Tiger Lily - May Dawson Page 0,35

of the most ridiculous boxers I’d ever seen. They were navy blue boxers decorated with little green frogs. Kiss the frog and see if it turns into a prince…

I inhaled suddenly, surprising myself, as if I’d forgotten to breathe there for a few long seconds.

“Ready?” he asked

Focus, Lily.

“One second,” I said, shedding the dress.

“I’ll meet you in the water,” he said.

He waded into Silver Springs, the water rippling around his body. The moonlight shone on the water, and as beautiful as it was, it was his body that drew my gaze.

I threw the dress over a tree branch to protect it from the evening dew and followed him to the water’s edge.

I hated the water. That was no surprise, I guessed.

But for him—and for the teenage girl who secretly adored him and always longed to be the one he brought skinny-dipping—I waded in.

The water was cold at first and I hissed in surprise, which just made him laugh at me.

So I had to splash him. It had to be done.

He splashed me back, and it turned into a full-on war until I finally begged for mercy. His eyes danced with mischief as he pushed his wet hair back from his face with both hands, his muscles ripping with the motion.

I realized I’d forgotten to feel shy. I lay back, the water feeling warm and pleasant now, and let it buoy me up. He floated beside me, his fingertips accidentally brushing mine from time to time.

“You look so beautiful with your hair spread in the water.” His voice was muted because my ears were floating underwater, but he still sounded sexy, and as warmth glowed in my chest, a smile curled across my lips.

“I guess that’s one way to tame my curls.”

“I love your curls.”

“Maybe I do too,” I said. It really depended on the day, but I turned my head to one side and caught him watching me. The way he was looking at me right now, I could stand to really appreciate them.

But the moment was too intensely sweet, so I splashed him.

He went under water, then suddenly sprang up, tackling me.

I playfully screamed—apparently I was really channeling my inner teenage girl—as he wrapped his big arms around me. He surfaced, laughing, using his hand to push his wet hair back from his face.

“You needed to get all wet.”

“I was already all wet!”

He was grinning as I tackled him, but somehow that tackle turned into my body pressed against his, into slow kisses.

Then I was bobbing in the water, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He buried his face in my shoulder, kissing me intently.

The water might still be cool this early in summer, but with the heat between our bodies, I was hot with him pressed against me. He went on kissing me, but I wanted more and more.

“Dylan…” I murmured.

“Mm?”

“When you were skinny dipping with all those girls, did you ever…”

He looked at me, and I felt myself blush. I smacked his shoulder. “You know what I’m asking you!”

“But it’s more fun if I make you say it,” he said, before kissing my mouth so I couldn’t say it anyway.

I got very distracted from our original conversation. I hadn’t seen him yet, but I could feel the hard press of his cock as we bobbed in the water. I wrapped my legs around him, wanting to be even closer, as the two of us traded kisses.

He finally broke away and asked me innocently, “What did you want to know? Did I ever do what here? Catch one of those psychedelic frogs to lick? You know the guys on the football team used to Do the Frog.”

“Dylan…”

“Mm?” The mischievous smile on his lips told me he knew exactly what he was doing. Then he told me, “No, Lily. I never had sex with a girl in the water.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, it’s logistically improbable,” he teased. “Do you know how hard it is to maintain a hard-on in the water?”

“That’s one thing. What’s the other?”

He put his lips close to my ear. “There were some things I wanted to do with someone special.”

“I see.” I didn’t dare hope that I was someone special.

He licked his lips as he studied me, as if that confession had left him nervous.

“Do you have something to say?” I asked him, my voice mock innocent, after what he’d done.

His hands skimmed my waist in the water, holding me close to his body. His fingers traced down my skin, down to the waistband