Page 59 of Palm South University: Season 3

“What happened?”

She scrunches her nose. “I don’t really want to talk about it, honestly. If that’s okay.”

I nod, stealing my beer back and taking a pull. For a while we just stand there together, listening to the water lap against the back of the boat. The party seems to have died down a little, but there’s a small bonfire in the middle of the sandbar, and everyone who’s still conscious is gathered around it. Everyone but me and Skyler, anyway.

“So, how have you been?” she asks, breaking the silence. “I see you’re kicking ass at president, just like we all knew you would.”

I give her a crooked smile, eyes still on the shore. “It’s keeping me busy just like I thought it would, but I’m happy,” I lie.

Skyler nods. “I get that. I’m pretty much in an exclusive relationship with poker.”

“Is he at least good in bed?”

She snorts. “I wish. How about you, you find any time to date or at least have a little fun between throwing all your awesome parties and philanthropy events?”

“I barely find time to shower, let alone date.”

Skyler laughs.

“Besides, I doubt there’s a single girl out there who would be okay to show up at odd hours of the night, fuck, and then leave. Not without feeling used or demanding a cuddle session, first.”

“No time to cuddle either, Brooks?” she teases.

I smile, taking another drink from my cup before passing it to her. “Savage, I know.”

“Why can’t that be a thing, though?” she asks on a sigh. “Why is there this big stigma against casual sex. At the end of the day, we’re animals. And we have needs. Is it so bad to find a release in someone without taking them to dinner first or making them breakfast after?”

“Right? Like what’s wrong with catching a nice orgasm and then catching some Zs?”

Skyler tosses her head back on a laugh, and I chuckle, too, distracted from thoughts of Cassie, at least temporarily.

“I miss you,” she says, still smiling as her hair blows behind her in the soft breeze.

I nudge her. “Miss you, too.”

Skyler is still watching me, and when I turn to meet her gaze, my eyes drop to where her tongue is wetting her lips.

A rush of memories floods through me all at once — Skyler spread out in my sheets, my hand between her thighs, her nails raking down my back. I flick my gaze back to hers and find hooded eyes, watching me, waiting.

The next thing I know we’re stumbling inside the yacht, fumbling our way down the stairs into the bottom cabin, a tangle of arms and mouths and hands. I slam her against the door in the bottom cabin as soon as the door is shut and locked behind us.

“Just tonight, no one needs to know,” she says, sliding the straps of her one-piece off her shoulders and peeling it down to the floor. She kisses me hard as soon as she’s naked, hiking one leg up over my thigh.

I run my hand down between her spread legs, brushing her wet center just enough to earn a soft moan from her lips. “Just tonight. No breakfast.”

She laughs into my mouth, spinning until I’m the one pressed against the door. “I hate eggs, anyway.” And with that, she drops to her knees, pulling at the strings on my board shorts as I make quick work of the buttons on my shirt, tossing it somewhere into the dark. I don’t even know where we are or what kind of room it is. It’s pitch black, no windows, just the two of us feeling and touching and tasting.

Every breath is amplified as I kick out of my shorts once she drops them to my ankles, and before I can even prepare for it, her mouth is wrapped around my cock.

“Oh, fuck,” I groan as she rolls her tongue over the crown before sliding her lips down to my base. I’ve never met a girl who gives better head than Skyler Thorne, and I’m immediately reminded of that fact as one hand grabs my balls and she pulls me all the way to the back of her throat.

I’m thankful for the alcohol coating my system, because otherwise I likely would have come right then.

Fisting my hands in her hair, I let her take the lead, head hitting the door behind me with athunkas my drunken senses are overwhelmed with the way her mouth feels. When she starts using her hand in sync with her mouth, it’s too much. I reach for her arms blindly, pulling her up until our lips are sealed together again.

Even though it’s been months since I’ve touched her, she still feels familiar — a little like home, a little like my favorite vacation spot. I reach down for the backs of her thighs and lift, letting her wrap herself around me as I stumble forward into the darkness for something to fuck her on. There’s a clamor of dishes when we hit a counter, and it’s then I realize we’re in a small kitchen.

Perfect.