Read Online WITHOUT YOU (STRIPPED) by Brooklyn Skye - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brooklyn Skye
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friends never picked up on the manic behavior?”
She shakes her head. “The girls she hung out with weren’t exactly her friends. They just wanted to jump on the popular-girl wagon.”
I smooth my hand over her hair and lower my voice, erasing any trace of sarcasm. “I was kind of expecting a cake, balloons, creepy clown sort of story.”
“I told you, she wasn’t a birthday cake kind of girl.”
Her words trail off to the wheeze and whine of an accordion. For a moment we watch the spikey-haired woman push and pull the ends of the instrument into a rhythm that matches the harmonica. A few minutes pass and the song comes to an end, summoning a dull applause from the sprinkle of bodies on the lawn.
“Maybe this should be the birthday you remember,” I say. Before she can spout a word I grab our cups, haul her off the blanket, and lead her back toward the pathway that swoops behind the library and in the direction of the gym.
“Babe.” She stops. “What about our stuff?”
“I doubt anyone’s going to steal an old backpack and empty champagne bottle. More help to me if they do, anyway, so I won’t have to come back for it.” I return her cup to her hand, tap the rim of mine to hers with the word “cheers,” then chug.
“Jesus, you’re crazy,” she mutters, but does the same. Blinking against the rush of bubbles, laughing, we toss our cups into the trash and continue up the path to the gym. I hold open the door to the gym and poke her hip as she enters. Even though the main door to the gym is unlocked, the one to the pool is not. I retrieve my keys from my pocket, locate the main key, and slip it into the lock.
Quinn’s hands are on me—lifting my shirt, skimming up my back—before the echo of the lock clicks into the door. As one, we enter the pool room and as soon as I have the door shut and locked, I turn into her, covering her mouth with mine.
With a gasp, her lips separate and I kiss her deeper, holding tight around her head so she can’t escape. Her hands slide my T-shirt further up my chest and, though it almost kills me, I pull away. Having sex with her in the school pool was not my intention. I take a breath and internally shake away the heat building in every part of my body.
“Let’s swim,” I say and remove my shirt. Quickly I slip out of my jeans, not paying attention to the smirk she directs at the bulge in my boxers.
“Here?”
“The door’s locked, there’re no windows and, besides, I doubt any staff member is going to be walking in when there’s a festival going on outside. I think we’re safe.” Then I take off and front flip into the six-foot deep Olympic-size pool. By the time I emerge, cool rivets of water trailing down the side of my face and neck, Quinn’s already standing in her purple thong and black bra with her flowered skirt and thin-strapped tank top resting at her feet.
Despite the temperature of the water, a hot rush darts to the lower half of my body. I’m not sure how I got to be with someone as stunning as her.
The corner of her mouth lifts deviously, and then she dashes across the rubber floor mats and dives into the pool with a squeal. Adjusting the slight twist in her bra as she breaks the surface of water, she says, “You’ve gone absolutely out of your mind. Can’t we get in trouble for this?”
I ignore her question. Swimming during closed hours isn’t grounds for another suspension. No doubt Coach would be pissed if we were caught in here, but at the moment Quinn’s happiness is more important than Coach’s.
Hooking my finger under the strap of her bra, I straighten the coiled material. “Name something you’ve never done before.”
“Uh, jump into a school pool with my underwear on?” Beneath the surface, her legs move in alternating circles to keep her afloat. Her body dips lower, water caressing her bottom lip, and I grip her waist then pull her to me. She straddles my torso, settling the warm spot between her
She shakes her head. “The girls she hung out with weren’t exactly her friends. They just wanted to jump on the popular-girl wagon.”
I smooth my hand over her hair and lower my voice, erasing any trace of sarcasm. “I was kind of expecting a cake, balloons, creepy clown sort of story.”
“I told you, she wasn’t a birthday cake kind of girl.”
Her words trail off to the wheeze and whine of an accordion. For a moment we watch the spikey-haired woman push and pull the ends of the instrument into a rhythm that matches the harmonica. A few minutes pass and the song comes to an end, summoning a dull applause from the sprinkle of bodies on the lawn.
“Maybe this should be the birthday you remember,” I say. Before she can spout a word I grab our cups, haul her off the blanket, and lead her back toward the pathway that swoops behind the library and in the direction of the gym.
“Babe.” She stops. “What about our stuff?”
“I doubt anyone’s going to steal an old backpack and empty champagne bottle. More help to me if they do, anyway, so I won’t have to come back for it.” I return her cup to her hand, tap the rim of mine to hers with the word “cheers,” then chug.
“Jesus, you’re crazy,” she mutters, but does the same. Blinking against the rush of bubbles, laughing, we toss our cups into the trash and continue up the path to the gym. I hold open the door to the gym and poke her hip as she enters. Even though the main door to the gym is unlocked, the one to the pool is not. I retrieve my keys from my pocket, locate the main key, and slip it into the lock.
Quinn’s hands are on me—lifting my shirt, skimming up my back—before the echo of the lock clicks into the door. As one, we enter the pool room and as soon as I have the door shut and locked, I turn into her, covering her mouth with mine.
With a gasp, her lips separate and I kiss her deeper, holding tight around her head so she can’t escape. Her hands slide my T-shirt further up my chest and, though it almost kills me, I pull away. Having sex with her in the school pool was not my intention. I take a breath and internally shake away the heat building in every part of my body.
“Let’s swim,” I say and remove my shirt. Quickly I slip out of my jeans, not paying attention to the smirk she directs at the bulge in my boxers.
“Here?”
“The door’s locked, there’re no windows and, besides, I doubt any staff member is going to be walking in when there’s a festival going on outside. I think we’re safe.” Then I take off and front flip into the six-foot deep Olympic-size pool. By the time I emerge, cool rivets of water trailing down the side of my face and neck, Quinn’s already standing in her purple thong and black bra with her flowered skirt and thin-strapped tank top resting at her feet.
Despite the temperature of the water, a hot rush darts to the lower half of my body. I’m not sure how I got to be with someone as stunning as her.
The corner of her mouth lifts deviously, and then she dashes across the rubber floor mats and dives into the pool with a squeal. Adjusting the slight twist in her bra as she breaks the surface of water, she says, “You’ve gone absolutely out of your mind. Can’t we get in trouble for this?”
I ignore her question. Swimming during closed hours isn’t grounds for another suspension. No doubt Coach would be pissed if we were caught in here, but at the moment Quinn’s happiness is more important than Coach’s.
Hooking my finger under the strap of her bra, I straighten the coiled material. “Name something you’ve never done before.”
“Uh, jump into a school pool with my underwear on?” Beneath the surface, her legs move in alternating circles to keep her afloat. Her body dips lower, water caressing her bottom lip, and I grip her waist then pull her to me. She straddles my torso, settling the warm spot between her
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