thirty

Meghan peeked out the window for the tenth time.  Kaylynn smacked her on the hip.

“They’re fine!  Stop worrying!”

Meghan shook her head and turned away.  “I just don’t trust them.  Well, him.”

“How’s it been since you told him?”

Suddenly breaking up squares of chocolate and arranging them on a plate seemed to require all of Meghan’s attention.  Kaylynn waited a moment before giving up.  “That well then.”

“He’s… sad, I guess, and angry at me for not telling him.  Which he should be.  We haven’t talked much at all, but I cleared out my stuff and he didn’t seem overly upset.”

“That’s good, right?” Kaylynn asked, opening a box of graham crackers.

Meghan thought of the long metal skewers that had come with the cottage, perfect for making s’mores.  Or stabbing a guy from across the fire pit.  “Or he just hasn’t figured out how bad it is yet.”

She wanted to have more faith in James, so Meghan sat between him and John and passed the tray of food to James first.  The sun was barely setting and the overhead sky was streaked with hot pink and orange trails of cloud.  It was balmy but the fire lent ambience and was convenient way to consume more calories.  Between the deli they’d cleaned out for late lunch and the beers everyone keep fetching from the cooler, this was not a Gary Roberts-approved evening.  No wonder the boys looked so happy.

John tapped his bottle against Meghan’s and they shared a smile in the dying light.  The afternoon had gone off without a hitch.  Meghan was grateful for John’s effort - he hadn’t brought up the bunk beds nor had he tried to stake a claim by touching or kissing her.  They sat close and brushed against each other, it was very discreet.  It felt good not to hide their relationship but neither one wanted to rub it in James’ face.  

For his part, James felt okay.  A little lonely, if he was honest, to be in such a beautiful place without anyone special to share it.  A cabin full of bros would have been another story but a sunset like tonight’s called for a girl in your lap and a kiss on your lips.  James was well aware of being the only one without.

He snuck glances at Meghan.  She never caught him but John did.  James had to give it to the guy - if the roles were reversed, he might have already pushed Tavares off the dock.  Just another reason the roles were not reversed.  James gave John a little nod to acknowledge that he knew his place.

Steven and Kaylynn were a different story.  Lovebirds from the start, something seemed different about this almost immediately upon arriving.  They were gazing at each other for long stretches of time, forgetting everything going on around them.  At first James thought it was his cynicism talking, until Meghan said:

“I swear, if you two stare into each other’s eyes for one more second, the fish are going to pop out of the lake and start singing.”

“Kiss de girl, woahwoah,” John sang on cue.  Steven snarfed a laugh but Meghan and Kaylynn both looked at John like they’d seen gold.

“Did you just…?” Kaylynn asked.

“Was that from…?” Meghan started.

“Oh my God,” they both laughed.  James put his head in his hand.  No way he could compete with that.

The evening passed as one might have at home, albeit with a nicer setting.  They lounged around the fire until it was nothing more than embers, until the last of daylight faded and stars winked to life overhead.  They were endless.  Just a few hours from the city and everything seemed so different. A few houses down, faint strains a party could be heard.  No one made a move to investigate.  Conversation eventually died out until the lapping of the water was the loudest noise between them.

“Okay,” Kaylyn said, shaking everyone out of their own little worlds.  “Everyone go around and tell us the worst date you’ve ever been on.”  She was looking right at James, trying to keep him engaged in this weekend he had planned.

I’m on it now, James thought sullenly, but he forced himself to smile.  Not many of his dates went badly these days, unless he counted the girl expecting to be called again.  Some had been too ridiculous to share with this crowd so he carefully selected a tame one.

“A guy I know set me up on a blind date when I first moved to Pittsburgh.  I didn’t know anyone, so I thought what the hell.  I get to the place and the hostess takes me to the table and this girl - blond, cute, all dressed up - is giving me the dirtiest look.  Then she says to the hostess, ‘Sorry, I’m waiting for someone.’  I’m like, ‘Jenny, right?  I’m James.’   The girl does the longest, rudest once-over,” James demonstrated on Kaylynn, rolling his eyes slowly from her feet to her face, “and says really loud, ‘No, my date plays for the Penguins.’”

Meghan’s mouth fell open - she’d never heard James tell any story in which women were not throwing their panties and themselves at his feet.  Steven was laughing, John was trying not to.

