T H E O G R A Y

THANK GOD for private pools.

The only place that feels remotely quiet at the moment. Still. Not like the chaos I just walked out of, or the one I've carried in my head since I was sixteen.

I stand at the edge, the air damp and faintly warm from the water's soft purple glow. I unbutton my shirt slowly, each pop of the button a tiny release of tension. I shrug it off, folding it neatly and placing it on the plastic chair behind me. My fingers move to my trousers next, undoing the belt, sliding the fabric down, and folding them too-placing them carefully on top of the shirt like I still have control over something. Anything.

I stare at the water for a beat.

Then I step in.

The warmth wraps around me instantly, but it's not comfort-it's not cold either. It's nothing. And maybe that's why I come here.

I sink down, chest-deep, my arms going under as I stare at the ripples I make just by existing.

Fucking breathe, Theo.

But it's hard. My lungs are tight. My jaw's still locked. The back of my throat tastes like metal. That's what it feels like every damn time he opens his mouth.

I knew he'd try something. That's why I asked for the pool earlier-just in case. A preemptive strike. Somewhere I could escape to if-when-he pulled his usual shit.

But I didn't think it'd happen so soon.

Didn't even make it past the damn greeting.

I press my palms together under the water, trying to steady my pulse. My head tips back, eyes closing as I let the quiet soak in. It's the only place I can let the weight fall off without anyone watching it happen.

No cameras. No fake smiles. No father dragging my name through the dirt because I chose a different path. Just water, walls, and the aching need to come up for air.

At least he didn't compare me to Miles this time.

That's a first.

Usually by now, I'd get the whole speech-"Look at your cousin, look how focused he is. That's a real son. That's someone who understands legacy."

And maybe that's why it used to burn. Because deep down, I always envied how Uncle had a son like that. Someone who was born to carry the family name on polished shoulders. Miles was passionate about business, hungry for it, built for it. He talked mergers like he talked football, had already mapped out five different plans for the company before he even finished undergrad. Now he's just counting down the days till his Master's is done and the company is his.

Meanwhile me?

My blood ran in the opposite direction. A rebel. The one who chose the ice over an office chair. Who picked bruises and blades and cold rinks and sweaty locker rooms over board meetings and tailored suits.

And that's all my father sees-rebellion. Not purpose. Not discipline. Not success on my own terms.

Just rebellion.

Fuck that.

I run a hand over my wet hair and sink deeper into the water, until my mouth barely stays above the surface. Breathe in. Breathe out.

A sudden vibration breaks the stillness. My phone, buzzing from where I dropped clothes.

It could be Soph.

Fuck.

She saw all of that.

She stood there-eyes probably widened and witnessed those shitty remarks, the jabs disguised as advice, the way he looked at me like I was something he could never be proud of.

She watched it happen.

Watching me take it. I couldn't even meet her eyes. I didn't want to see it-didn't want to see pity written across her face. Or worse... understanding. Like she got it. Like she felt bad for me.

Because pity is just another reminder that something's wrong with you.

The buzzing of my phone stops and then starts again.

Persistent.

But I ignore it, clenching my jaw as I hold my breath and slide lower into the water. It's not deep enough to disappear, not really, but I still try. I let my back stay afloat, arms spread, face submerged-eyes closed. The silence beneath the water muffles everything. The light hum of the pool filters, the pressure building behind my eyes, my own heartbeat thudding in my ears.

Here, everything feels slower.

Softer.

Far enough away.

It's the closest thing I have to peace.

I don't know how long I've been down here.

Could've been a minute. Could've been five. Long enough that my chest starts to tighten, long enough that my brain forgets how to do something as basic as breathe.

Then-through the water-muffled and distant-I hear Sophie's voice and she's calling my name.

I exhale hard, bubbles rushing out as I push myself upright. The world comes back fast-harsh lights, the sting of chlorine, the thud of my heartbeat in my ears. I rub the water from my face, blinking fast, my vision adjusting-and there she is.

Standing at the edge of the pool.

I stare at her like she's not real. Like I might've imagined her voice underwater and somehow conjured her out of guilt or shame.

How the hell did she even find me?

I expected pity in her eyes. That gut-wrenching look people give when they don't know what to say-when they feel bad for you but can't relate.

But there's none of that.

Just worry.

