King of Hawthorne Prep Read online

  He pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his boardshorts and clicks the locks on a sleek silver Range Rover. “Why don’t you hop in the car and I’ll run inside and grab my shoes.”

  I nod as he trots up the wide porch steps and slips inside the glass front door. By the time I’m settled on the leather seat, he’s jogging toward the SUV. I glance at the house and realize it’s even more impressive than it looked from the rear.

  Maybe Kingsley is an actual King.

  The thought brings a smile to my face.

  A moment later, he slides in next to me and the engine purrs to life. We pull out of the circular drive and head north. My gaze flits from the lush green landscape beyond the passenger side window that whizzes by to the handsome boy sitting to my left. It’s difficult to fathom that an hour ago, I was pretending not to look for him and now, we have plans to spend the day together on his boat.

  “Exactly where are we headed?” That’s probably a question I should have asked before locking myself inside the vehicle with him.

  He shoots me a quick glance before focusing on the ribbon of black pavement stretched out before him. “The boat is docked at the marina. It’s about a ten-minute drive from here.”

  My guess is that he’s talking about the swanky country club where there are boat slips available to its members for an astronomical fee. Less than ten minutes later, we pull into the parking lot. Pristine yachts and speed boats are anchored at the slips. Seagulls float overhead, squawking in the cloudless sky as they search for food. It’s the perfect day to be out on the water.

  We exit the Range Rover and Kingsley heads to the trunk before popping it open and grabbing an olive-green colored cooler from the back. Once he slams it shut, we walk through the gravel parking lot to the pier.

  Kingsley points to a massive speed boat. “That’s mine.”

  Holy crap...can you say ginormous?

  “Oh, good. I was afraid it might be tiny.” I give him a bit of side eye before adding, “That would be really embarrassing for you.”

  He snorts as his hand settles on the small of my back. The heat of his palm burns a hole through my coverup and singes my flesh. “I assure you, nothing about me is tiny.”

  I burst out laughing. “Did you seriously just say that?”

  His shoulders shake as he chuckles. “Guilty.”

  “Well,” I say primly, squashing the humor from my voice, “I won’t be finding that out for myself. And if that’s a problem, you should take me home right now.”

  “Hey,” he says with an easy shrug, “you’re the one who brought up size.”

  “Of your boat,” I add as the gentle breeze off the water blows the loose hair away from my face.

  “Noted.” Even though his eyes are shaded by a pair of aviators, I imagine they’re dancing with mischief. “Should we proceed?”

  My feet slow as I arch a brow. “Can I trust you not to bring up the size of your vessel again? That was super uncomfortable.”

  His lips twitch as he removes his hand from my back and lays it over his heart. “You have my promise. There will be no more talk about vessel size.”

  “Then I’ll continue with our voyage,” I say in a magnanimous tone.

  “Excellent.” He dips his head in acknowledgment. “You’ve made the crew very happy.”

  We both grin before traversing the pier to where the glossy boat waits. The closer we get, the more impressed I become. I don’t know anything about boats, but even I can tell this one costs a shit ton of money. Probably as much as our house in Chicago, which is a crazy thought.

  With athletic grace, he jumps onto the wooden platform at the back before reaching out his hand for me to take hold of. My heart skips a beat as I make the leap with his assistance.

  I guess we can safely add gentleman to the growing list of attributes.

  Kingsley shimmies past a seating arrangement to the steering console before setting down the Yeti cooler. I follow behind him, taking the boat in as I do. The interior is clean and sparkling as if it’s brand spanking new. There’s a hard-top canopy over the steering console with a window to take in the view and a small white pad in the front that has a railing wrapped around it. As Kingsley moves through the preparations of getting the craft in operating order, I settle on the curved seating arrangement at the back of the boat and observe him. I’m not going to lie, it’s seriously sexy watching him check fluids and flip switches. The process is obviously a familiar one, because his movements are precise and economical. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

  Before we’re able to take off from the dock, he jumps off the boat and unties the heavy ropes that anchor the vessel in place before settling on the leather chair at the controls. The motor hums to life as he checks his surroundings and carefully navigates the boat out of the harbor.