“What did you do?” Kaylynn asked.

“Left her there,” James shrugged.  “She’s probably still there, waiting for Crosby.”

“At least people know the Penguins,” John said.  “In New York it’s, ‘The who?’ ‘The Islanders.’ ‘The what?’”

“When in doubt, I just say I play for the Rays,” Steven admitted of Tampa’s baseball team.  “Never once has a girl known it was a lie.”

“Are you wearing your baseball pants when you say this?” Kaylynn asked.  “Because I promise no one is listening to what you say.”

“Aw honey, are you making a joke? Go put on your bikini and we’ll try that again.” Steven tipped Kaylynn’s chair back, making her yelp.  If he weren’t so strong she’d have ended up right in the lake.  

Kaylynn leaned forward, trying to set her chair upright.  “I think my worst date was the time a guy Twitter-stalked to me a bar and then knocked me down to the floor!”

“Oooooooooooh,” John joked.  He’d been there when Steven had done exactly that.  Never had anyone expected such an inauspicious start to turn out like this.  Stamkos let Kaylynn’s chair down and socked John in the arm instead.

“What’s yours, Tavares?  Ganger stand you up for prom?”

“Yeah but your sister asked me this year, so dreams do come true,” John shot back.  “My worst date was not a date at all.  Meghan can tell it.”

James’ heart stopped.  It was such a casual conversational toss, but he couldn’t hear a story about John and Meghan right now.  It was enough to watch them pretend not to touch or smile at each other, James didn’t think he could stand a romantic comedy episode about their relationship starting out.  All the while, he’d thought his own relationship with Meghan was becoming something too.

“I don’t know if it’s worse than James’, but I might have to given Subban a hard time when I see him.”  Meghan told the story John had shared on one of their first real dates - PK Subban making up a girl at world juniors who had a crush on John, but who John never quite got to meet.  PK convinced John to swipe and sign a jersey for her.

“John shows up to practice and the coach is wearing the autographed, stolen jersey!  There was no girl, just a room full of teammates.”  Laughing and forgetting her self-imposed rules, Meghan touched John openly.  She rubbed her hand against his bicep, pushing his sleeve up the way she’d been doing since she met him.  Something about touching a part of him that wasn’t usually on display drew Meghan like a magnet.

James noticed.  He knew he should have noticed before.

John noticed too, and drew Meghan’s hand away slowly but not without giving it a squeeze.

“Mine was at university,” Meghan said.  “I met the guy at a party on campus freshman year.  A few days later we go to a bar.  I show my ID, walk in first.  Then I hear my name.  Turn around - the bouncer stopped my date at the door and is examining his ID.  Then the bouncer asks me, ‘What’s his name?’  I said, ‘Chris.’  Instantly my date’s face falls and the bouncer laughs.  It’s a fake ID!  The guy wasn’t even eighteen!  Bouncer pockets the fake and closes the door in Chris’ face while I’m still inside.  Never saw him again.”

The boys all cringed.  They’d been playing in the States since before their twenty-first birthdays and were lucky to have avoided similar moments.  

“Okay, Kay - your game, your turn,” Steven prompted.

She made a face.  “I was serious.  You stalked me and tackled me, that wins.”

“That wasn’t a date!” he cried.

“Right, because I had already said no!  And you came out anyway.  I think that makes it a date enough for this story.”

“If I hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be here.”

“So it was a date,” she countered.

“Fine,” he smirked, “then it the best date of my life.  Guess I can just give up trying now.”

Kaylynn threw a marshmallow that his Steven in the forehead like a bulls-eye.  Her chair tipped back again, this time deeper, as Steven grabbed on, taking her so low the ends of her hair touched the water.  She shrieked, dissolving into giggles.

Meghan, watching the two of them, felt that something big had changed since the baseball game.  Steven and Kaylynn had each expressed certain fears and hesitations less than a week ago.  Looking at them now she couldn’t see one.  John nudged her bare foot with his and gave a little smile.  He saw it too.

We’ll be like that, he thought.

Meghan wanted to say, We already are.

With the conversation livened up, it turned to other embarrassing moment and pranks, crazy celebrity moments Kaylynn had seen through her work.  They talked until the sky was full dark.  Sounds from the nearby party reached them in spurts, but Meghan was glad to be here not there.  A warm, clear night, surrounded by friends with nothing but to wake up and do it again.  The only thing she was missing, just inches away, was holding John’s hand.