She worries for me.

"Hey." She says quietly, giving me a soft smile.

A smile she's rarely shows me but now she does.

"How..." I start, but the words stick like glue to the back of my throat.

"Miles," she says, stepping a little closer to the edge of the pool. "He asked the receptionist if you were in any nearby pools."

Of course he did.

She looks around now, eyes wide as she takes in the view-the way the soft lights hit the water, the silence wrapping around us like a blanket, the mountains in the distance almost painted in moonlight. Her lips part slightly in awe. "You picked a pretty one."

I guess I did.

Not sure if she's talking about the pool... or herself. Either way, she's not wrong.

She holds something up between her fingers. The suit. My suit-the one I threw to the damn ground like it personally offended me.

"I came to give you this," she says, stepping closer and gently placing it on the chair next to my folded shirt and pants. Her eyes flick across my chest-just for a second-and I catch her eyes doing a quick, accidental sweep before she glances away.

"The suit didn't deserve such harshness, don't you think?"

I let out a low chuckle. I honestly didn't know I still had one in me.

But with her... I guess anything's possible.

She smooths the fabric down, more like a distraction than anything, then turns back to me. She lingers.

Fidgety. Uncertain.

"So, um... I guess I should leave you now. Right? Or..." she bites her bottom lip, a nervous habit I've seen too many times,"...or would you want me to stay?"

I don't say anything.

I just stare at her.

At the way the reflections from the water flicker across her face like soft light from a movie screen. It makes her look brighter. Like she doesn't belong here in this dim corner of my reality, and yet... here she is.

So fucking beautiful it knocks the air out of my lungs more than holding my breath ever could.

I guess I don't respond fast enough-too busy trying to figure out if I'm dreaming-because she frowns and slowly steps back.

"Uh... I guess not," she mumbles, voice barely above a whisper. "Sorry for being a bother. I'll see you tomorrow morning, good night."

She turns to leave.

And something in me panics.

I move without thinking, water lapping softly as I swim a little closer, like my body knew what I wanted before my mind caught up.

"Stay."

She pauses, glancing over her shoulder, trying to make she heard me right.

"Please. Don't... don't go."

Her eyes meet mine.

And I don't even care if I sound desperate.

Because I am.

She turns fully now, and I have to mentally chain myself from letting my eyes drop too obviously to the curve of her hips.

God.

So fucking sexy.

And the worst part? I don't even think she knows it.

It's that effortless kind of sexy-the kind that sneaks up on you and punches you in the gut before you can breathe. I couldn't believe it when I saw her earlier in the corridor, walking in like some goddamn dream, soft curls bouncing with every step. I just wanted to talk to her. Just to see her for a second.

And somehow that second turned into one of the best parts of my whole night.

Now I'm here, barely holding it together.

I want to touch her. So badly.

It's getting painful-literally painful-the way my body responds to her, just standing there in that soft dress, eyes wide and curious.

"Okay then," she says slowly, giving a small nod. "Quick question... is the pool deep? It looks deep."

"Uh..." I glance down, though I already know the answer. "It's very shallow."

"So I can swim there... if I could swim, I mean?"

"Yes." I swallow hard. "If you could."

Is this going where I think it's going?

Because if it is-

Fuck yes. Please.

"Would you like to join me?" I ask, pulse pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears. Every second feels like it's stretching into years.

She tilts her head. "If you want-"

"Yes. I want."

I cut her off. Too fast. Too eager.

Don't care.

She draws in a breath, deep and slow, and-

"Okay," she says softly.

That single word nearly knocks the air out of me.
My body reacts before my brain can catch up-my cock half shifts slightly beneath the water, moving just enough for me to feel that low throb that always comes with her being too close... too willing.

God help me.

She steps a little closer to the edge of the pool, clutching the strap of her dress like she's second-guessing everything. Then she clears her throat.

"But you'll have to turn around first."

I raise a brow and smirk. "You do know I've seen you in your-"

"It was dark," she says quickly, cutting me off with narrowed eyes.

I chuckle and lift my hands in surrender. "Still saw," I say with a shrug, unable to resist teasing her.

She folds her arms with a glare that does absolutely nothing to stop the twist of heat crawling down my spine. "Turn or I'm leaving."

