Page 126 of Made for Mayhem

Before she could say anything, I laid out my blankets on the little pebbly beach, then toed off my shoes, and dropped them on the edge of the blanket.

“What are you doing?” she asked, half laughing, half alarmed.

“Dares only, right Daisy?”

With a wink, I pulled my shirt off, then hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and let them fall, leaving me in nothing but my black boxer briefs. Cool air hit my thighs, tattoos on full display.

Daisy made a small noise—something between a gasp and a laugh—then upped the ante.

She peeled off her top and shorts, letting it pool at her feet. Next went her bra and underwear.

Naked. Gloriously, unapologetically naked.

The cool mountain air pebbled her nipples instantly, goosebumps racing across her skin, but she didn’t flinch. She lifted her chin, eyes locked on mine.

“If we’re doing this,” she said, voice low and daring, “we do it right.”

My mouth went dry. I shoved my boxers down, kicked them aside, and stepped toward her. I cupped her face, kissed her quick and hard, then hurried up the slope to grab the rope.

“Watch this.”

The air was chilly as I swung over the water, but it was nothing compared to what waited for me. I let go, plummeting into the icy depths, the shock stealing my breath. I surfaced with a gasp, treading water, grinning through chattering teeth.

“Your turn, sweetheart!”

My brave, strong Daisy didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the rope the same way I had, ran, and launched—a delighted shriek ripping from her throat as she flew. She hit the water with a splash, disappeared, then shot up sputtering.

“TY HUDSON, THIS IS FREEZING!” she yelled, hair plastered to her face, blue eyes wide with betrayal.

I laughed and swam over to her. “I forgot to mention that only teenagers are stupid enough to swim up here.”

She splashed me. “No fucking shit! I think my nipples just froze off.”

I grabbed her by the arm, pulling her chest to mine. “Well, we can’t have that. I guess I should warm you up, then.”

Her legs wrapped around my waist, arms looping my neck. She was shivering, but her mouth found mine, hot and demanding, and suddenly the cold didn’t matter.

We kissed like it could keep the rest of the world at bay—grief, fear, the weight of tomorrow. Her tongue slid against mine, teeth nipping, hands fisting in my hair. I groaned into her mouth, hands gripping her ass, holding her tight against me.

“Ty,” she gasped, pulling back just enough to breathe. “Shore. Now.”

I didn’t argue. I dragged her through the water, legs still locked around my waist, her slick skin sliding against my chest with every kick. The cold bit at my shoulders, but her heat—fuck, her heat—kept me grounded. My feet finally scraped the pebbled bottom, rocks shifting under my weight, and I hauled us both out of the water. Goosebumps raced across her arms, her thighs, but her eyes burned into mine, fierce and alive.

I carried her the last few steps to the shore, arms tight under her ass, and lowered her onto the blankets. The wool had soaked up the sun so it was a warm, soft cradle against her back. She sank into it with a shuddering sigh, hair fanning out in wet gold strands, nipples tight from the chill and want. I followed her down, covering her body with mine, skin on skin, my chest to her breasts, my thighs bracketing hers. The contrast was electric—her cool, wet curves against my furnace-hot skin, chasing every last shiver away.

She arched up, nails raking down my back in sharp, stinging lines that made me hiss. Her cold little hand found my hard cock, sliding down over the smooth skin until I could hardly breathe.

“Need you,” she breathed, voice raw, urgent, like the words were torn from her throat.

I didn’t make her wait. I slid into her slow—her heat gripping me like a lifeline, velvet and fire and home. She moaned, low and broken, legs wrapping around my waist, heels digging into the small of my back, urging me deeper. Every roll of my hips drew another sound from her, soft gasps that echoed off the water and sank into my bones.

“Faster,” she whispered, hips rising to meet me, desperate.

I gave it to her—hips snapping, the slap of wet skin on skin ringing out sharp and rhythmic, mingling with the rush of the waterfall. The blankets bunched beneath us, wool rough against my knees, but I didn’t care. She was everywhere—her scent, her taste, the clutch of her around me.

But still, I could tell she needed more. With a quick twist, I rolled us so she was on top, water dripping from her hair onto my chest as she straddled me. Her hands braced on my pecs, nails digging in, and she rode me hard and fast—head thrown back, breasts bouncing, thighs flexing.

She moved like she could outrun every shadow chasing her, every ghost whispering in her ear. I let her take what she needed—pleasure, distraction, me.