to wrestle the fish into the cooler.
We end up catching more fish and by the time the cooler’s full, the sky has started to darken again. We’ve been so absorbed in fishing—and making out in between—that we didn’t notice the clouds gathering.
Alec tilts his face toward the sky and grimaces. “I think we better get back. I don’t want us to get caught in a storm in the middle of the lake.”
Just then, my bobber sinks, and I dive to grab the fishing rod. “Just this one, okay?”
Alec helps me with it, and we manage to get the fish in the cooler just as the first drops of rain start. Thankfully, the wind’s light, and the boat moves smoothly on the surface of the water, Alec’s face scrunched in concentration as he rows.
There’s a certain energy that descends on him when he’s in protector mode. His features get sharper, his smile less genuine, his eyes assessing. In the past couple of weeks, Alec has relaxed so much that his whole demeanor changed. He seems so much younger and so much happier.
Looking at him now, muscles flexing as he tries to get us to the shore as quickly as possible, head bowed down in concentration, I realize with startling clarity that I love every aspect of this man. I love him when he smiles so wide his cheeks dimple and his eyes glitter; I love him when he’s sleepy and sated in bed, cuddling me close as if I’m going to disappear if he lets me go; I love him when he grows serious and assertive, putting his own needs aside to protect me.
I love him.
Always.
“Nearly there,” he says, his eyes trained on my face. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”
I smile. “I’m not worried.” I’m with you. How can I be worried? “I was just thinking.”
He studies me for a heartbeat longer; then his gaze travels to the dock behind us. I look over my shoulder. We’re nearly there. Just as well—the rain’s starting to get heavier, and we’re already soaked.
Alec maneuvers the boat smoothly around and anchors it next to the dock. Jumping out, he ties it to the wooden post, then offers me his hand. I hand him the cooler and the bag first before I jump out of the boat without waiting for his help. Alec catches me when I stumble, his arms enveloping me so fully that I don’t want to move.
We stand there, the rain pouring down on us, the boat wobbling in the water next to us, hitting the wooden dock every so often in a rhythm that’s strangely hypnotic.
“Zach…” Alec says, the sound coming out tortured and lost, so unlike anything Alec has ever said to me before.
Bunching the front of his wet shirt in my fist, I pull him down and smash our mouths together. The taste of the rain mingles with the taste of Alec, and it’s a taste I never want to let go.
Alec groans in my mouth, hands sliding down my own wet shirt and grabbing my ass, fingers so eager he’s probably leaving bruises. I don’t care. I want him to leave as many marks on my skin as he wants. I need him to claim me as his. Need him to feel the way I feel.
“Inside,” he manages between frenzied kisses. “Now, Zach.”
His tone sends a shiver through my body, reminding me of the way he handled me in the stairwell. How he overpowered me, his hands rough and insistent, and yet I didn’t for a second feel alarmed; if anything, I was really fucking turned on.
I keep kissing him. I’m not sure I’ll be able to detach myself from him long enough to run to the house.
With an impatient grunt, Alec lifts me up and hoists me over his shoulder. I yelp in surprise, then laughter bubbles up inside me.
“Put me down, Jesus fucking Christ!” I manage through fits of laugher, my body shaking with every step Alec takes.
On the porch, safely out of the rain, Alec puts me down, laughing when I mockingly punch his arm. “Neanderthal,” I say, trying to glare at him, but ending up smiling instead. The way his eyes glitter with mischief, and his cheeks pink with delight, makes my chest tight with affection for him.
I don’t have much time to dwell on my internal turmoil. Alec grabs me and pulls me flush against him, his mouth on mine with renewed vigor. I weave my arms around his neck, my cock so