“Remember the time you filled that whole jar with fireflies?” Dad is asking, laughing as Susan prepares another round of s’mores for us.

I accept mine with a grin of thanks and roll my eyes at Dad. “I let them go right after.”

“Yes, but you insisted on catching at least fifty of the buggers first. Took half the night. It was worth it for the look on your face though, when you finally caught them all.”

“That was the night we had the Fourth of July bonfire, wasn’t it?” Josh butts in. “I remember that. When you let the jar go you released all the bugs in my face.” He nudges me with a knee.

We’re side-by-side on one of the few logs around our backyard firepit, marshmallow toasting sticks in hand. I tried to sit on the other side of the fire from him, but he followed me around and plopped down right next to me. It would’ve looked weird to move away again, so we’ve been stuck here ever since, me trying to avoid his more obvious touches.

I bite into my s’more now to avoid responding.

“You were so afraid of them,” Susan interrupts, sparing me. She’s snickering too. “They’re only fireflies, Josh.”

“The way they light up is creepy,” he protests.

I glance past him, out across the fields behind us. A few fireflies are out already, dotting the grass here and there. “You still scared of them?”

I swallow my bite of s’more and cast him a smirk.

“Of course not,” he scoffs. Over his shoulder, Susan winks and nods. Josh, on the other hand, is glaring at me. “You missed a spot,” he says, and I tilt my head in confusion, until he runs a fingertip along my cheek, scooping up some marshmallow goop that escaped my s’more. We lock eyes as he slowly slides his finger into his mouth and licks it clean.

I swallow again, louder this time. Glance past him. But our parents are deep in conversation again, this time about their children’s respective phobias.

“Pau can’t stand werewolves,” Dad is saying, and Susan bursts into laughter.

“What?”

“Seriously, any horror movies that involve them, even big dogs…”

“Dad,” I groan.

Josh wraps an arm around my shoulders and jostles me slightly. “Don’t worry, Pau. I’ll protect you from the big bad wolf.”

I groan and bury my head in my arms. Mostly to avoid giving anything away, because damn, my whole body feels like it’s on fire right now, the way he’s touching me. So easy and self-assured. Almost possessive. Like he already knows he has me right where he wants me.

But he doesn’t.

He can’t.

When I straighten again, Josh lets his arm drop. But he still casts me a sideways grin, a knowing smile, like we’re sharing a secret.

We are, I realize, remembering that kiss earlier, the hard press of his cock against my thigh, the way my belly tightened and my panties still feel a little damp now as I shift in my seat on this uncomfortable log.

We’re sharing a terrible, impossible, sinful-as-hell secret.

Suddenly, Josh stands up. Strides away without looking back. I frown after him, then catch my dad scowling at the fire.

Quick, change the subject.

“So Susan,” I say, then I pause, stutter. Realize I should probably call her something else now. But Mom sounds so wrong, so… fake. We all trade awkward glances. “I mean, er…”

“You can keep calling me Susan,” she says gently.

I grimace. Force a smile. “Sorry. I was just going to ask about your new job, if you’re moving back up here…”

Awkward moment narrowly dodged, we fall into easy conversation again. For a while, anyway, I’m able to forget about the sizzle in the air, the tension brewing, like the atmosphere before a lightning storm begins. All pent-up, charged energy that needs to release.

Josh comes back, but this time he sits on the other side of the fire, away from me. I should feel good about that. It should feel like relief, to not have to dodge his advances for a while. Instead, it makes my chest ache worse. Somehow, worse than his flirting, is not having him flirt with me.

But after half an hour of chitchat, Dad and Susan stand up and announce they’re heading to bed early.

“We’ll clean up,” Josh insists, and I’m stuck right back with him again, with that electricity pent up between us.

I jump up from my seat and start to collect the marshmallow bags and chocolate wrappers lying around the fire. I finish that, then return to help douse the fire, when Josh catches me. We both shoot sideways glances at the cabin, but the lights in the big cabin are dark now. There’s nobody else out here but us.

That has barely registered in my brain before he’s pulling me into his arms again, and our lips are colliding, and dammit, why can’t I resist him?