I shake my head and laugh. "So fucking bossy." I mutter under my breath as I face the other direction and wait.

My ears instantly stand on high alert.

Every little sound feels amplified-like my body's waiting, straining, just to hear the faint splash of water that means she's stepped in. But it's quiet.

Too quiet.

And it's torture. My heart pounds like a goddamn drumline in my chest, and my cock-well, it's reacting to just the thought of her undressing somewhere behind me.

"Don't turn," she finally says behind me, voice calm but firm, like she's holding back a million things she's not ready to say.

I shake my head, smirking to myself. "Never."

I don't move an inch. Not even to breathe too loud.

Still-silence. My mind's running wild, picturing her in every way it shouldn't. Maybe I imagined the whole thing. Maybe she's not even coming in. Maybe this is some cruel test to see how long I'll last without snapping and looking.

Then... there it is.

A quiet dip. A splash. The gentle ripples of movement.

The water shifts behind me and I squeeze my eyes shut, wondering if maybe I imagined it, if maybe I want this too damn much.

But then-A single touch.

Fingertips-soft, tentative-ghosting across the top of my back like a whisper. So light, I almost doubt it's real.

But my body knows.

It shudders.

A sharp, involuntary tremor rolls through me, from the base of my neck all the way down my spine. My breath catches in my throat. Every muscle tightens like a pulled wire, trying not to react, but I can't help it. Her fingers trail lower, slowly, deliberately-like she's sketching me from memory.

My skin burns beneath her touch.

My hands curl into fists underwater.

She's not doing anything crazy-just touching my back-but I feel like I might combust.

I don't dare turn. But fuck, I want to.

I swallow hard and close my eyes, letting myself feel it-her touch, her presence, her fucking courage to reach out like this.

She touches me again, this time slower... longer.

I don't know if she notices how tense I get, how my muscles jump under her fingers, but I can't stop it. Can't mask it.

"You work too hard on yourself..." she whispers, so low I almost think I imagined it. Her hand still glides lightly across my back, like she's sketching invisible lines only she can see.

I know she didn't mean for me to hear it. But I do.

"I have to," I say quietly, voice thick.

"Because of your dad," she finishes for me, her hand pausing mid-way down. "I know."

She stops touching me after that. Just like that-gone. Her warmth leaves my skin, but the imprint remains like a ghost of comfort.

I close my eyes, trying not to let my thoughts drift back to him. That man's voice, that look in his eyes-I don't want any of it in this moment. Not when she's here. Not when I'm standing in water with every cell in my body begging for her.

I need her. Her presence. Her touch.

And more than anything, I need permission to turn around and face her.

"I want to turn," I murmur, almost afraid to break the quiet. "Can I?"

There's a pause, so long I hear her breath before her words.

Then she says it-soft, hesitant, almost afraid.

"What if... what if you don't..."

My brows furrow. "What if I don't what?"

Silence. Then her voice again-barely above the water, barely there.

"Like what you see."

God. She really has no idea what she does to me, does she?

"I want to turn now, Soph. Let me decide what I like or not."

My voice is low, gravelly, holding back everything that's clawing to get out of me.

She's silent. So silent I can hear the water lapping gently around us, the distant hum of lights above, and my own thudding pulse in my ears.

Thirty whole seconds pass. It feels like a damn eternity.

Then I hear it-soft, nervous.

"Okay. Y-you can turn."

I turn slowly, breath caught in my throat, and then-

Fuck.

There she is.

My Soph.

Mine.

She stands just a few steps away, water clinging to the black bra and matching undies that hug her like a second skin. Her curves-God. Her body is a vision of softness and heat and everything I've tried so hard not to fantasize from the first time I touched her. But here she is, real and right in front of me. Her skin glowing under the lights, droplets catching in the valley of her breasts, and her eyes wide, unsure, like she doesn't know just how badly she's driving me insane.

I can't help it.

My hands move on instinct-straight to her hips. I slide them over the curve of her waist, my thumbs pressing into her skin, soft and warm and hers. My fingers dig in just slightly, needing more contact, more of her.

Fuck. I missed this. I missed her.

Her breath seizes, her lips parting just slightly. My eyes flash to her face, and she's staring up at me with something hot and unfiltered.

Then she whispers my name-"Theo..."-and it's the most lust-dripping sound I've ever heard. It undoes me.

