by Sarina Bowen
Sure enough, the neighbor’s house is dark. The sky is a deep blue now, heading towards black. The only lights on here are in the pool itself, underwater.
Keaton tosses the towels onto a chair. And then? He tugs the lobster shorts off his trim hips and drops them, too. Naked, he walks to the edge of the pool and dives in.
Hayworths really do know how to party. He wasn’t wrong about that.
I quickly shed my own suit, looking over both shoulders, hoping nobody is watching. But nobody is. I follow him into the water, which is a surprisingly comfortable temperature.
This is the Hamptons. It’s heated, of course.
“Wow,” I say when I come up for air again. “I like the way you think.” I swim over to Keaton, who’s sitting on what turns out to be an underwater bench. “This pool is nice.”
“But they don’t have a sun shelf,” Keaton says, teasingly.
“You’re right. Piece of trash, then. I’ll renovate after I buy the place from Mrs. Pennysworth.”
Keaton doesn’t laugh, though. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and kisses my neck.
I let out a hot breath. And as his mouth makes a slow journey across my skin, I close my eyes and let the sensation push every thought from my mind. In just seconds, I have goosebumps and a hard cock. The warm water laps against my body, and I groan.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Come here.”
Tonight it doesn’t seem weird at all letting Keaton boss me around. I climb into his lap willingly, straddling his big thighs. “I love the Hamptons,” I say as I lean in and kiss him.
He laughs against my mouth, and then I lose myself in his kiss.
Two hours later we’re seated in Keaton’s kitchen. The last few caterers are packing up around us, and Keaton and I are splitting a platter of food. An actual platter. We’re like Vikings at a banquet.
If Vikings ate brisket sliders and crab salad.
The first of what promises to be many more sexual adventures has left us hungry. So I have messy hands and a mouth full of food when a well-dressed woman with Keaton’s coloring strides into the kitchen.
“There you are!” she says brightly.
Oh shit. I’m scrambling for a napkin and trying to chew faster. I can feel my face getting red. And it’s not just the mess. It’s the knowledge of what her son and I were doing only a little while ago…
“Mom,” Keaton says, slurping his cup of punch. “This is Luke.”
She laughs at both of us. “Don’t get up. Would you say this is more like lions feeding or…?”
“Hyenas, maybe,” Keaton says. “Lions take turns.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hayworth,” I manage to say after swallowing.
“Same,” she says, placing a hand on my shoulder as she passes by me. All the Hayworths are touchers, apparently. “I’ve heard so much about you!”
My face might be permanently red now. And I don’t blush. Ever. Then again, I never met my boyfriend’s mom before.
“How many weekends of summer are left?” she asks, turning back to consider us. “Now that Keaton is home, I expect to see you boys out here whenever you can be.”
“Oh, um, that’s very generous,” I stammer.
“Six weekends,” Keaton says cheerfully. “I’ll make sure Luke has the train schedule when he leaves tomorrow.”
“Good deal.” She yawns. “This summer has been sad. Nobody in that pool unless we throw a party. What a waste, right? I’ll just bump up our grocery order.” She gives our messy platter a wry look. “There’s pancake mix in the cabinet, Keaton, and bacon in the freezer. Night, boys. I need to get out of these shoes.”
Her footsteps click away, down the hall. And I’m left wondering what just happened. Does she not know? Nobody is that cool about their son’s male hookup.
“You should see your face right now.” Keaton shovels a giant heap of guacamole into his mouth and smiles at me.
“But…” I don’t even know where to start.
“Four things make her happy,” he says, ticking them off on his fingers. “My dad, me, spending money in fashionable places, and feeding people. Bonus points if Dad and I aren’t fighting and if we put our dishes in the dishwasher.”
I eye the platter, hoping it fits in the dishwasher. I’ll make it work.
“So you know you have to get on that train every Friday and come out here to stay.”
“Um…” I swallow. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” He drops his voice. “My parents go to parties one or two nights each weekend. All over the Hamptons. For hours.”
“Is that right?”
He grins. “We are going to have so much fun.”
After we clean up from our feast (and the platter is safely in the dishwasher) we get ready for bed in Keaton’s private bathroom. His parents have their own wing, thank God.
“I’m dating the boss’s son,” I joke as we climb into his king-sized bed. “Do you think that will be bad for my career in pharmaceuticals?”
Keaton makes an irritable noise and pulls me closer. “I’m dating the frat president. Think that will get me a better lottery number in the room draw?”
“Hey now. I can’t play favorites.”
“I know that, you stickler.” He laughs. “There’s something I have to tell you about the room draw, anyway. We’re down a resident.”
“What? Who?”
He clears his throat. “I got a text from Judd yesterday. He asked why I hadn’t invited him to the beach barbecue this year.”
I roll over and look at Keaton. It’s dark, but I can still see the outline of his smile. “What did you say?”
“I told him it was because I’d invited you, and I didn’t think he’d want to come. But I also said, ‘Feel free to convince me I’m wrong. We could all hit some gay bars after the barbecue.’”
A bark of laughter escapes my throat. “You didn’t.”
“I did. Not that I even know where to find the gay bars. But he doesn’t get to push me around. I just wanted to make that clear.”
“What did he reply?”
“He didn’t answer my text at all. And then a half hour later he sent an email to Munsen.”
“Our new secretary.”
“Yup. And I was CC’d. Judd said to skip him in the housing draw, because he was going to rent an apartment off-campus. He added that he didn’t like the vibe of the house anymore.”
I make a grumpy noise. “And he made sure you saw this, just to be a dick and make you feel bad.”
“Yup!”
“Did it work?” I ask.
Slowly, Keaton shakes his head. “Good riddance. And since he’s the worst of the lot, I’m kind of relieved. I don’t have to listen to his snarky bullshit in the fall when we go back to school together, and we don’t bother hiding our relationship.”
I wait for that little flare of panic to hit me, but it doesn’t come. “Well, okay then.” I put my head down on the pillow. You can hear the ocean from Keaton’s bed. How cool is that? “You still can’t have a plum number in the room draw.” I smile in the dark.
“Don’t want one. I was thinking of taking your old room.”
“Why?” I yelp. “Nobody wants that room.”
“Well, if you took my old one, we could share a floor again.”
“Oh,” I say slowly. That is a nice idea. Except for one thing. “You keep the bigger one. I don’t mind. I already know where all my stuff fits in there. We’ll sleep in your room, anyway.”
Keaton moves, covering me with his body. “You know I don’t care about room sizes, right?”
“Yeah. I got that.”
“This year is going to be great either way.”
“Sure is,” I whisper.
Another wave crashes onto the beach as I tug him closer for a kiss.
Thank you, readers!
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Also by Sarina Bowen & Elle Ke
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Don’t miss the Top Secret bonus epilogue!
Copyright © 2019 by Sarina Bowen and Elle Kennedy
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Editing by Edie Danford. Cover by Christine Coffey. Publicity by Nina Bocci.