We stumble out of the fire circle, just far enough that the light from the dying embers won’t illuminate us. Then he pulls me down with him into the grass, and we collapse in a tumble of limbs, too busy kissing to notice how we’re sprawled together until we stop rolling. He’s lying on top of me, his body hard everywhere I’m soft, the contrast so right and so wrong at the same time. Wrong because it makes me want more. I want to rip off his shirt, feel his smooth skin against mine. Run my hands over every inch of his perfect, sculpted body. Let him explore me in turn, let him touch me and take me and claim me. I want his hands on my breasts, my stomach, my ass. I want him to spread my legs and slide his thick, strong fingers between my legs. I want him to part my pussy lips and explore me one inch at a time, take it so slowly that I think I’ll explode before he finally lets me come.

Thinking about all of that, I arch up against him, and spread my legs as he slides between my thighs, the thick length of his cock hard again already, digging into my inner thigh. I groan into our kiss, and his tongue slides between my lips, claims my mouth for his own.

I gasp again and pull back, just far enough to break that kiss. “Josh, stop.”

He pauses, a frown creasing his forehead. In the moonlight, he looks like the boy I kissed six years ago. He looks like that boy, but also like a stranger. A man I don’t know at all. A man I want to know, in every sense of the word.

“What’s wrong?” he murmurs.

“We can’t do this. You know we can’t.”

He tilts his head to one side. Searches my gaze. “Because our parents are married?”

“Of course,” I hiss, so low and loud that he leans back a little, laughs in spite of himself.

“Pau. It’s not like we’re really related.”

“So?!” I shake my head so hard that his eyes widen. I lower my voice again, nervous that our parents might wake up and peer out the window. It’s dark enough, and the fire has dimmed enough that I don’t think they’ll be able to see this far out from the cabin. Probably. But I’d rather not chance it. “Josh, for all intents and purposes, we’re brother and sister now. We can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

But my hands are speaking a different story. Even as I protest, they’re still wrapped around his neck. My fingers slide through his hair, trace the back of his neck.

“Paulina.” The sound of my full name makes me tense again. I want to hear him say that in different circumstances. I want to hear him scream it as he spreads my legs and drives his thick cock into me…

No. I shake my head.

He cups my cheek and leans in to feather kisses along my jawline. Trail his lips down the side of my neck. “What’s really going on?” he whispers into the crook of my neck. “Clearly you want to do this as much as I do. What’s the real problem?”

His other hand trails down my chest, his fingers tracing the edges of my breasts. Even through my bra, I can feel my nipples begin to harden at his touch.

“Exactly what I said it is,” I murmur, unable to stop myself from squirming under him.

“You don’t want this?” He pauses, and for a second I could swear there’s something almost like hurt in his eyes.

“Of course I do,” I say automatically, before I even think about it. Before I realize that’s exactly the wrong thing to say. He grins and leans in to kiss me again, but I turn my head. Let him trail those kisses along my neck instead, while my traitorous body reacts to him anyway, pulls him closer, digs my nails in deeper.

It takes every ounce of willpower to twist away from him. Especially when he’s gazing at me like he wants to devour me, pull me back to him and touch every inch of me until we’re both begging for more.

“But we can’t. If Dad sees us, if he catches me… He’ll be so upset. I can’t hurt him like that. He wouldn’t understand.”

Josh sits back. Watches me carefully, eyes searching in that way he has, like he sees straight through me. “Wouldn’t understand what, exactly?”

I swallow hard. “Understand… That I want to fuck my brand-spanking-new brother.”

He laughs and lets his hand trace a path from my hips along my side, then around. Down the curve of my back, until his palm cups my ass. “Are you trying to say you want to be spanked?” He smirks.

My breath hitches in my throat, betraying me. I feel myself leaning forward, into his orbit, unable to stop myself. “I…” I shut my eyes. Dammit. I know what I need to do. Stand up right now. Run back to the house. Lock myself in my bedroom and try to ignore everything I’m feeling.

Maybe touch myself, pretend my fingers are his, finger my clit until I come, picturing Josh going down on me all the while…

But whatever I do, it shouldn’t be this. I shouldn’t tilt my face to meet his, let my lips part as he bends down, his mouth a whisper away from mine, so close I catch the scent of his breath, peppermint-fresh, and underneath that, the scent that’s been driving me crazy all day—pure Josh.