I grip the back of her neck, pull her in like I've needed to for weeks, and slam my lips into hers.

She gasps against my mouth-but doesn't hesitate. She kisses me back immediately, hands clutching at my shoulders as if to anchor herself. Our bare bodies press together, nothing between us now but soaked fabric and that endless pull.

And fuck, it's like I can finally breathe again.

Between hungry, breathless kisses, I mutter against her mouth, "How could I not like this?"

She gasps as I gently bite her bottom lip, tugging it just enough to draw a soft, helpless sound from her throat.

"You're fucking perfect, Soph," I whisper, barely pulling back-just enough to look into those haunting green eyes of hers.

God, those eyes.

They've tormented me for weeks. They've haunted my sleep and driven me out of my goddamn mind. No matter how far I try to run, I keep seeing her. Always her.

She blinks at me, chest rising and falling as if the air around us has become too thick to breathe.

Then I let my hand slide around her back, fingers tracing along the wet strap of her bra. I rest my palm there, my thumb brushing gently where the clasp sits.

Her breath hitches.

"Can I?" I ask softly.

No hesitation. She nods-shaky but sure.

I grin, kissing her cheek, her jaw, then back to those lips I swear I could get drunk on.

"Good girl," I murmur.

The clasp gives way under my fingers, the black fabric loosening against her soaked skin. I don't even let it fall right away. My hand slides down instead, over the small of her back, then lower-to the swell of her ass and those hips that I swear were made just for my hands to hold.

I grip her firmly, lifting her without a second thought.

She gasps, but it turns into a breathless laugh as her legs instinctively wrap around my waist, clinging tight. Her lips crash into mine, desperate and wild, like she's just as intoxicated by this as I am.

I move through the water with her in my arms, until her back meets the edge of the pool. My hips press forward, and the friction between us-bare skin, wet, wanting-nearly kills me. I thrust again, slowly, teasing her, and a moan escapes her lips.

"Theo," she breathes, voice shaking.

"Yeah?" I murmur against her neck, kissing just under her ear.

"Take it off," she whispers, writhing a little, her chest brushing against mine.

I pause, my lips curling into a grin as I lean back just enough to meet her eyes.

"What off?" I tease, even though we both damn well know.

She groans softly, arching into me. "Tell me, love," I say again, a devilish spark in my voice.

"My bra," she whimpers, cheeks flushed, voice low and pleading. "Take it off... please."

She moves against me, just enough to make me feel it all. And I swear, my cock hardens painfully, begging for more.

I do what she asked.

Her bra slides off her shoulders, and I catch it, placing it gently on the edge of the pool, like it's something fragile-like she is. And then I look down at her, and holy hell... I forget how to breathe.

My throat bobs with a harsh swallow. For a second, I think I must've passed out underwater earlier and this is some kind of dream. But if it is... if this is death-don't wake me. Let me stay here, in this stolen moment with her.

"Can I?" I ask, my voice lower than I've ever heard it.

She doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

My hands reach up slowly, almost reverently, and I cup her breast, feeling the warmth of her skin, the softness that drives every thought from my head. She arches into my touch, a whimper escaping her lips that makes my head spin.

"You like that?" I whisper as I lean in, kissing the curve of her neck, feeling her pulse hammer against my lips.

She nods, breath shaky, fingers digging into my hair "Theo..." she murmurs like my name is the only thing anchoring her.

I stare down at her breasts one more time.

God... they're beautiful.

Round, full, and soft as sin. Her nipples already hard and begging for attention, flushed the prettiest shade of pink I've ever seen. Like they've been tempting me this whole time-like they know the kind of power they hold over me.

I drag my thumb gently over one, just to watch her reaction. Her body jolts in my arms, her breath catching hard in her throat.

Then I flick it.

"Fuck... fuck!"

A sharp gasp escapes her lips-more like a cry-and she arches against me like I've just lit her nerves on fire. My cock pulses painfully at the sound.

"You can shout if you want to, Soph," I whisper, low and rough in her ear. "Nights like this in places like this... no one cares. It's always busy. So scream, love."

I bite the lobe of her ear. "Scream for me. I want to hear you voice," I then lean down and press a kiss to her breast. Not rushed. Not clumsy. Slow... and full of heat. My tongue flicks her nipple right after, and she damn near loses her mind.

