Kissing Nate, I've lost all sense of time in him. All sense of surrounding, and reason, and logic. Everything. I never knew kissing could be this good. Why aren't people doing this constantly? How have I missed out on such a phenomenal thing for all these years?
Never again.
He gently nips at my lip, dipping right back to my mouth without skipping a beat.
Never, ever, ever again.
After who knows how long, we're finally forced to come up for air when water splashes over our ankles and makes us jump apart.
"Oh, shit, the tide came in," Nate says, a smile splitting his face.
We scramble to our feet and move away from the rising water. Now that we've stopped, I'm feeling the ache of my lips and stiffness in my jaw. God, even my face muscles are out of shape.
"Maybe that's a sign we should head back to the party."
"The party," I breathe out. "Right."
Being so isolated with him, I completely forgot about the party. I'm forgetting about everything. I can only see Nate and the twinkle in his eye, and I know he knows I'm flustered. That making out with him has rendered my brain into mush. I feel like that must be a common reaction he gets with girls. Rightly so.
We stroll up the beach, falling into light conversation about nothing I'm really registering. I can't stop stealing glances of his lips.
Nate comes to a stop by our sand angels. "Race you to the top?"
He runs up the dune before I can answer, giving me a taste of my own cheating medicine. I follow with burning calves. Running uphill is tough. Running uphill through sand is brutal. I'm practically wheezing when I reach the top, and I hold up my finger to stop whatever cocky thing is about to come out of his mouth.
"Okay, okay." He zips his lips, then quickly unzips. "But let the record show that I won."
He laughs when I shove him out of my way, mumbling something about me being a sore loser. Once we've gathered our shoes from the deck, we walk up the pathway to the house, coming into the warm lights around the pool.
The pounding music sounding from inside makes my chest squeeze. I would have stayed on that secluded beach with him all night. I rub at my flushed face, still steadying my breath.
"Hey, do you have the time?" he says next to me. "My phone's dead."
I absently slide my phone out my pocket, only for it to be snatched from my fingers. In one fell swoop, Nate tosses our phones on a cushioned lounger, hoists me over his shoulder, and cannonballs into the pool.
In my delayed reaction, my shrieking protest is cut short when we crash underwater. Through a haze of bubbles and shock and cold submersion, I swim up and break through the surface with a gasp.
"What the hell!" I cough, splashing Nate's grinning face. "You ass!"
He shields himself, speaking through a childish giggle. "You looked hot! If helping you cool down makes me an ass, then I'm an ass!"
I can't contain my laughter, watching him dip into the water just below his eyes like an alligator. I can feel my thrumming blood pulsing in my neck. The way he's looking at me isn't helping it calm.
He stands, wiping his face before he rakes back his hair. It instantly flops over his forehead. "How long can you hold your breath underwater for?"
I glide closer, taking in the beads clinging to his ringlets. "Not as long as you can."
"How do you know?"
"Did you not just see me run up that sand dune?"
"Not the same thing," he says, lowering himself into the water again. "You cheated on the way down, I cheated on the way up, so we need a tiebreaker."
"All right. On three," I say, trying to suppress the tingle I just got from watching his tongue swipe away a droplet on his lip. "One."
"Two."
"Three!"
We both take a gasp and plunge under, suddenly surrounded by muffled silence. The lights around the pool refract through the water, dancing over our floating figures. We're looking at each other, and my lungs are already starting to burn, and I know he can tell. The slightest, smuggest smile pulls at his lips as he waits for me to cave. Instead, I swim right up to him, and that smile falters.
I push through the building pressure in my chest, edging closer and closer. Nate's eyes scan over my face as my nose brushes his, our lips almost grazing. He gives in, filling the inch between us to kiss me, losing his air supply when he does. He springs back and shoots through the surface. I closely follow behind, laughing as he coughs up the water he swallowed.
"You did not just fucking cheat again!" he exclaims, his coughs turning into laughs.
"Nope, never!" I smile, fixing the strap of my top.
He wades over. "You know," he says, moving aside the wet strands of hair from my face, "before tonight, I never would've pegged you for someone who's so good at playing dirty."
I rest my cheek in his palm. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to underestimate your opponent?"
"Got me there, DeMarco," he sighs, leaning in. "I'll never underestimate you again."
I taste the chlorine on his lips as soon as he kisses me, smelling it embedded in our skin. I hold onto the collar of his drenched shirt. His hand squeezes the nape of my neck before he slides lower, his palm following the curve of my spine. I part from him with a breath when he finds my hips underwater. Lifting me, dragging me closer, sparking a fire in my depths.
My legs automatically wrap around him, arms doing the same around his neck. Our mouths meet again, and I finally sink my fingers into those black coffee curls, my other hand tracing over prickles on his jaw.
I wonder when last he shaved. It's not noticeable from a distance, and feeling that stubble gives me a strange sense of exclusivity. Like, you wouldn't know this about Nate Miller unless you kissed him. You wouldn't know that his jaw is rough and his lips are soft and his throat vibrates when you tug on his hair.
It's different than it was on the beach. His tongue has coaxed mine to his, our control plummeting as they thrust against each other in growing wildness. Deep and urgent and consuming. My hips roll against him and he makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl, and that makes me grip his hair even harder.
I imagine the water starting to boil around us, bubbles popping and warping the reflection of the twinkle lights. Nate pulls his lips from mine, moving them along my jaw, kissing and flicking my skin before I feel his teeth graze my earlobe. He lightly bites down and triggers a ripple so strong it could create waves in this pool.
"You wanna go inside and find a room?" he murmurs into my ear, voice ragged. "Get out of these wet clothes?"
He draws away, breathing slowly. Deliberately. I think he's more flushed than I am. His hands are settled in the back pockets of my jeans, his eyes drifting to my collarbone, to the sticking fabric of my top. His pupils are so dilated it's hard to see the green.
I mirror his relaxed smile, but my insides are squirming up a storm. He's watching me close, waiting for me to tell him what I want. Giving me the power to end this or take it one step further.
"No." I hold his dark gaze. "We can go to the pool house."
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