John thought about reaching for it.  He thought about taking her on a midnight canoe ride, since there was one tied up ten meters away.  He thought about a lot of things they still couldn’t do, not yet, and the ones they could.  So when Meghan yawned he wasted no time declaring the first day of vacation over.

Meghan went right to the bathroom in the hallway and brushed her teeth.  John took his turn after and when he came back into the room, Meghan was under the sheet on the lower bunk.  She lay on her side, giving him as much room as the single bed would allow.  It looked just perfect to John - and felt even better when he climbed in.

“Are you naked?” he whispered, hands quickly discovering that she was.

“How am I going to get out of my clothes with you in here?” she giggled softly.  

“Well, I…,” John hauled himself out of the bed, shucked off his shorts and got back in.  It was very narrow, certainly not made for two people.  Especially when one of them was a professional athlete.  John quickly wondered if his shoulders were wider than his hips and where Meghan would fit most comfortably - then he gave up and turned on top of her.

He had not been sure she’d want to do this here, with James so close by.  That’s why the bunk beds had ruffled John’s feathers so much.  Sleeping close to Meghan was nice but… his body wanted more.  His heart and brain wanted more too.  In fact, everything seemed to agree lately and always when it came to Meghan.  Now she was underneath him, skin warm from the outside air as he greedily touched every part of her he could reach.  It had been a long day of being so close, yet far away.

Meghan pushed her hands into John’s hair and kissed him hard, silencing them both.  No doubt this house had ears but for all her discretion during the day she could not be this close to John without needing to be closer.  And they were adults, dating - this was normal.  She would not let the situation with James take it away.  John had been so good about everything, he deserved the same in return.  Her legs wrapped around his waist and a long day of watching each other quickly turned to having each other.

“Ohgod,” she gasped when he pushed inside her all at once, up to the hilt.

“Shhhh,” John whispered against her neck, to keep himself from groaning.  How was so always so soft, so warm, so tight?  It was as if she did nothing but want him and wait all day long to always be ready when the time came.  He waited a moment until he could move without crying out, then stroked again.

They’d had a good time together, Meghan slowly showing an eager John how much fun sex could be.  He certainly had the build for it - two hundred pounds of muscle and endless places to put her hands.  John’s time with Gary Roberts was more evident when they were in bed than anywhere else: she saw and felt and was reduced to a whimpering mess by the changes in his body.  Usually she tried to make him blush at least once before he came, either with something she said or something they tried. It always worked.

Tonight though she just wanted him.  The bed, pushed against the wall, left no room for anything except holding on while he moved.  Meghan enjoyed that as much as anything.  She put her hands overhead and gripped the slat supporting the top bunk.  John pushed his knees under her backside and lifted her hips into his lap.  When his face came down it wasn’t to her lips, but the underside of her breast, the hollow below her sternum.  He traced hidden places, revealed by her position, while he moved inside her.

It didn’t take long for John to feel dizzy - it never did.  Tonight Meghan was his to guide.  He moved back over top; pushing her legs together with his thighs, still buried inside her.  She moaned softly; she felt tighter this way, he imagined he must feel bigger.  John reached up and held on where her hands were, then pressed down with his hips and rubbed against her clit on the way in.  A sound twisted from her throat.

He jerked one hand free and covered her mouth.  It was just the tiniest bit rough.  Meghan’s eyes flashed in the near-darkness.  “Ssshhh, baby,” he scolded in a whisper.

Meghan bit the palm of his hand playfully and when he moved it, she wore a wicked smile.  Nothing turned her on more than John taking charge.  If he wanted to hold her down and have his way - well she might make him work for it, but Meghan was more than willing.  His breathing was heavy against her ear, his body heavy against her frame.  Even his grip alongside her hands was hard and strong, pulling him into her as far as either of them could take.  The wooden bedframe groaned.

They froze.  Meghan snickered.  John barely took his mouth from hers to say, “Be a shame if we broke the bunk beds.  I’m just starting to like them.”

____

Meghan woke in the morning to movement.  Lots of it.  What seemed like the world shaking was just, in fact, John trying to turn over in the twin bed.  She was pressed to his back, one arm tucked around his waist and her own back to the wall.