  The further we get from shore, the more wind picks up, blowing through my hair as we fly over the waves. I reach into my bag and grab a rubber band, pulling my long hair into a topknot so it’s not in my face. As Kingsley accelerates, I watch the shoreline grow distant before my gaze shifts to the boy manning the helm. Mirrored sunglasses shade his eyes as the wind whips through his short dark hair. Today he’s wearing a navy-colored T-shirt that clings to his chest and biceps along with plaid boardshorts that reach the top of his knees. My girly parts twitch in male appreciation.

  He’s kind of perfect.

  Actually, there’s no kind of about it. And from our limited conversation, it’s safe to say that he gets my quirky sense of humor. Other than my twin brother, Austin, not everyone does. So he definitely gets points for that.

  After about fifteen minutes, Kingsley cuts the engine and drops the anchor. I glance around. It’s like we’re in the middle of nowhere. He pulls off his aviators, dropping them in a cup holder on the side of the steering column before yanking the soft cotton T-shirt over his head and tossing it to the leather chair.

  “Want to go for a swim?”

  “Sure.” I straighten to my full height, which is at least eight inches shorter than him. I’m five foot seven, so he has to be well over six feet. I slip my sunglasses into the canvas bag before stripping off the mesh coverup and removing my sandals. The rhythmic rocking beneath my feet takes some getting used to. I grip the edge of the chair so I don’t take a tumble.

  This morning, I’d decided on a light blue bikini. The bottoms are tiny but settle high on my hips and the top is more like a strip with thin arm straps that hold everything safely in place.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “Yup.” I follow him to the wooden platform at the back before we step to the edge.

  As waves lap at the boat, a bolt of fear arrows through me. Kingsley slips my hand into his larger one before giving it a gentle squeeze. A zing of electricity shoots through my fingertips. I glance at him to see if he’s noticed the strange burst of energy. His gaze searches mine for a moment before his lips quirk. With our hands enclosed, he squats, preparing to jump.

  A spurt of nerves flutter at the bottom of my belly. “Wait!”

  He pauses, slowly straightening to his full height. “What’s wrong?”

  “Ummm.” I glance at the water. It’s so much darker out here than at the shore. Exactly how deep is Lake Michigan? I wrack my brain for the information but can’t come up with an answer. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “Safe?” His brows slide together. “Of course. We’re in open water.”

  Yeah, that’s part of the problem. I always feel better when my feet can touch the bottom. That’s not possible here.

  “Do you think there are a lot of fish this deep?”

  He tilts his head and says carefully, “I’m sure there are a few.”

  My face scrunches. “You think they’re big?”

  “I’m not sure. I read somewhere that freshwater salmon can grow anywhere from fifteen to thirty pounds.”

  Holy shit! That’s not the answer I was looking for.

  “That’s huge.” Not to mentio
n scary. When I swim at the beach, I never worry about that. Half the time, I don’t wade out past my waist. And if I see a few fish, they’re small. No bigger than my palm.

  When he tugs my fingers, my gaze snaps to his. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  His words leave my heart spasming. “Promise?”

  “I promise.” His eyes search mine for a long moment and something indescribable passes between us. “You’re safe with me.”

  I gnaw my bottom lip with indecision. I only met this guy yesterday, and already it feels like we’re doing one of those horrendous trust building exercises. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, I trust him to protect me. How crazy is that?

  “All right,” I finally mumble, reluctantly giving in.

  “If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to stay in the water. Okay?” He waits a beat. “Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”

  I blow out a steady breath, his reassuring words making me feel marginally better.

  “You ready to do this?”

  I jerk my head into a tight nod.

  “One, two, three!” he yells.

