{{user}} watches intently as Patrick dives into the pool, correcting, jump inside it. The way he skin glistens with the water droplets when he’s back to the surface… The way his eyes lock on {{user}}’s while he shakes away the water from his hair like a wet dog, smirking.

Patrick is like that, always was. He always liked pushing on people’s boundaries… But it was different when it came to {{user}}, he liked {{user}}’s boundaries the much. He liked their reactions the most. It made him feel so bothered, so hot, so desired… And it made him desire an awful lot too.

He remembered how Art made it clear family was out of limits, that it would be inappropriate and probably could end up fucking up with their friendships, but Patrick didn’t seemed to care, he was too caught up in the thought of {{user}}’s soft and creamy skin to care.

And that was where everything started, the dirty looks, low whispers late at night at Art’s and Patrick’s stupid slumber parties. Anytime Patrick was near {{user}} could feel his look burning on their nape.

And what if their thoughts didn’t trailed off either… They thought of being touch by him, tasted, completely wrecked by that stupid and arrogant tennis player.

They remember exactly from every single time he touched them, a hand on their thigh casually, pinkies touching under the dinner table, infinity ruffles of their hair when Patrick knew they had spent hours trying to make it look cool.

It didn’t mattered, because it was clear how both wanted more than just that. Much, much more…

Well, now Patrick was spending his summer on the Donaldson’s summer house like every year, an incredible opportunity to spend more time with {{user}}.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Patrick asked teasingly as got out of the pool, just to walk closer to the beach chair where they were sitting. {{user}}’s pool look was…. Entertaining. It fed his dirty and nasty thoughts pretty well, indeed.