“What are you…,” she dodged a rolling shoulder.

“I’m squishing you,” he said, trying not to fall to the floor.

“You’re not,” Meghan cinched her arm, nothing but the taut muscle of his side beneath it.  She rubbed her hand on his flat abs.  “I like this.”

“But I wanna,” he sighed.  There was nowhere to go.  “I want to hug you.”

“Nope,” Meghan pressed her lips to the spot between his sculpted shoulder blades.  “You are the little spoon!  And you’re very warm.”  She curled in to match the shape of John’s body from head to toe.  

They lay quietly and listened to movement in the kitchen, then eventually voices.  The house was waking up around them.  A girl laughed, a pan banged, the sink ran.  On cue John’s stomach growled, sending vibration through Meghan’s hand.  She purred against the back of his neck in response and moved her hand down between his legs.

“Once we leave here we’re on best behavior again.”

That was the incentive John needed to roll over.  He only tipped partway off the edge before momentum took him back toward Meghan until they were facing each other.  He loved the soft tangle of her hair in the morning, twisted as much into itself as away from her face.  Thin curtains allowed plenty of beautiful morning light into the room and up close her eyes were as green as John had ever seen them.  He still found it hard to believe this girl wanted to wake up in this bed with him, when she could have anything.

“Hi,” Meghan finally said, aware that John was thinking a much deeper thought as he looked at her.  She’d been thinking something similar, holding onto him from behind, feeling small and fragile against his frame.  Nothing she could possibly do, no matter how tightly she held, could ever matter in John’s real world.  Hockey and pressure and contracts and standings - she wasn’t strong enough to deflect any of those things.  She couldn’t protect him.

She wanted to, though.

Neither trusting themselves with words, their lips fell to kissing and their hands to roaming.  Soon these was gasping and sighing, release and the pile of two bodies in a very small bed.  John’s mouth came to rest against Meghan’s cheek and he nuzzled her soft skin.  

“Now I suppose I can share you with the world,” he lied.

____

“Steven ate your breakfast,” Kaylynn said by way of good morning as Meghan and John made their entrance to the open living room-slash-kitchen.  “He ate mine too, so I ate James’.  There are more bagels by the fridge.”

“Carbs,” John smiled hugely.  He set to work slicing and toasting, then loading two bagels with full fat cream cheese and tomato.  When he turned around, Meghan was holding two coffees.

“Can you put milk in mine?” he asked, hands full.

As if she’d been paying zero attention for the last month.  Meghan gave him the mug and a kiss.  “I know how you like your coffee, John.”

He smiled bashfully and her heart squeezed.  Meghan had learned so much about Summer John, but she wanted to know everything about John in-season - when, where, how he woke up on game day, what he ate, when he napped.  If he believed in the whole ‘no sex’ rule that James had always laughed at but Steven spoke of with a certain reverence.  She bet John was a rule-follower at every turn, except turns that involved her and a bed.  But would she be there, with him, when it mattered?  The next month left a lot to be determined.  Part of Meghan wanted to pull John over the counter and tell him this was it, forever, and she would make him coffee any morning.  She would not care if he lost every game forever.  She would be there.  

Meghan shook her head, coming back to reality.  

John said, “You’re the best.”  He had not missed the look in her eyes.

They carried food outside and piled it next to the empty plates everyone else had left.  James was face down on a chair, arms hanging off the edge above his head.  He didn’t tan so much as freckle, though Meghan noticed he was darker than the last time they’d sat together near his pool.  The colorful ink of his tattoo stood out sharply from shoulder to elbow in a solid sleeve.  Between the long hair, the tattoo and how skinny he’d gotten, James was a different sight than he’d been in so many summers past.

Meghan prodded his leg with her knee.  “You need to eat more.”

“You sound like my mom.”

“Don’t wait till she calls up Robs and gives him the gears about her baby wasting away.”

James snorted and flexed his non-tattooed arm.  The bicep muscle jumped to attention.  It wasn’t quite the level that Steven had built up to, or the natural heft of John’s thicker build, but it was impressive nonetheless.  

Meghan shrugged and said, “Meh.”