  With our hands tightly clasped, we jump off the edge of the swim platform before sliding beneath the surface and sinking into the cold depths of Lake Michigan. My warmed skin goes into shock as frigid water surrounds my body. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes tightly shut before untangling my fingers from his and propelling myself to the surface with a flutter of arms and legs. When the bright sunlight hits my face, I suck in a deep breath as my eyes pop open. I glance around frantically only to find Kingsley bobbing beside me with a grin.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  I shake my head. No, it was actually kind of fun.

  Waves lap at my chin as I tread water. We’re about five feet from the boat and there’s a ladder hanging off the end in case a hasty exit becomes necessary. Now that my body has gotten used to the coldness that surrounds me, it feels refreshing. I take a few exploratory strokes with my arms. Kingsley keeps pace with me as we circle around the perimeter of the boat.

  As I start to relax and enjoy myself, something smooth slides along my leg. I yelp, dog paddling toward him before throwing my arms around his neck and locking my legs at his waist.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, laughter simmering in his deep voice.

  My head swivels, peering into the water as if I’m able to see down to the bottom. “Something brushed up against me.”

  One of his hands goes to my backside as he presses me closer.

  “Are you sure,” he whispers against the shell of my ear.

  My arms tighten around his neck as I frown. “I don’t know.” Whatever it was scared the hell out of me.

  After a few silent moments tick by and the Lake Michigan equivalent of Jaws doesn’t leap from the waves and drag us to a watery grave, I realize how intimately I’m pressed against the steely strength of his body. My muscles tense as a surge of arousal slams into me before settling in my core. This level of attraction isn’t something I’m familiar with. My gaze widens before fastening on to his heated one.

  “Sorry,” I murmur, unsure what to do next. I should probably untangle myself from him, right? It’s like he can read my thoughts as they flicker across my face and his grip tightens on me in response.

  “There’s no need to apologize.”

  As we bob on the waves, tension gradually leaks from my body. His fingers splay wide on my bottom as he draws me closer.

  Mmmm. That feels so good.

  I keep the groan locked deep inside as I rest my chin on his shoulder while he kneads my behind.

  Holy moly. Has anything ever felt this good?

  We stay locked together, the heat of our bodies warming us in the chilled water. He’s barely touched me and already arousal is wrecking havoc on my system. All of my senses feel heightened with awareness.

  Kingsley shifts his lower body away from mine before clearing his throat. “You ready to get out. I packed us a lunch.”

  Hmmm. Lunch does sound good but staying here in the water with him sounds even better.

  Although, I can’t really say that, now can I? “Sure.”

  Funny how I was so reluctant to get in the water.

  And now?

  I’m even more reluctant to leave.

  Chapter Three

  With no other choice but to untangle myself from Kingsley, I swim toward the metal ladder hanging off the edge of the boat. My fingers cling to the handles as I hoist myself from the water while he waits. Goose bumps break out across my skin as a thick tension permeates the air.

  Needing to break the energy that hums dangerously between us, I pause midway up the ladder. “You really need to stop checking out my booty.”

  Even though he chuckles, the sound is deep and low as if he’s battling the same kind of arousal as I am. “How do you know that’s what I’m doing?”

  I peer over my shoulder before giving him a wink. “Because you’re a dude.”

  “You got me there,” he says, voice simmering with humor. “I wanted to get a good look at what I’d been squeezing in my hands.”

  The admittance sends an avalanche of tremors sliding through my body.

  “In all fairness,” he continues as if we’re discussing something as mundane as the weather, “it’s a nice booty.”

  Warmth that has nothing to do with the sun fills me. “Thanks, I do a lot of squats and follow Kim Kardashian religiously. She’s my booty guru.”

  He chokes on a laugh. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  Once on the deck, I pad over to my bag and grab my coral and black floral-colored towel before wrapping it tightly around my body, shielding my skin from the sun and his view. Walking back from all this flirting seems like a smart idea. The attraction between us feels dangerously close to spiraling out of control and I’m not ready for that to happen.