“I won’t let anyone catch us,” he whispers. He slides his hand along my ass. Squeezes tightly. I arch against him, instinctive, and my hips collide with his. His cock feels harder than ever, thick against my leg, and I let my hands trace down his chest, feeling the lines of his muscles through his thin T-shirt, inching closer and closer to the bulge in his jeans.

“If nobody catches us, there’s no harm,” he murmurs into my neck as he feathers more kisses along my skin. His mouth is hot, burning, branding. I turn toward him and our lips collide again, possessive, sudden. I melt into him, and let my body mold to his.

His hands slide around to my front, undo the clasp of my jeans. Without realizing, I mirror him, doing the same. Undoing his pants, pushing them down as he pushes mine down, groaning as his fingers brush the bare skin of my hips, my thighs, tracing the edges of my panties.

He looks me straight in the eye, leans in to kiss me again, harder this time. Hungry. “I want you, Paulina,” he murmurs against my mouth. Right before he catches my lower lip between his teeth, bites down gently.

I glance over his shoulder. Up toward the cabins.

I know I shouldn’t. I know that, but that’s only my brain speaking, and right now, my brain is not in control.

“I want to fuck you.” Josh nips along my jaw, sucks my earlobe into his mouth and traces his tongue along my lobe. At the same time, his fingers slide beneath my panties for the first time. Trace over my mound, along the edges of my legs. Around my pussy, but not quite touching me. Not yet. “I want to feel my cock inside your hot, wet pussy.” Only then does he spread my lips. Trace one finger slowly my slit and around the edges of me. He grins, and I can feel that grin against my cheek, his stubble sharp on my skin, sending a shiver down my spine and into my belly. “You’re wet for me, aren’t you Pau?”

In response, I spread my legs and arch toward his finger. Let him press between my lips and feel the slick juices around my pussy. He swirls his finger through them, and I moan, my voice low and throaty. “Fuck. Josh.”

He leans back to smirk down at me. The moonlight catches his eyes, makes the mischief in them spark. “Was that a request?”

“I want you to fuck me,” I whisper. I reach down to slip one hand below the waistband of his boxers. Trace the outline of his cock. He’s thicker than I imagined. I run my finger along his length, savor the way he shudders against me as I measure him. Fuck, he’s huge. Will I be able to take him?

I want to try.

“I want your cock inside me,” I murmur into his neck, my lips on his hot skin, insatiable. I can’t get enough of him. Of the way he tastes, the way he smells. “I want to feel you take me, fuck me, Josh.”

He grins down at me. “Impatient, Pau.” He flattens his palm against my stomach. Slowly inches it downward, taking my panties down. He slides them down to my knees, then spreads my legs, while I try to push his boxers off too. He grabs my wrists and gently pins my hands to the grass on either side of me, smirking. “Wait your turn,” he whispers.

Then he bends to kiss my stomach. He lets his tongue dip into my belly button for a moment, trails it along my hips. Pushes my knees farther apart, and licks along the crease where my thighs meet my hips, first one, then the other. Slow and torturous, teasing. He releases my wrists, and I run my hands through his hair. Gently untangle the knots I find, scratch my nails across his scalp. Then his tongue reaches my pussy, and he flicks it across my clit once, quick and hard. I tighten my grip, dig my fingers into his hair.

He peers up at me, that smile still on his face. “You taste as amazing as I always imagined,” he murmurs. Before I can ask what he means by that, he pushes his tongue between my lips, delves into my pussy. I gasp and let my head fall back, the grass is damp and cool, a sharp contrast to his hot mouth.

He licks me in slow, strong strokes, along my slit, pushing into my pussy between every lick. Every now and then he slides up to flick his tongue across my clit again, and every time it sends a jolt of electricity throughout my body. I tense and jump against him, until finally he laughs and presses his whole mouth over my mound and clit. His tongue collides with my clit directly now, as he sucks on it, licks it hard and fast, his tongue drawing me straight to the brink of an orgasm, faster than I can fathom. It makes my head spin, my whole body swim.

