Page 159 of In at the Deep End

He slipped his phone into his pocket. The dissertation would still be here.

Owen was waiting.

Matt stood on the side of the pool, drinking in the view.

Owen stood in the middle of it, water lapping his chest, his hair slicked back, beads of water glistening on his skin like diamonds. He beamed at Matt.

“You look like you need to cool off.”

Matt folded his arms. “You lured me here with the promise of coffee.”

Owen’s eyes glittered. “Yeah, about that… I lied. But you really do look hot. Too hot for coffee, anyway.” He reached under the surface to cup his bare shaft. “I have something else for you.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Has anyone ever told you you’re wicked?”

“Constantly. It’s my middle name, didn’t you know? Owen Wicked Lane.” Then he hit the water with his arm, sending a wave of it into the air⁠—

And over Matt’s shorts.

He glared. “You splashed me on purpose.”

“I did nothing of the sort.” Owen grinned as he waded towards the side and hoisted himself out of the pool. He stood next to Matt, shaking water droplets everywhere. “And you still look hot. In more ways than one.”

That was all the warning Matt got before Owen pushed him fully clothed into the pool.

Matt surfaced, spluttering, to find Owen was back in the water again, laughing.

“You bastard.”

“I believe the technical term is host.”

“You’re a terrible host.”

“And yet you keep coming back.”

Matt opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

Owen’s smile widened. “Exactly.” And then lips sought his as Owen slid his hands down to Matt’s arse, lifting him into his arms and carrying him towards the shallow end.

His mouth brushed Matt’s ear. “Your clothes will dry quickly out here. And if you can keep the noises down to a minimum, there’s lube in the pool house.”

Matt’s chest heaved. “You think of everything.” He locked lips with Owen in a fervent kiss.

A heartbeat later he was out of the pool, on a lounger, naked and damp, and Owen was using fingers and tongue to drive him out of his mind.

The best fucking summer ever.

“My parents are going to think I’ve moved in here permanently,” Matt remarked as he stirred the sauce Owen was creating for dinner.

“Are you here that often?”

He snorted. “Since the island visit, I’ve spent four evenings round here. So yes, I am.”

“I wasn’t counting.” Owen walked up behind him and slid his arms around Matt’s waist, nuzzling his neck the way Matt loved. “I notice more when you’re not here.”

Warmth flooded through him.

Then Owen let go and went back to chopping garlic.