  “Good,” I say, lightening my tone, “that was a test, and you passed with flying colors.”

  Kingsley snorts before moving past me. His chilled flesh brushing against mine as he drops to his haunches to grab a navy-colored towel from the cabinet beneath the bench seat. He pops up before pressing the plush material to his face and rubbing his hair.

  With unhurried movements, he strokes it over perfect pectorals and six-pack abs. His dark gaze stays pinned to mine as I watch with undisguised interest. A flash of heat streaks to my lower belly before exploding like a firework. Any desire I had stomped out moments earlier flares back to life with a vengeance.

  Good Lord, he’s sexy.

  I’m slightly disappointed when he finishes up before tossing the towel over a chair to dry in the sun. Another quick dip off the back of the boat seems to be in order. Although, it’s doubtful it would do anything to cool me off. The feel of his hands squeezing my ass has been singed into my mind for all eternity. Already I know that once I return to Chicago, I’ll take this memory out and relive it a million times.

  Kingsley grabs the cooler and brings it to the front of the boat where there’s a flat, padded area that’s perfect for a picnic. I unwind the towel wrapped around me and place it on the deck before sitting down next to him. The boat sways gently beneath us as he unloads the Yeti.

  “They call this the bunny pad,” he says conversationally.

  Seems like an odd name. “Do you entertain a lot of bunnies here?”

  We both know what I’m asking without voicing the question. My guess is that he does.

  His gaze pins mine in place. “Not as many as you might suspect.”

  “Good to know.” I glance away, breaking eye contact to stare at the white-capped waves. There’s something infinitely calming about being on the water.

  He clears his throat and changes the subject. “I packed sandwiches, chips, a couple of oranges, and a few bottles of water.”

  This guy knows how to do a picnic lunch up right.

  Now that I’m staring at all this food spread out between us, my belly gro
wls and I realize how famished I am. For breakfast this morning, I had wolfed down a protein bar. I think we all know that I was more interested in getting my ass to the beach and waiting for Kingsley to make an appearance.

  “Wow, thanks! This looks amazing,” I say with appreciation.

  We dig in, eating our turkey and cheddar sandwiches first. He plows through two of them. The guy has a big appetite. But I’m used to that because my brother is the same way. Mom can’t keep food in the house because he’s like a human garbage disposal. It doesn’t take long for us to demolish our meal.

  With a full belly and the scorching sun blazing down on us, I grow drowsy. Kingsley packs up the Yeti and takes the cooler back to the covered part of the boat before returning with his towel. He spreads it out next to mine before dropping beside me.

  When his fingers tangle loosely with mine, I glance at him, unable to stop the flutter in my belly and the smile of contentment as it curves my lips.

  So far, this has been the best day.

  He squeezes my fingers and I turn my face toward the sun, allowing my eyelids to close. The rhythmic rocking of the boat makes it easy to doze off. When I wake, my skin feels hot. I stretch and realize that my fingers are still entwined with Kingsley’s larger ones. I prop myself up on my elbows as the haze clouding my mind clears.

  Sunscreen. I should probably slather more on. My skin is fair, the last thing I want is to get burned. As reluctant as I am to break contact, I gently attempt to pry my fingers from his. When I do, Kingsley’s grip tightens. Unable to help myself, my gaze roams greedily over his prone body. He’s all tightly honed strength. Stretched out on the towel, his muscles standout in sharp relief against sun-kissed skin. Another swift punch of arousal hits me.

  “I need sunscreen,” I whisper, mouth going dry. With his mirrored aviators covering his eyes, I’m not sure if he’s awake or not.

  With a soft grunt, he releases my fingers and the connection between us is broken. I rise unsteadily to my feet, walking to the enclosed part of the boat and rummaging through my bag for the spray bottle. As I pull it from the bottom, I can already tell it’s empty. I dig around some more, shifting things, hoping I brought another. Usually I dump a few in for just this kind of occasion. As I’m about to give up, my fingers wrap around a small squeeze bottle.