His eyes sparkle in the moonlight. “Well, I assume under relevant experience, you listed the Goldenrod Estates.”
The mention of that place brings to mind all sorts of mischief. A few years ago, Goldenrod Estates was a housing development still under construction just south of Avalon Bay. Another gated community for people with more money than taste, all those gaudy McMansions sitting on top of each other. But when the hurricane came through and tore down half the town, construction halted as every company rushed to snap up all the restoration and repair work they could get. The places were abandoned for months, leaving kids like us to roam free through the empty, open homes.
“That was a good summer,” I admit. One of our fonder memories.
“The empty pool party.”
“Oh, shit. Yes. Like fifty people crammed in a huge concrete hole.”
“Then Billy comes running up and says the cops are coming.”
The night in question flashes through my mind. I remember my brother’s frantic entrance, how we’d shut off the music and turned out the flashlights. All of us holding our breath, crouched down in the dark.
“And your dumb ass decides to be the hero,” I say, more in amusement than accusation. “Climbs out of the pool and runs across the street.”
“You didn’t have to follow me.”
“Well, yeah.” I sway with the current, letting my toes drag in the sand as the force of the tide pushes and pulls. “But I wasn’t letting you go to jail alone.”
The memories keep surfacing. Evan and I got up on the roof of a house across the street, watching the red and blue lights grow brighter against the walls of the unfinished houses as cars drew closer. Half a dozen cruisers, at least. Then, hoping to distract the cops from our friends, we began waving our flashlights, shouting at the officers to get their attention. We leapt off the roof, pounding pavement and darting through houses as we ran from the cops, eventually losing them in the woods.
God, we were invincible together. Untouchable. With Evan, I was never bored a minute in my life. Both of us were constantly feeding the high, looking for the next shot of adrenaline as we pressed the limits of our own capacity for trouble.
“There a guy?” he asks suddenly. “Back in Charleston?”
“What if there was?” But there wasn’t, not really. Just a series of unimpressive dates and short-lived relationships that mostly passed the time. It’s tough when you’re comparing every guy you meet to the one you ran away from.
“No reason,” he says, shrugging.
“Just want to talk to him, right? Just a chat.”
Evan smirks. “Something like that.”
I can’t help that his jealousy excites me. It’s stupid and petty, I know, but in our bizarre way, it’s how we show we care.
“What about you? Any girls?”
“A few.”
I frown at his vague tone. Feeling the claws trying to come out, I force myself to retract them. Force myself not to picture Evan with another woman. His mouth on someone who isn’t me. His hands exploring curves that aren’t mine.
But I fail. The images swarm my brain and a low growl escapes my throat.
Evan laughs mockingly. “Just want to talk to them, right?” he mimics. “Just a chat?”
“No. I want to burn their houses down for touching you.”
“Damn, Fred, why do you always go right to arson?”
I snicker. “What can I say? I run hot.”
“Damn right.” His hands glide up my stomach to cup my bare breasts. He squeezes, winking at me.
I shiver when his fingertips dance over my nipples, which pucker tightly. Evan notices the response, and a faint smile tugs at his lips. He’s so good-looking it’s almost unfair. My gaze sweeps from his chiseled features to the defined muscles of his bare chest. His sculpted arms. Flat abdomen. Those big, callused hands that had just pinned me down while his hungry mouth feasted between my legs.
“You’re killing me, Gen.” Evan growls the words at whatever he sees playing out on my face. His fingers bite into my flesh. “Don’t do that unless you mean it.”
“Do what?”
“You know what.” Holding onto my waist, he walks us backward toward shore. “You’re having fuck-me daydreams. I’m pretty much there, if you want to go again.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He presses himself against me, letting me feel him hard against my leg. “You’re a tease, you know that?”
“I do.” We reach dry sand. Standing there, we stare at each other, until a tiny smile tickles my lips. “You like it.”
Then I kiss his neck. His shoulder. Down his chest until I’m on my knees with his erection in my grip, stroking him. Evan runs both hands into his hair and drops his head back, breathing heavy.
When I don’t do anything, he peers down at me, his dark eyes burning with need. “Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to suck it?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” I lick my lips, and he lets out a tortured groan.
“Tease,” he says again, trying to thrust forward.
I tighten my grip in warning, but that just makes his eyes gleam brighter.
“More,” he begs.
“More what?” I use my index finger to draw teeny circles around the tip of his cock, prolonging his torture.
“More everything,” Evan chokes out.
His hips snap forward again, seeking contact, relief. Laughing at his desperation, I slide my tongue up his shaft and then take him in my mouth.
He moans loud enough to wake the dead.
There are things about Evan I’ve missed more than others. Getting wasted, blacking out, waking up in a random closet of some random warehouse wearing clothes that weren’t my own—I could live without some of those memories. But how he makes me feel when we’re alone? How he gives himself over to me, trusts me completely—I love this version of us. The good us.
I relish in the soft groans that vibrate in his chest and the tension tightening his muscles. The way his hands drop to his hips, then to my hair, as he resists the urge to thrust hard and fast, because one time I gently bit him in warning and now he lives in fear of me—just a little. It’s our game. I’m on my knees but he’s the one at my mercy. I make him feel only what I give him. The pleasure and anticipation. Slowing to prolong the experience, rushing to pull him to the edge of frustration. Until finally, he breaks.
“Gen, please.”
So I let him come, pumping him until he reaches his release. Then, totally spent, he slinks to the ground and tugs me to lie with him on the blanket.
We’re quiet for a while. Surrounded by the comforting darkness, surrounded by only the sound of the breeze rustling the palm trees and the waves rushing up the sand.
“Did I tell you my mom texted me?” Evan says suddenly.
It’s not at all where I expect his mind to go, and I hesitate to entertain the subject. Not because it bothers me in any particular way, but I know it tends to upset him.
“She wants me to meet her in Charleston. Make amends or whatever.”
“Does Cooper know?”
“Nope.” Evan stretches to clasp his hands behind his head, prone under the stars. His beautiful profile is strained when I turn to peek at him. “Last time she was in town, she stole his life savings.”