Steven laughed because he could.  His muscles had muscles and his chest was so wide a Superman logo would have looked small.  James was skinny, Steven was ripped.  Even lounged out in a chaise his abs appeared to be flexed.  The sun made him blonder and impossibly more healthy-looking.  Kaylynn grinned down at him and Meghan could see what the girl was so happy about.  James gave them all the finger.

Then there was John, munching on a bagel, still wearing his t-shirt and sitting at the table.  He didn’t even have sunglasses on, just squinted up and gave Meghan a smile.  

Sigh, her heart said.  The hottest guy there had no idea.

As they had their breakfast and perfect coffee, John considered the situation he’d gotten himself into.  Meghan wore a bikini under her cover-up - he’d seen it, and less, back in the room.  The result was thrilling.  But he was not thrilled that James would be enjoying the same sight all day long.

He’s seen her a million times.  For years longer than I have, John told himself.  Still he couldn’t help remembering the way James described Meghan way back when - “She looks great around the pool.  Got about ten of the smallest bikinis you’ve ever seen.”  Now that girl actually belonged to someone and maybe that someone didn’t love to share.  John glanced toward Steven, who was sprawled out and oblivious to his 10 of a girlfriend laying nearby.  The two of them looked like a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue cover story.  

Something slapped John’s shoulder.  He saw the tube of sunscreen attached to a long, bare arm attached to a long, almost bare body.  Meghan’s bright green bikini bottom dipped low beneath her navel, reaching toward little silver rings that left open spots at each hip.  The halter top lifted and pushed everything up on it’s way to tie a single thin strap behind her neck.  Her skin was flawless, not a tan line in sight, drawing his eyes right down to the swell of her breasts.  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“Help a girl out?” she asked playfully.

Meghan would never get used to the way John looked at her - surprised every time as if he’d never seen her before.  He cleared his throat awkwardly and squeezed a blob of sunblock into his palm.  The moment before he touched her was always electric with anticipation.  Then his warm, strong hand was on her back and he was the same John who held her at night and reached for her in the morning.  She smiled and John responded by slipping his hand into the back of her bikini bottom.  She giggled and shook her ass.  No one was paying any attention.  When he finished his long, slow application of SPF 30, Meghan turned and gave John a big, full kiss on the lips.

“Thanks.”

“Uugggghhhh,” he groaned quietly, forcing himself to step back.  Meghan took a chair opposite James, leaving the one next to her open.  John finished his bagel in two bites.  He might have to be reserved around Meghan all day but he could still be right next to her.

James kept his eyes closed.  He’d watched Meghan undress to reveal a bikini he’d never seen before.  The green of her suit was a shade or two brighter than her eyes and stunning against her honey-colored skin.  She’d definitely been working out all summer - maybe not their near-death sessions with Roberts, but time at the gym had leaned and toned her from head to toe.  His eyes made it as far north as her ass before he remembered he wasn’t supposed to be looking.  He didn’t need to watch her lay down, stretch out - or be near John.

James turned his face away just in case.

He knew this weekend would be tough.  This morning he’d been greeted Steven and Kaylynn in the kitchen, looking post-coital but ready for another round on the nearest flat surface.  It wasn’t so bad - the girl was cool and James was always glad to see a buddy getting some - but it was different than girls of summers past.  Stamkos had been adamant about this chick.  Now that James slowed down to watch, it was obviously serious.  Like some other things around here.

His once so-familiar relationship with Meghan was now anything but.  James had to think before everything he did or said.  Words sprang to his tongue and were swallowed just as quickly.  He even sensed her effort to be discreet with Tavares like a small change in the air between them.  Whatever heat she had now gravitated toward John, just like her eyes and her smile.  It left James feeling lonely and cold.

Still, she was here.  James had faith he could mend their friendship so long as he keep his emotions in check.

___

“I’m hot,” Steven announced.

“Pffffffffffffft,” Meghan razzed loudly, sending Kaylynn into giggles.  He threw a hat, she responded with a flip-flop that splashed down into the lake behind Steven’s head.  He was up instantly and jumping in after it.

“Aw, you taught him how to fetch,” she said.

Kaylynn rolled onto her stomach and watched Steven’s blond head pop up ten meters away.  His hair bristled and rivulets of water ran down his face, sending her mind back to the night before, in almost the same spot, where she’d told him she loved him.  Talk about the deep end.  Steven had been so eager to hear it, to say it back, that she felt like he’d saved her from drowning.