She gasps, moans, her fingers digging into my back like she doesn't know what else to hold onto-and I grin, because fuck, she's too gone to notice how much I'm shaking too.

She tastes like skin warmed by water, like heat and need and something I've been craving for years. I kiss her again, harder this time, and her moan vibrates down to my bones.

Her chest rises and falls so quickly, like she's just run a marathon, but all I've done is worship her with my mouth. Her fingers curl tighter into my shoulders, her soft gasps turning into breathy, broken sounds-"Oh God... fuck, fuck, Theo-"

I keep going. My lips close around her nipple again while my hand teases the other, rolling her between my fingers, flicking gently, squeezing just enough to hear that little whimper I'm growing addicted to. My cock is rock hard-aching, straining-and I know I won't last long like this.

Then I stop. Just barely.

She makes a sound of protest, her hands grabbing me. "W-Why are you stopping?"

I press my forehead to hers, panting. "What do you want, Soph? Tell me... I need to know how far this is going, because I'm so fucking close it's driving me insane."

Her eyes search mine-wide, still full of heat-but there's hesitation. "What if I don't want to go all the way?"

My heart clenches, and I nod without a second thought. "Then we won't. Simple."

But then... she narrows her eyes.

"That's stupid."

"What?" I blink, thrown completely off.

"I thought you'd be more..." she pauses, then shrugs with a roll of her eyes, "...dominant. You know. Like those guys in those romance books."

I huff out a laugh, trying to bite back a grin. "You mean I'm supposed to be like those fictional alpha males in those porn books you read about?"

"Maybe," she says, not quite looking at me, but the blush rising on her cheeks gives her away.

I lean in, brushing my lips over hers-just enough for her to feel it but not enough to give her what she wants. "Baby, If I were one of them, I'd already have you touching my cock, begging me to cum in your hand."

Her breath catches. "Theo-"

"But I'm trying really hard to be a gentleman right now."

Her eyes flicker up to mine in disbelief-and then I feel it. Her hand sliding across my abs, lower... lower, until it stops just above where I'm throbbing for her. Her fingers curl slightly, not quite touching-but close enough that I groan.

"You're so hard, Theo," she whispers, her voice like a spell that tightens every muscle in my body.

I close my eyes for a second, just to survive it. "Are you sure?"

She nods slowly, eyes locked on mine. "You've touched me before... so, let me touch you."

Her hand dips lower, sliding past the hem of my shorts until she's right there-just a thin barrier between her fingers and the part of me that's been aching for her.

"I don't really know what to do though," she adds, her voice a little shaky. "So... guide me, okay?"

Is this real?

Is this actually happening?

If someone bursts in here right now, I swear I'll hurl sticks, chairs, literal pool tiles-anything to keep this moment alive.

"O-Okay," I manage, my voice rougher than I mean it to be. I take a deep breath, try to get a grip. "Take my cock out."

I guide her hand with mine, and the second her fingers brush against me through the fabric, I nearly lose my mind. My hips twitch slightly, unbidden, the contact sending lightning straight through me.

"Like that?" she whispers, eyes darting up to mine, nervous but so willing.

I nod, jaw clenched. "Yeah... just like that."

And when her hand wraps around me-tentatively, curious-I suck in a sharp breath, my fingers tightening on the edge of the pool. Her touch is soft, unsure, but it's her, and that alone has me coming undone.

"You're so warm," she murmurs, fascinated. "And... huge."

A growl rumbles in my chest. "You keep saying things like that, Soph, and I'm not going to survive this."

She giggles, breathless and flushed. "Then guide me more."

"You should..." I pause, swallowing hard as her fingers wrap more securely around me, "squeeze it a little."

She obeys without hesitation, her hand tightening just enough to make me curse under my breath, the air between us thick and burning. My hips twitch, and I drop my head against her shoulder, kissing along the curve of her neck to ground myself.

"Now move your hand," I whisper against her skin, "just up and down... slow at first."

She follows my voice, experimenting, her hand tentative but eager, sliding with deliberate care. My hand finds her bare shoulder, fingers digging into her soft skin as I hold on, trying to stay in control, trying to breathe.

"Am I... doing okay?" she murmurs, her voice filled with both uncertainty and something that sounds a lot like pride.

