussy slid over my cock, slick and hot, coating me without letting me inside. She rocked once, dragging my shaft through her folds, and my hands locked on her hips hard enough to make her grin.

“Fuck,” I said.

“That’s the idea.” She bent and kissed me, slow and dirty, tongue sliding against mine while she kept grinding. “But not until you stop looking like you’re calculating towel inventory.”

“I’m not calculating anything.”

“Good.” She reached between us, wrapped her hand around my cock again, and guided the head through the wet heat between her thighs. “Then pay attention.”

I could feel how soaked she was. Could feel the soft, swollen glide of her clit brushing me every time she rocked. My whole body wanted to shove up, bury myself in her, and forget the lake existed.

She didn’t let me.

She held me against her, just outside, her smile going wicked when my hips jerked.

“You’re a menace.”

“Your menace.” She rocked against me again, coating me with her wetness, and her eyes flicked to the phone when it buzzed again. “And if you answer that, I’m throwing it in the lake.”

“That feels expensive.”

“So is therapy, and you’re about to need it if you choose a towel order over my pussy.”

I grabbed her hips and rolled us, putting her on her back before she could laugh her way out of it. The sound came anyway, bright and breathless, and her legs wrapped around my waist like she’d been waiting for me to stop pretending I had any choice.

My cock dragged against her again as I settled over her, slick from how wet she’d made both of us, and the little catch in her breath almost broke what was left of my restraint.

Kit felt it too. Her thighs tightened around me, holding me close enough that every small shift rubbed me against her pussy and made the whole cabin feel too hot for morning.

The phone buzzed again.

Kit reached blindly toward the nightstand, found the phone, and dropped it over the side of the bed. It landed on the rug with a dull thump.

“There,” she said. “Solved.”

“You’re proud of yourself.”

“Very.” She cupped my jaw, thumb dragging over the morning stubble there. Her teasing softened without losing heat. “Stay here. Just a little longer. The day gets you later.”

I looked down at her, at the woman who’d been my best friend before she’d ever been in my bed, at the woman who knew exactly when I was about to confuse panic with duty.

She’d been here all night. She was still here now.

Naked, wet, warm, and looking at me like she had every right to demand the whole morning.

She did.

My cock ached against her stomach, hard enough to make thinking feel like a waste of blood, and she knew it. Kit’s smile said she knew exactly how badly I wanted to fuck her, exactly how badly I wanted to forget the phone, the Fourth, the lake, and every responsibility outside that bed.

I kissed her palm. Then her wrist. Then the inside of her elbow, because she squirmed when I did that and I loved that I knew it.

“Yeah,” I said. “I can stay.”

Kit smiled, satisfied and hungry. “Good.”

She pulled me down, and July stayed on the floor with my phone.

***

Kit had always been bad at pretending she didn’t want what she wanted.

That morning, she didn’t bother trying.

Her hands moved over me with shameless confidence, down my back, over my ass, up my ribs, claiming every piece she touched like she’d been granted permanent rights and meant to enforce them. Her mouth was on mine, then my jaw, then my neck, teeth dragging just hard enough to make me groan.

“You’re enjoying this,” I said.

She smiled against my skin. “You noticed.”

“I’m observant.”

“You’re hard enough to be obvious.”

I laughed into her shoulder, then kissed my way down her throat.

The laugh left fast when she arched, offering herself to my mouth.

Kit’s skin tasted like salt and sleep and the faint sweetness of the lotion she used after being out in the sun.

I kissed the hollow at the base of her throat, the line of her collarbone, then lower, taking one nipple into my mouth.

Her breath hitched.

There it was. The tiny break before the first real sound. I knew it now. I knew how her body climbed, where she got sensitive when she’d already been loved hard the night before, how she pretended to be in control until my tongue hit the right place and the act cracked.

I sucked her slowly, then used my teeth enough to make her hips jerk.

“God, Nash.”

I cupped her other tit, thumb circling the tight peak, and she pushed up into both touches. Her fingers sank into my hair.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” I said.

“Like what?”

“In my bed. Bossing me around. Acting like you didn’t throw my phone on the floor because you wanted attention.”

“I wanted your attention.” She tugged my hair until I looked up. Her eyes were darker now, all that sleepy blue gone hot. “There’s a difference.”

“Is there?”

“Yes. Attention is when you look at me.” She guided my hand down her stomach, over the soft skin below her navel, and between her thighs. “This is when you remember who you belong to first.”

The words hit me hard.

I slid my fingers through her folds, and she was soaked. Kit’s head pressed back into the pillow, her lips parting as I circled her clit with my thumb. I pushed two fingers inside her, careful at first because last night had not been gentle, and her body took me with a slick, greedy clench.

Her pussy gripped my fingers like she wanted to pull them deeper, and the sound she made went straight to my cock. She was swollen, sensitive, already messy from wanting me, and I loved how openly she let me see it.

“Like that,” she whispered. “Don’t get careful on me now.”

“You’re sensitive.”

“I’m yours. Pay attention.”

I did.

I curled my fingers forward, watching her face while my thumb kept steady pressure on her clit.

Her hips started moving with my hand, small at first, then more demanding.

Her tits shifted with each breath. Her hair stuck to her cheek.

The flush began at her collarbones and spread upward, and my cock throbbed against her thigh because I knew what that flush meant.