“He was trainable,” she replied.

In truth they were all warm enough to be drowsy from a few hours of laying in the sun.  The morning had been quiet compared to last night’s banter and it was beginning to feel like a romantic getaway for 2-and-a-half couples instead of a weekend away with friends.  Meghan, who’d been holding John’s hand in the space between their deck chairs, pushed herself up to sitting.

“Can I drive the boat?”

“No,” James said.

“Can I navigate?”

“No.”

“It’s a lake, what am I gonna do, get lost?” she protested.

“Yes,” Steven and James both answered.  John laughed.  If Meghan was bad with directions, this was the first he’d heard.  Then again, he hadn’t really been anywhere with her except between their houses and up to the cottage using GPS.  Her old car had been, well, old and didn’t have a GPS unit.  Phones did, but that could be dangerous while driving.  John made a mental note to get her a Garmin for her new car and program his place on Long Island as the only destination.

“Does Kaylynn get to drive?” Meghan asked.

Steven opened his mouth to say ‘of course not’ but Kaylynn gave him a withering stare.  Instantly his shoulders rolled down.  “Uh, if she wants.”

“Pffffffffffffft.”  It was James this time.  “No one drives but me.”

That lie became evident after they motored the white 15-foot powerboat out into open water.  The boys took turns behind the wheel while someone else was behind the boat on a toy.  The tube went first - girls insisted - but ended when the fun ride quickly became a contest of throwing someone off.  Meghan nearly lost the top of her suit the second time she got tossed, while James was driving.  He winked as he pulled alongside for her to climb aboard.  She rolled her eyes.

When Neal got on the wakeboard, Meghan was reminded of so many summers growing up, coming to a place like this with parents and later with friends.  Competitive to a fault, James had always been serious about the games they played.  He was up on the board in no time, clipping across the surface, catching air over the boat’s wake.  Shirtless beneath a life jacket, Meghan saw the same muscle he’d flashed on the dock being put to good use.  Maybe Roberts knew what he was doing after all.

John sat down next to her, holding out a fresh beer.  Icy condensation dripped onto her toes.  Meghan twisted away from the sight of James and instantly lost her train of thought.  John was darker, with his wet hair plastered everywhere.  Summer tan made the sexy scar above his lip stand out.  His eyes were hopeful.  His shoulders were broader, his chest more defined, his body thicker and stronger and… kiss.  Their lips were like magnets, surprisingly stuck until they realized how much force was needed to pull away.  

John’s fingers squeezed dents into his own full beer.  A twinge of jealousy had brought him over when he saw Meghan watching at Neal.  The feeling was quickly erased by the way she was looking at him now.

“My turn,” John said, meaning everything.

Meghan got it.  She called forward to Steven, “Ugh, knock this guy off!”

It only took a minute for Neal’s graceful run to end in a big splash.  John zipped into a preserver and swam out to the tethered board.  Neal gave him a high five on the way by.  James would drive hard enough to throw John into Quebec if he could, but Steven stayed at the helm.  John pushed the wakeboard beneath the surface and slipped his foot into the hold.  He’d spent his own summers on lakes growing up and was no slouch when it came to sports.

The machismo on the boat soared as James climbed aboard and approached Steven.  Kaylynn abandoned her boyfriend to his own defenses and joined Meghan at the back.  Sprawling next to her on a white leather bench seat, she felt the boat accelerate and watched John rise easily out of the water.

He was sturdier than James, or so Kaylynn imagined.  Where Neal was rangy, John was more compact.  Neither of them were built for flight like Steven.  Having never paid much attention to hockey, Kaylynn was surprised by the many body types that could get the job done.  Of course, she prefered the type that got it done for her, personally and often.  Still she had to admit John was pretty hot.  He seemed very different from the guy who’d been Steven’s wingman way back on that fateful, Twitter-stalking night.

He’s in love, Kaylynn thought.  And judging from the look on Meghan’s face, she was just as gone.  

On cue, Steven gave James the wheel.  Neal turned the boat over hard and arced back on his own course.  The tether snapped taut, John bent his knees to catch a big edge of wake and delivered a perfect three-quarter flip.  

Woah, Kaylynn thought.

