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Chapters (47)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraphs
  5. Prologue
  6. Part One
  7. ONE
  8. TWO
  9. THREE
  10. FOUR
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. Part Two
  25. EIGHTEEN
  26. NINETEEN
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. THIRTY
  38. THIRTY-ONE
  39. THIRTY-TWO
  40. THIRTY-THREE
  41. THIRTY-FOUR
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. THIRTY-SEVEN
  45. Acknowledgments
  46. About the Author
  47. Newsletter Sign-up

Why not? She slipped off her shorts and rinsed them off, too. When she turned to look for Anthony she saw that he was gone, already halfway across the pond. When Anthony’s head slipped back under the liquid black water, she took off her underwear and ran in, completely naked.

Never had the cool liquid thickness of the kettle pond felt so erotic, like she was swimming through silk scarves. The heat and her nakedness made the water seem thicker, like it embraced her. She went deep and felt the temperature grow colder, then warmer again as she surfaced. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders.

Anthony quickened his crawl and swam toward her. He was a strong swimmer. When he got close enough he went underwater and circled her. She knew his eyes were open. She could feel him watching, the water clean and clear in the moonlight.

He surfaced and moaned. “Good Lord. You’re naked. Oh, Ann. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

Anthony put his arms around her from behind. His hands were on her breasts. She could feel his beard in the crook of her neck and the soft hair of his chest on her back. The water wasn’t deep. She leaned against him and put her feet down, shocked and grateful for the solidity of his body and the earth. Ann was turned on, but she was also scared and struck by the wrongness of what she was doing, a wrongness that was dulled by the alcohol. Was this even real?

She knew it was when he moved one hand down to her crotch and rubbed it with his fingers, slowly, deftly. Ann could tell this was a part of a woman’s body he knew well. Desire began to erode her fear. This was natural, right? It was what people did all the time. Half of her friends had already lost their virginity, and they lost it to dorks who didn’t know what they were doing. Anthony was a man. He had children. She was almost eighteen, after all. She was old enough.

She turned around and slid against him, pressing her mouth against his, delighting in the sensation of his soft whiskers against her face. Then his tongue darted into her mouth again. He tasted like garlic and wine, while Michael’s kiss—why was she thinking about Michael? He’d tasted sweet and fresh.