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“Then have me.” I whimper out the words.

He reaches up and slides the triangles to my top to the side before palming my breasts, testing their weight before pinching my nipples. Soon his tongue and teeth join his fingers, working me into a frenzy. I roll my hips over his hard length, desperate for friction. Unable to take his torture any longer, I reach down and untie the strings holding my bottom together.

Brock reads my intent loud and clear and taps my leg. “Raise up.” I do, and he quickly shucks his swim trunks down his legs. “Birth control?” he asks, his tone like gravel.

“Yes,” I moan, sinking down onto him. Brock lets me set the pace, and I take my time, working my hips in small, slow circles until we’re both sweaty and writhing. Finally, he takes control and flips us so he’s over me. He thrusts back into me, filling and stretching me. He sets a brutal, punishing pace, taking me right to the edge and into oblivion. The pressure is almost unbearable—right on the edge of pain but still deliciously good, and Brock keeps going, chasing both his release and mine.

“You feel so fucking good. So tight,” he grunts as he hikes my right leg over his shoulder.

“God, yesss,” I hiss as I crash over into white-hot, blinding pleasure. He follows right behind me, pulling out and finishing on my belly, with my name on his lips.

Brock rolls off to the side of me and pulls me into him. “Damn, Abs. Everything feels better with you. But I’m not gonna lie…I think I’ve got sand and dirt in places they got no business being.”

I can’t help but crack up at his words and our situation. Here we are, basically naked in the woods, with semen all over my stomach, while random people float down the river close enough that we can hear them as they pass.Jesus. What if someone would’ve wandered back here and stumbled upon us?

“Yeah. Safe to say we got a little wild. But” —I bite down on my lip— “I kind of like seeing you wild.”

“It’s all for you, firecracker.”

I slide my top back into place and retie my bottoms. “Good. Now give me something to clean up with.”

Brock quickly pulls up his bottoms and looks around for something I can use. “Uh. Bad news Abby Jane…”

“Dammit!” I’ll just use Stacia’s blanket and wash it. Twice.

BROCK

By the time we get our float back on the water, the other tubers are long gone. It’s just me, my girl, and nature. And with the sun starting to dip below the tree line, it’s not quite as warm as it was when we started. Abby Jane shivers, and I pull her body closer to mine—well, as close as I can with the two of us and her bag all on one innertube—and rub my hand soothingly over her shoulder, trying to offer her some extra body heat.

“What time does the last trolley leave?” she asks, sounding sleepy.

“Around dusk.”

“You think we’re gonna make it?”

“Pretty sure. If I remember right, we should be almost finished.”

And sure enough, as we crest the next bend, the little docking area comes into view. “Stay here, I’ll hop off and guide us.” I drop a quick kiss to her slightly sunburned cheeks and slide into the cool water. Once we’re close enough to shore, I help Abby Jane off and the attendant finishes reeling in the raft.

I take her bag and heft it up over my shoulder before taking her hand in mine. We’re the only people on the trolley back, and even though the drive is short, Abby Jane dozes off on my shoulder.

“Hey.” I nudge her shoulder. “Gotta wake up, pretty girl. We’re at the outpost.”

She shakes her head, looking around. “Huh? Oh! We’re back!”

“We are. C’mon. I’m sure West and Stacia are ready to read us the fucking Riot Act.”

As we get closer to the truck, Abby Jane lets out a little laugh. “I don’t know about that…I think they found something to do.”

I follow her line of sight and see that my truck’s rocking and the windows are fogged. “Oh, come the hell on. Inmytruck? Really?” Never in my life have I regretted giving my cousin a spare key more than I do right now.

I fight the urge to barge in, mainly because I don’t want to see anything I can’tun-see. Such as my cousin boning down with my girl’s best friend. Abby Jane, however, has no such qualms and marches right over to the passenger side door and flings it open.Jesus. They didn’t even lock it?

“Stacia Iris Kellan! Put your titties away and get off of his lap!” Abby Jane turns back to face me, giving them a few moments to get situated. Two or so minutes later, Stacia calls out the all clear.

I help my girl into her seat before rounding the truck and climbing into my mine. Without looking back at my cousin, I say, “Not my truck. Anywhere but my fucking truck.”

“We didn’t?—”