[Third Person Pov]
As everyone dug into their meals, MJ made no attempt to hide the sharp, simmering glare she kept shooting toward Harry and Lizzy. The pair sat stiffly across the table, both of them red-faced and doing everything in their power to avoid making eye contact with anyone—especially her.
"Pete, please tell her to stop glaring at us," Harry finally begged, leaning toward Peter with the desperate look of a man awaiting execution. "We already apologized like a thousand times."
They were seated at a long wooden table positioned on the open deck of a seaside restaurant, the vast stretch of beach lying below them in a sun-drenched sprawl. Waves crashed rhythmically in the background, the scent of salt mixing with the aroma of grilled seafood and fresh tortillas. Peter, seated across from Harry, lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug.
"Sorry, dude. But you did take an obnoxiously long time."
Harry groaned and stabbed half-heartedly at the massive burrito on his plate. "We… merely lost track of time, alright? I mean, it's not like you guys don't sneak off to handle your own business."
"Yeah," MJ shot back with a low growl, "but when we sneak off, we don't derail everyone else's plans or leave us starving for an hour and a half. If you two want to disappear next time, do it when you're not in charge of the food."
Lizzy winced and looked around for backup. "We didn't take that long… right?"
Felicia dabbed her lips delicately with a napkin before answering in the most nonchalant tone imaginable. "You guys took so long Pete went out of his way to rent us jet skis."
Harry paused mid-bite, staring at Peter. "Wait—seriously? Don't you need a special license for that or something?"
"Not when you have money to burn," Peter replied with a smug grin that absolutely did not help Harry feel better.
Gwen gave him a flat, unimpressed stare. "Pete bribed the guy…"
"I wouldn't exactly call it bribing," Peter said casually, lifting his soda for a sip. "It was more like… paying a higher price for a luxury service."
"That was absolutely a bribe," Felicia and MJ said in perfect, unimpressed harmony.
Peter only leaned back in his chair, completely shameless. "Money well spent."
The whole table broke into chuckle and laughter, the tension finally loosening.
---
A short while later…
"WOOOOOOOAAAHHH!!"
Their collective scream of exhilaration echoed across the ocean as the group tore across the open water on their rented jet skis. The sun reflected in blinding shards off the surface, warm wind whipping through their hair.
Lizzy sat pressed tightly against Harry's back, arms wrapped around his waist as their jet ski bounced over the waves. Felicia and Aria cruised on their own machines, both of them sporting stylish sunglasses and the confident, carefree energy of two women who belonged in a summer commercial.
Gwen had taken over driving duties on hers, standing up with her knees bent slightly, laughing openly as water misted over them. Peter sat behind her, leaning back with relaxed amusement—very much not focused on the horizon.
Gwen glanced over her shoulder, eyes sparkling. "Are you sure you don't want to drive!? This is awesome!"
Peter didn't even pretend to look at the water. His gaze was firmly—and shamelessly—locked on her raised backside. He offered her a very enthusiastic thumbs-up.
"Don't worry about me," he said, utterly content. "I'm just enjoying the view."
Gwen's face flared red as she dropped back down to her seat. "Perv…" she muttered, though her smile betrayed her embarrassment.
"Hehehe, sorry. But can you blame me?" Peter teased as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer before planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "You give me a lot to admire."
Gwen's blush deepened, but a smirk curved at her lips as she peeked over her shoulder. "You've gotten a lot better at being a sweet talker…"
Then, without warning, she shifted downward—sliding onto the seat just enough that her weight settled directly onto his lap, her hips pressing snugly against his crotch.
Her voice dropped to a mischievous whisper.
"…and I kind of like it."
Peter sucked in a sharp breath. "Careful there, babe. You're playing with fire…"
Gwen rolled her hips in a deliberate, teasing motion, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Then I guess we're lucky I'm capable of manipulating ice."
Her movements create an undeniable pressure against his lap, the heat of her body evident even through the fabric of their swimsuits. Peter's hands instinctively tighten around her waist as his breathing hitches, the subtle shift in his body language giving away how quickly he responds to her proximity.
Gwen notices the change immediately, her own pulse quickening as she feels the evidence of his arousal growing beneath her. A mischievous glint appears in her eyes, and she deliberately presses herself more firmly against him, grinding slowly.
"Oh yeah?" Peter's voice emerges rough and strained as he grips her tighter, his fingers digging into her soft skin with restrained need.
His hips jerk upward involuntarily, seeking more contact with the teasing friction of her body. The water around them laps gently, cooling the skin not covered by their intertwined forms.
Gwen arches her back slightly, her long hair brushing against his bare chest as she continues her slow, deliberate movements. "Seems like I'm not the only one enjoying this little game," she murmurs, her voice heavy with amusement and something darker beneath the surface.
The vibration of her words thrums through his chest as Peter feels the warm skin of her back pressed against him. His fingers trace idle patterns along her abdomen. Each slow, deliberate motion of her body against his sends sparks through his nervous system.
"You keep doing that and I won't be responsible for what happens next," he growls, the words rumbling deep in his throat as his hands slide upward to cup her breasts through the thin fabric of her top. Gwen's breath catches as his thumbs find her nipples already hardened beneath the material, teasing them gently through the barrier. Gwen lets out a soft whimper as Peter's fingers tease her sensitive peaks, her body responding immediately to his touch. She arches further into his hands, pressing her ass firmly against his growing erection as she grinds down harder. The salty sea breeze carries the heat between them, mingling with the scent of sunscreen and Gwen's floral shampoo.
I don't want you to be responsible," she breathes, turning her head just enough to brush her lips against the shell of his ear. Her teeth graze his earlobe before she nips at it playfully. "I want you to lose control. I want you to show me how much you want this."
"Are you sure that's such a good idea while we're out in the open, while you're driving nonetheless"
Peter asked with a low chuckle, though his grip on her hips suggests he's having difficulty concentrating on anything beyond the heat pulsing between them. His fingers continue their slow circles around her sensitive peaks, sending delicious waves of pleasure coursing through her body.
Gwen's breathing quickens as she grinds down harder against his growing length, feeling every ridge and pulse through the thin fabric separating them. "Nobody's looking out here," she murmurs, her voice thick with desire as she deliberately rolls her hips in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. "And I'm perfectly capable of multitasking."
Peter groans as she grinds down again, his hands sliding from her breasts to grip her waist possessively. "Christ, Gwen..." His voice cracks with raw need as his fingers dig into the soft curves of her waist. The water sloshes gently around the jet ski as Gwen maintains control of the machine, her movements steady and precise despite the distraction of Peter's growing erection pressing insistently against her.
Gwen's laughter is low and husky as she deliberately slows the jet ski to a gentle drift, the engine purring beneath them. "See? No problem at all." Her fingers lace with his where they grip her waist, pulling his hands lower to rest on the top of her thighs. "But if you're worried, maybe you should take over driving duties so I can focus on you properly."
Her words emerge as a soft, inviting challenge that Peter's body responds to before his mind can fully process them. He hesitates for only a heartbeat before nodding, his hands already moving to grip the handles of the jet ski as he leans forward slightly. The change in position makes his hardening length press even more firmly against the curve of her ass, drawing a low groan from his throat.
"Fuck, okay," he says, voice thick with need as he adjusts his grip on the handles. The jet ski shifts slightly as he takes control of the throttle, keeping the machine in a steady, slow drift across the calm water.
************************************************
+5 advance Chapters on: patreon.com/Shadow_D_Monarch3