My mouth parts in a silent cry as the orgasm hits, and I arch my hips up into his mouth, dig my hands into his hair as he keeps licking at me, my whole body shaking from the force of the orgasm. When the peak finally starts to settle, I look down to find Josh grinning up at me, sliding along my body until we’re nose-to-nose again. This time I pull him down into a kiss, part my mouth to taste his tongue, catching the taste of myself mingled with his mouth, his scent, and it’s hot as hell.

He pulls away just far enough to push my hair back from my eyes, gaze down at me with something like a wondering smile on his mouth. “God you taste so fucking good.” He smirks and kisses me again to emphasize that point, and I lose myself in him again. I run my hands down his back, explore his body. “I want every inch of you, Paulina.”

“Then take it,” I whisper. But I want more of him, too—I want his skin against mine, nothing between us. I pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside, pull him back down onto me, even as I tug at his boxers with my free hand.

He pauses to yank my panties the rest of the way off. Then he takes his time running his hands up my thighs, over my hips, along my body as he pulls my shirt off as well. “God, you are perfect,” he murmurs, as he dips to kiss my clavicle, run his tongue along my collarbone.

“Fuck, Josh.” Finally, we’re skin-to-skin, his body red-hot against mine.

I trace the muscles of his back. Bring my hands around to feel his pecs, his washboard abs, run my fingers along the V that leads to his cock. I take my time before I finally make my way there, thick and erect between us. When I do wrap both hands around him, I marvel at the feel of him. His velvety-soft skin over his hard shaft, so thick that my hands barely fit around him. I slide my hands up to his tip, circle a thumb over it and catch a bead of precum there, as his eyes flutter closed and his mouth parts in a faint groan.

“That’s it, Pau. Right there,” he whispers against my lips.

I kiss him, and tighten my grip on his cock. Start to rock against him in a slow rhythm as I stroke him. He grits his teeth, and I grin, enjoying the effect I have on him. “You feel so fucking good,” I murmur.

He reaches between us to catch my wrists. Pulls my hands off of him, and draws my arms over my head. Holds them in the grass in one wrist while he runs his other hand along my side. “Careful.” He’s laughing as he meets my eyes again, licks my lips quickly. “You excite me a little too much, Pau. I want this to last…”

In one smooth motion, I wrap my legs around his waist. “Haven’t you teased me enough?”

“Never.” He runs his cock along my inner thigh, all the way up to my slit. Then he dances across my pussy lips, and trails along my other thigh instead. “Can you reach my jean pocket?” he asks, though I’m so distracted, it takes me a moment to realize he’s let go of my wrists again.

I pull his jeans over, fish in the back pocket and find a condom.

“Put it on me,” he says, eyes dark with desire, want. He watches me tear it open, his gaze never leaving mine, even as I unroll the the condom down his shaft.

“Tell me what you want,” he says as I wrap my legs around his waist, my task finished and my hands now free to do what they want—which is currently trail my nails down the length of his spine.

He arches against me, all muscle and heat, and my body curves into his in response.

“I want you to fuck me, Josh,” I whisper.

He grins and pauses, his lips a centimeter from mine, so close I feel them move against mine as he whispers back. “Tell me again.”

“Fuck me, Josh. Fuck me hard.”

He traces the head of his cock between my lips, along the length of my slit in slow back-and-forth motions, until he’s coated in my juices, and I’m panting with want. I can’t take it—I want him inside me. Need him, the way I’ve never needed anything before.

When he finally pushes the head of his cock into my pussy, I clench hard around him, tighten my legs around his waist, and grab his ass with both hands. I savor every inch as he slowly, slowly inches into me. He’s savoring it too, clearly, his eyes half-shut, mouth parted in a long, soft groan.

“Fuck, Paulina…” He meets my gaze again only once he’s fully inside me. My pussy aches from the size of him—I can feel him stretching me, filling me to the max, and I fucking love it. The ache, the swell, the sensation of Josh’s thick cock inside me at last. Just like I dreamed about for so many long hot nights after our first kiss. Our first kiss right here on this lakeshore.

This feels like coming full circle. Like returning to that night all those years ago, only a million times better now, because we’re both ready to take everything we want from one another.

“You feel so good,” I murmur. He laughs against my neck.

