“Oh yeah, the thought of handling your tiny package really has me out of sorts.” Katie snickers as she turns toward Kenna, and they high-five.
They laugh together for a few more seconds before Katie goes back to serve again. This one comes over the net, and Carson’s serve-receive is spot-on.
Instead of setting him up like the girls are expecting I smash the ball off his pass. It spins down over the net, right at Kenna. Before she can put her arms out to react, the ball makes contact with her chest, hard.
Carson and I shout as we do our special handshake. I turn back around toward Kenna. “Want me to nuzzle that spot for you? Looks like that hit left a stinger.”
“Eyes up, asshole,” Kenna says as she glares at me—her competitiveness is such a turn-on. She throws Carson the ball but keeps her glare glued to me.
“Come on, that hit was a beauty. Don’t even act like it wasn’t. Did you see me take that on two?”
“I’ve done better and been hit by worse.” Kenna continues, “Besides, we both know your ego can’t handle any more inflation. I won’t give you the satisfaction.”
“Oh trust me, you could satisfy me just fine.”
Carson throws the ball at the back of my head and says, “Get your mind out of the gutter and head back in the game. It’s tied up, twenty-five all.”
He throws the ball up and jumps from the water as he serves the ball toward Katie. It’s a solid strategy, trying to throw them off their game. Katie is a setter, so when she has to receive the ball it means she either has to hit it, or get a good enough pass up to let Kenna hit it on the second touch like I did.
Katie’s pass is perfect, clearly unfazed by Carson’s serve. Kenna positions herself, biting her lip in concentration as she jumps out of the water for the hit.
I’m so distracted by her sinister mouth and her wet tits bouncing out of the water that I forget I’m supposed to block her hit. She makes solid contact and gets the kill to take the lead.
Jumping up and down to celebrate, her tits are taunting me. Thank god the water is hiding what’s going on below deck.
“Fuck if that’s fair.” I throw my hand up at her chest.
“What, did the girls distract you?” She feigns innocence, batting her lashes. She knows she’s affecting me. “I thought I was just Carson’s baby sister.”
Carson grimaces. “Jesus Mack, put a T-shirt on or something. I think one of them almost popped out. That’s the last thing I need to see.”
She catches the ball Carse throws to her and heads back to serve. “Twenty-six to twenty-five, match point.”
Kenna effortlessly tosses the ball up, makes contact, and the ball lurches over the net. Right at me. It has some sinister spin on it, the ball moves side to side before I can react. I barely get a hand on it as I shank it out of the pool. She aces me, and it’s game over.
Kenna and Katie jump up and down as they wrap their arms around each other. Carse and I line up at the net to shake their hands. We’ve been raised to be good sports.
The girls shake our hands, and I hold on to McKenna’s while I ask, “Are you going to Jackson’s tonight?”
“Of course we are,” she replies.
I watch as Katie and Carson get out of the pool before lowering my voice. “Tell me you’re planning on changing first,” I say before I realize the words are coming out of my mouth.Way to sound like a total douche, asshole.
Kenna looks genuinely thrown by my statement. She grips my hand a little tighter and replies, “Of course, I plan on changing. I plan on stripping down, taking a scalding-hot shower, and getting ready.”
My brows shoot up. Her answer not only surprises me but leads me to visualize Kenna in the shower. Hot. Soapy. Wet.Christ.
I’ve been half-hard since I set eyes on her an hour ago. I’m also going to need a long shower so I can work her out of my system before tonight.
Kenna interrupts my daydreaming when she says, “Not that it’s any of your business what I wear. I’m not your sister, and you’re not my keeper.”
“Trust me, baby girl, no need to remind me that you’re not my sister,” I reply with a wink.
“Good. Because I’m not sure whatever’s going on in your shorts right now would be very brotherly of you,” she mocks as she lets go of my hand and gets out of the pool seemingly unfazed by our conversation.
I watch her walk up the steps of the pool—jealous of the way the water trails down her perfect body—salivating at the way her hips sway as she walks over to her towel.
Who is this girl? Kenna and I have always been able to banter back and forth, but this feels different.