“Showoff!” Meghan yelled.  She turned to Kaylynn, almost surprised that someone had snuck up while her appreciation of John was bordering on adult fantasy.  Kaylynn did not look fooled for a second.   “Fuck, that’s hot,” Meghan said. “My nipples are hard.”

Kaylynn nearly choked on her beer.  Meghan, whose blush would have made John proud, dissolved into giggles alongside her new friend.  The boys would never know.

____

Meghan arced a perfect dive the minute James pulled back the throttle.  John had signalled once that he was tired, but James either ignored it or didn’t see until Meghan called time for a swim.  She covered the twenty meters as John freed himself from the wakeboard.

“That was fancy,” she said.  Her arms went around his neck, wet skin skipping where they touched.  John pulled her against his life jacket and twisted their legs together, floating.

“I’m very athletic,” he smiled back.  In truth he’d been glad to stick one to Neal for trying to dump him off the board.  Not that John had done any differently when he was driving.

“You’re very strong,” Meghan purred, moving her slender thigh between his solid ones.  She undid the first plastic clasp on the life jacket.  “And really,” snap, “fucking,” snap, “sexy.”  The jacket opened and she slid her palms along his taut stomach.  John’s cock twitched, blood racing south.  Just like that - with nothing but her hands - Meghan had him completely at her mercy.  His fingers found the delicate silver rings that adorned the sides of her bikini bottom, well beneath the water where no one could see.  Leftover adrenaline from the wakeboard ride begged for release, along with all the desire he’d stored up for Meghan in the few hours since their morning romp.  That’s how John felt all the time: like he was racing toward his next chance to have her.  He shoved the bottom of her suit down.

“John!” she gasped, reaching to redress herself.

“Please, baby,” he said gruffly, turning so his back was to the boat to shield them with the life jacket.   She wiggled, trying to get her bottoms up, but his fingers were faster.  The smooth skin of her pussy was warm to the touch and John dragged a finger along her slit.  “I want you.”

Every light in Meghan’s brain flashed, like the cockpit of a plane about to crash.  She hadn’t meant to be that forward, just to flirt.  Now John was getting hard against her hip as his fingers parted her folds again, bordering on penetration.  She glanced wildly over his shoulder toward the boat.

Steven had a shrieking Kaylynn in his arms.  Her body hit the water with a splash that covered the sound of Meghan’s tiny moan as John pushed inside her.  She clung to the life vest supporting them as he drew those two thick fingers slowly out of her pussy.

John bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.  Meghan’s body, warm and nearly naked against his, was ready in other ways too.  The heat inside her was the place he really wanted to dive.  She was shaking with desire.  His erection, full now, throbbed.  He had never wanted anyone like this - beyond want, he needed her.  With reckless abandon.  Meghan focused her eyes on his and John nearly said it - nearly told her, I love you - but the words seemed somehow less frightening than what he felt right now.

Meghan drew a sharp breath.  It lifted her chest into John’s, forced his solid cock to ride against her hip.  From zero to a hundred, from playing to panting, in the blink of an eye.  She’d been hot for him before but this was new.  This was scary.

“Later,” he hissed, pushing her lower body away and holding it there.  He did not trust his own not to follow.

“John,” she said but he was already wrestling off the life jacket, pushing it toward her.  Always the hero, he probably wasn’t sure she could swim after that just happened.  He was right.  Meghan guided it behind her; the buoyancy adjusted to her weight and she was quickly floating on her back, just breaking the surface.  She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath.

What the hell was that? her brain screamed.  Meghan knew what it was though.  Her mind may have put up a block against things that made no sense, but her heart was pounding down the door.  That had been something between an orgasm and a panic attack, which summed up the way Meghan felt about John.

A minute passed before John could approach Meghan again.  She looked so peaceful floating there, even after that wild moment.  He didn’t want to overwhelm her or scare her away, this girl who seemed so resilient, but that had been a tornado looking for a place to land.  He was in danger of being swept away.

Quietly, John held the edge of the life jacket and bobbed in the water alongside Meghan.  Steven and Kaylynn splashed each other and shouted.  James swam past, hauled himself onto the abandoned wakeboard and started paddling around.  When he was away, Meghan took John’s hand from the preserver and laced it into her own.  Then she turned her head, both of their eyes level with the water.

She smiled.  “Stud.”

Relief washed across John’s face.  He leaned in, kissed her and then ducked under the water.

____