I tilt her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. "You're doing so good, love. So well."

Her lips part just slightly at the praise, and when I rasp, "Now... slide your thumb across the tip," she listens-and I damn near fall apart. A guttural groan rips from my throat, loud and helpless, echoing around us.

"I'm not gonna last," I manage to choke out, my grip tightening on her. "Soph, I-God, I need to fucking cum...fuck!"

She doesn't stop. Her movements quicken with purpose, her eyes wide as she watches me unravel. The way she looks at me-like she wants this, wants me to fall apart in her hands-it pushes me right over the edge.

I take her lips again, swallowing every sound as I thrust into her hand, my body tightening with every stroke. My palm slides down from her stomach, fingers brushing lower until they slip beneath the band of her panties and finally reach where she's soaked for me.

"You don't... ugh," she breathes, her words breaking into a moan the moment I press a finger inside her.

I groan at the heat, the way she clenches around me. "It's not as tight as before," I mutter, my voice low and teasing. Then I pause. "Did you touch yourself before?"

She doesn't answer right away, her hips rolling in time with the slow thrust of my fingers, and I move faster, the thought lighting a fire under my skin. "Tell me you did," I whisper, desperate to hear it from her lips.

"Uh-uh," she nods, biting her bottom lip, her body trembling against mine. "I imagined you would come and see me doing it... but you didn't."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My thrusts falter for a second, stunned by how casually she admitted that, how vividly it played in my head now. Her-in her bed, legs parted, lips bitten raw, whispering my name into the silence as she fingered herself. Fuck.

"How many fingers?" I ask, my voice rough, breath ghosting over her cheek.

"W-What?" she stammers, her grip tightening in my hair, her forehead still resting against mine.

"How many did you use... when you touched yourself?"

Her eyes flutter shut, her lips parting. "Two... oh Jesus!"

She jolts when I slide in a second finger, thrusting both fingers deeper. The sound she makes-raw, uncontrollable-goes straight to my core. I pull back just enough to slam them back in, and she cries out, her head falling onto my shoulder, her nails seeping into my skin which turns me so fucking on.

"Theo... Theo... Theo..." Her voice breaks, needy and trembling. "Please..."

"Please what?" I ask, my voice low and wicked, pushing her further, dragging more pleasure out of her with each thrust. "Please what, love?"

She can't form words-just breathy moans and my name tumbling from her lips until finally I feel her warm breath against my ear.

"F-Fuck me. Please. Fuck me now."

My mind blanks. The words hit harder than anything else could. My hands tremble against her skin. "Are you sure?"

She nods so fast, so desperately, her whole body clenching around my fingers. "Yes. Yes, I want you, Theo. I want you."

Her hand moves faster around cock, growing bolder with each stroke. My hips match her rhythm instinctively, every thrust meeting the warmth of her palm. At the same time, my fingers curl inside her, hitting just the right spot that makes her legs tremble around my waist.

"Oh god, Theo," she breathes out, voice shaky and wild. "I want to... I want to come."

My forehead drops to hers, and I can feel her breath mix with mine, hot and frantic. "Then come with me," I murmur, eyes locked on hers. "We'll do it together, yeah?"

She nods, too far gone to speak, her hand moving with a desperate pace now, her hips rolling in sync with mine.

We move together, like we're both chasing the same crashing wave. Her moans echo in my ear, soft and broken. My name leaves her lips like a prayer. And as my release builds impossibly fast, I whisper, "Now, Soph... come now for me, love."

"Fuck... I'm-" she doesn't get to finish before I feel her release pulse around my fingers, and at the same moment, I burst my release in her hand, groaning into her neck as it all crashes through me.

We're both breathless, chests rising and falling against each other as the world around us slowly filters back in. The water laps softly against us, a stark reminder that we're still in the damn pool, half-dressed and absolutely wrecked.

Her fingers twitch against me, and I feel her shift just a little.

"So..." she starts, voice still breathy, slightly unsure.

I brace myself, fully expecting her to pull away, to run like she did last time. My jaw tightens-until I hear what she says next.

"We're still fucking, right?"

I blink, then burst into laughter against her skin, the tension breaking instantly.

"Hell yes, Soph," I murmur, brushing my lips against hers. "We're definitely fucking."