The First Taste - Page 18

I surface early. Lick the taste of salt from my lips. Let my eyes drift to Daisy.

She swims toward me with steady strokes. “Hey.” Her lips curl into a smile. Her arms move back and forth. Her legs circle.

She knows how to tread water. Most people don’t.

She dips beneath the surface. Emerges with her light hair sticking to her cheeks and chest. “You’re fast.”

“I have practice,” I say.

Her gaze shifts to Luna. Even though the waves are small, a foot or two, she’s reveling in diving under them. “Were you on the swim team?”

“For three years.”

“Only three?”

“Yeah.” I lower my foot. Find the sand. “Some shit happened senior year.”

“Is it a secret?”

“You could say that.”

Her eyes perk. “I didn’t know you had secrets.”

“They wouldn’t be secrets if you knew.”

Her smile stays soft. “True.” She swims a little closer. Rests her hand on my shoulder. “You mind?”

“No.” Fuck, her touch feels good. “You need the help floating?”

“For a second.” Her body drifts toward mine. Her chest hits my side. Her arm slings around my shoulder. Her smile widens. “Flying always makes me tired.”

“Me too.” I pull her a little closer.

So she doesn’t have to struggle to stay afloat.

Not because I want her closer.

Fuck, she smells good. Like salt and sunscreen.

She looks up at me like I’m going to save her.

It fills my chest with warmth. With a warmth I rarely feel. That I usually avoid.

But I like when it’s from her.

“This is what I want.” She licks her lips. “Quiet afternoons in the water.”

“And loud nights at the clubs?”

She shakes her head. “Maybe a few drinks at a quiet restaurant.”

“Then we ditch Oliver, dance all night, skinny dip at the sunrise.”

Her laugh is light. Easy. “Quiet dancing?”

“A silent rave. You listen to your music. I listen to mine.”

“So we’re dancing to different songs?”

“Guess that won’t work.”

Her fingers dig into my shoulder. “How old were you?”

“Huh?”

“The secret. The thing that kept you off the swim team a year.”

“My senior year,” I say.

“My age?”

I nod. Fuck, that feels like it was a million years ago. Like I was a stupid kid who knew nothing. “You’ll have to get me drunk if you want to find out.”

“Really?” Her voice is soft. “You’ll just tell me?”

“I have poor impulse control.”

Her eyes travel down my body. She doesn’t say it. But it’s there. You’re doing fine not tearing off my bikini.

Or maybe that’s my head.

She’s not the casual sex type. Sure, she likes me, but I doubt she’s thinking about pushing my board shorts to my knees and mounting me.

Fuck, that’s an idea.

“Isn’t that everyone when they’re drinking?” she asks.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna make you keep up with me.”

Her eyes go wide.

“I do a shot, you do a shot.”

“You’re a lot bigger than I am.”

You have no fucking idea. “I’ll do two to start. Give you an advantage.”

“I’ll think about it.” She leans into my chest. For a second, she looks me in the eyes. Looks at me like she’s going to kiss me.

Then she releases her grip on my shoulders.

Pushes away from me.

“Tomorrow.” She smiles. “When it’s legal.”

She means drinking, but that’s not where my head goes.

Chapter Ten

Daisy

The water is perfect. Refreshing, calm, beautiful.

A brilliant blue that stretches over the horizon.

I glide around the surface. Dip my head. Press off the sand.

It’s hard to breathe with Holden this close. I have to keep my back to him. To ignore the heat of his stare.

I’m imagining things.

There’s no way he’s looking at me like that.

He flirts a little, sure. He offers to show me porn, buy me condoms, help me find a boyfriend or a date or a one-night stand.

But it’s always in a friendly I’m just looking out for you way. For some reason, he wants Oliver—and everyone else—to believe he has bad intentions. I know the truth.

I see past that whole I’m a troublemaking bad boy thing.

Sure, he has the mischievous eyes and the charming smile and the tattoos.

God, those tattoos. I fail to stop myself from turning around. From taking in the dark ink spreading over his shoulders. The same as the pattern his brother has. Flowers in grey.

His mom’s favorite?

That Latin quote on his chest.

dulce periculum

Danger is sweet.

So Holden.

So irresistible.

What is it about him? It’s more than his green eyes, his gorgeous smile, his strong body.

It’s not just that he’s hot.

That he curses like a sailor.

And flirts like a temptress… tempter… Whatever it’s called.

I dive beneath the surface.

For a moment, the dark, cool space makes everything clear. I’m here. Enjoying the week in Mexico. Celebrating my birthday. My independence. The next phase of my life.

I want Holden. I want his incredibly attractive body. But I want more than that too.

I want to know him. And for him to know me.

It’s out of the question—how could I ever tell him?—but it’s nice fantasizing for a minute.

Tags: Crystal Kaswell Erotic
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