Page 120 of Theta

"I think you're good." I cup the backs of his calves, slide my hands up to his thighs, glance around again to make sure no one is watching us, and then slip my hands up and under his shorts to grip the sweaty bubbles of his ass. "Very, very good."

He gazes down at me, drops his hands from his head, and fists them at his sides—right at eye level, his bulge is moving. Shifting. Unfurling. "I know a place where we can be alone."

"For how long?" I ask.

He rolls a shoulder. "As long as we want. You trust me?"

I slide my hands out and extend them in an ask for help up—he tugs me to my feet and tucks me against his chest, my hands trapped between our equally sweaty bodies. "That's not a real question, is it?" I ask. "Because obviously.”

"Then pack a bag and meet me at the docks in twenty."

"I need a shower," I say.

He shakes his head. "Nah. We're just gonna get all sweaty and…sticky…anyway." His eyes flick to my chest—I picked my sports bra with him in mind, so while it's meant for compression and containment, it’s a sexier one, with a lot of very complicated straps and more cleavage than a sports bra technically needs; I caught his eyes following the bounce as I did certain impact-heavy movements.

"What do I need to pack, then?"

A shrug. "Whatever you think you may need on an uninhabited Caribbean island, alone with me.”

"For how long?" I ask.

"Until we run out of supplies?" he says. "I was thinking a few days. Two or three."

"Three or four, you said?" I tease.

“What’s that you say? Five or six…weeks?” he says, laughing.

"We'd miss Wi-Fi and A/C, eventually,” I say. I cup his face and kiss him, slowly and deeply. "I love you."

"I love you more." He brushes a thumb over my lips. "I know it's been a long wait for us, but I am kinda glad we've taken the time to heal fully. I don't want either of us to have to worry about hurting each other by accident because we got too carried away."

I nuzzle his chin with my nose, slide my lips over his jawline. "I know. Me too. Plus, I think we've gotten to know each other emotionally a lot better. Which is important to me. I know I know you, but…" I trail off, start again. "I don't know what I'm trying to say."

"I think I do," he says. "We avoided getting too close emotionally for a long time because we were hiding our attraction. Now we don't have to." He kisses my temple, the shell of my ear. "I'm glad we've had this time. I don't…I don't want this relationship to be based purely on sex. I know it wouldn't be anyway, but I'm just glad we've had time to focus on the other elements."

I hook my fingers in the waist of his shorts, nip his chin. "You in those shorts is killing me, Killy. I'm about out of self-control, here. So you'd better get us to this island of yours, stat, or I'm gonna do something embarrassing right here, right now."

He steps back, eyes closing as he lets out a tight, slow breath. "Don't threaten me with a good time." His gaze flicks over my shoulder, and the heat in his gaze dissipates. "Your mom is watching us."

I pat his chest. "Docks. Twenty minutes." I lean in and kiss him, deeply, slowly, and with lots of tongue—a promise of what's to come. "And Killy-baby?"

"Mmm?" he grumbles, looking at me as if the kiss left him dizzy.

I touch my lips to his ear, whispering. "I went on birth control not long after we got here."

He hangs his head, growling wordlessly, resting his forehead on my shoulder. "Story, shit."

I step into him, pressing my lower belly against his package. "I want you inside me, Killy." I nip his earlobe, breathing my next words directly into his ear. "Bare."

He straightens, glares down at me; making sure I'm watching, he shoves his hand down the front of his shorts and adjusts his hardening member. "Jesus, Story."

I grin. "The dock. Twenty minutes."

"You do realize you're the only thing between your mom and an eyeful of my…situation?" he says.

I glance down at his impressive but still only partially engorged cock, and then up at him, biting my lower lip. “Tease." I lift up and kiss him quickly. "I'll distract her. You get out of here."

He pivots and strides away with single-minded purpose—he's walking as fast as he possibly can without it turning into a goofy-looking power walk. Once he's on his way, I turn and go to Mom, who is winding down her run, slowing from an all-out sprint to a run, then a jog, and then a sedate, cool-down walking pace.