“You have no idea…” he replies. Then he pulls out of me, agonizingly slowly again, and it physically hurts not to have him inside me. But it only lasts a moment—then he’s thrusting his hips down again, inside me once more, and I arch up to meet him, matching his pace. Before I know it, we’re moving together, both of us growing faster, more desperate as our pace picks up.

He fucks me hard, drives into me, as I slam my hips up into his on every thrust. He grabs my arms again, pins them over my head in one hand, his other hand cupping my breast, his fingers circling my nipple as he continues to fuck me. At the same time, he trails his mouth along my neck, down my collarbone, kissing me, sucking at my skin, unable to leave me alone.

“I want every part of you,” he groans, and I thrust up against him in response.

“Take me, Josh. I’m yours.”

My head falls back against the grass as he keeps thrusting into me, faster, harder, until I lose track of anything but the feel of his body against mine, the hot slide of our skin, the tight grip of his hands. Pleasure starts to build deep in my belly, a rising tide of ecstasy that I won’t be able to hold back when it hits. I hook my ankles around him, grip his waist tight with my hips as I keep thrusting in time with him.

He locks eyes with me, and I savor the expression on his face—the lost look in his eyes, the spill of red-hot lust that takes over any of his common sense. Neither of us can spare a thought for the outside world now. We’re lost in each other, in this moment, in the sensation.

He angles his hips back, fucks me at an angle so that his cock drags along my front wall, his tip driving right along my G-spot with every thrust. It doesn’t take long for that to push me over the edge I was already climbing toward. I cry out faintly as the orgasm hits me, bowls me over. But he clamps his mouth to mine, swallows my cry with a kiss, and I shake beneath him, lost in the wave of pleasure as he keeps thrusting, harder now, faster, losing control as he nears his own peak.

“Fuck. Pau… I’m going to come. I can’t... Fuck you feel so fucking good.”

I do the same for him—pull him into a deep kiss as his orgasm hits. He slams into me one last time, deep inside me as he comes, and I kiss him so hard that his desperate groan won’t travel through the night air, won’t carry to any prying ears that might be listening. He moans into my mouth and I drink him in, our tongues entwined, as his cock spasms inside me. I tighten my pussy around him, and savor the jump of his cock, the proof of his pleasure.

When we finally draw apart, we’re both breathless, eyes alight with ecstasy. He rolls onto his side next to me, and I curl up against him, naked in the still-warm summer evening air, splayed across the grass.

“That was…” I can’t find the words to finish that sentence. I press a kiss to his chest instead, and run my hands across his abs to hug him against me instead.

“I know.” He laughs softly and plants a kiss on the top of my head. Angles himself down to kiss my temple, the corner of my mouth. Then he leans back, and for a long moment, we just watch the sky overhead. The stars, the millions of them that you can only see this far out in the countryside. Stars that I haven’t watched since that summer out here with him because I’m always busy, always in the city. I haven’t done this—just laid in the grass and watched the sky—since that summer all those years ago.

He must have read my mind, because after a long, quiet moment, he shifts beneath me and sighs. “This is nostalgic.”

“I know,” I agree. I turn to look at him, but he’s watching the stars now too, his face awash in moonlight. “Back then…” I ask. My voice falters, fails.

But he flashes a look at me, and I lick my lips. Find the courage to ask the question that’s been burning at the back of my mind ever since our walk to the grocery store earlier tonight, ever since he started flirting with me and I noticed.

“Did you want me like this back then?”

In the semi-dark, with only the moon and the stars for light, I can’t read the expression on his face. Can’t see the reflection in his eyes—they only look dark and bottomless out here in the night.

Then he sits up, and gently untangles my arms from around him. “We should go inside,” he murmurs. “Before someone sees us.”

He reaches past me for his shirt. Pulls it over his head, and then he’s up and getting dressed, before I can react.

I try not to let the hurt or confusion show. Try not to think about what it means, about why he dodged that question or why he refuses to talk about our past here. Instead, I just pull my shirt on, shimmy back into my jeans, and trail after him into our shared cabin, where he closes the door on his bedroom and leaves me standing alone in the tiny excuse for a living room wondering what on earth is going through his mind.