Page 114 of Take the Plunge

He doesn’t have to ask twice.

I scramble off the bed and grab four towels. “Let’s go.”

He laughs but is hot on my heels as I go downstairs and put my shoes on to a chorus of squeaking, rattling, frantic lovemaking.

We hold hands as we walk through the forest to the lake. The path is much nicer underfoot when I wear proper shoes instead of too-small flip-flops. When we get to the jetty, I abandon the towels, and we get out of our clothes and jump into the water. The moment I come up for air, Jett is there, holding me, caressing and kissing me.

“It’s beautiful out here,” he says as he gasps for air.

“It’s where we had our first kiss.”

He strokes my cheek. “How could I forget?”

I stare into his eyes. Just like that first time, the stars are reflected in his dark brown eyes and the water around us. Just like that first time, I feel like I’m swimming in infinity. Jett is bolder than he was before. When he kisses me, it’s with a demanding purpose. He doesn’t hesitate to press his body against mine beneath the water. Doesn’t shy away from letting our cocks rub and slip over one another. He loops one arm around my shoulders and grips my arse cheek with the other, squeezing, rubbing, and stroking. I want to tell him a thousand times over that I love him. My heart swells with the thought of doing just that.

We swim to the shallower part of the lake so we can stand and concentrate on kissing rather than keeping afloat.

“We should come here every summer,” I whisper.

“To relive our first kiss?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’d like that.”

“It’s not a scary thought?”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Thinking about coming here a year from now. Two years from now. Three. Four. Five.”

“A little,” he admits.

“Tell me to stop if I say things that scare you.”

“No.”

I widen my eyes. “No?”

“You’re telling me what you want. You’re telling me you see a future with me.”

“D-do you see a future with me?” I’m almost afraid to hear his answer.

He runs his hand through the water, creating ripples that get bigger. The movement of the water distorts the reflection of the moon and stars, making them wobble and appear longer than they really are.

“Do you remember saying you wished you had a crystal ball?” he asks.

“Yes, but they don’t exist.” I roll my eyes. “Well, they do, but you can’t see the future in them.”

“When I imagine crystal balls, I imagine being able to see infinity inside them.”

I smile, even though I’m unsure where he’s going with this topic. “Me too.”

“Look at the water.”

I do.

“What do you see?”