“I wasn’t annoyed.”
I screwed off the top of the bottle and took a swig. “Yes, you were. You said, and I quote, ‘How fucking stupid, Bree.’”
“I was jealous you were more of a badass than me. That new one is hot. Come here.” Suddenly, his hands were on my hips and he dragged me in front of him.
“What are you—”
He stood behind me, his stance wide as he drew me between his thighs. Sliding his fingers into my waistband above my right hip, he turned me slightly and peeled the material down just far enough to expose my right ass cheek and my new infinity tattoo. He traced the symbol with his fingers. The gentle scrape of his calloused fingertips against my sensitive skin sent little shivers through me.
“Let me guess. You’re jealous of that one too? I’ll tat your ass for you, Kennedy. You just say the word.” Just once I wanted to enjoy a moment without hiding behind my smart mouth, but I couldn’t help it. Defense mechanism or whatever.
He traced the symbol once. Twice. By the third tortuously slow tracing, my legs were jelly. Then he took his hand away and released the waistband so it snapped back into place. My whole body cried out in protest.
“There was another one too,” he whispered. His voice was deeper, rougher. Was I imagining that? His hand slid up my tank, searching for the tattoo at the base of my spine. My nipples pebbled tight at his touch. “Let me see this one.”
I swallowed. Hard. Then pulled my tank up and held it under my breasts, leaving my lower back and stomach exposed. I stood there between Kennedy’s legs as he traced the vine at the base of my spine, following it around under my breasts. I wouldn’t let myself think or hope. I couldn’t. I wanted more too badly.
He took another step closer, all but eliminating the air between our bodies. I couldn’t see him and didn’t dare look, but his breath sent shivers through me as he lowered his mouth to my ear. “I don’t do impulsive,” he whispered, fanning his fingers over my belly. He pulled our bodies close together. “I do slow and methodical. I think about things.”
His fingertip slipped under the waistband of my pants, and I gasped. “I think about things too.”
“Did you think about sliding naked into my bed or was that an impulse?”
An electric buzz shivered its way down my spine. “I told you I was sorry.”
“I never asked for an apology.”
She’d dropped the towel. I’d baited her, and she’d taken it. I didn’t think my heart would ever recover from that moment. Her ass had just enough jiggle to it, and even though she’d kept her back to me as she pulled on her clothes, I got a glimpse of her bare breasts. They were small—it was something she always joked about—but they were perfect. She was perfect.
For years, I had denied myself my feelings for Bree, but tonight I was done denying. Blame it on the whiskey. Blame it on the hurt in her eyes when she’d accused me of not noticing she was a woman. Blame it on the sexy tattoo on her ass that made my mouth water from wanting to bite it so badly.
She stood stock-still as once more I traced the vine up her spine and around her ribcage. I could see the goose bumps rising on her skin, and it was more instinct than seduction that had me leaning forward and blowing against her spine. Her body shuddered toward me, and just like that, my mouth was on her, her skin warm under my lips.
“Kennedy,” she murmured.
I loved hearing my name on her lips. Bree saying my name, arousal making her breath come harder. I snaked my hand around the front of her body, following the path of the vine. She released her shirt and braced herself on the edge of the bed, bending slightly at her hips.
A groan slipped from my lips, and I nipped at the base of her spine.
I moved my hand slowly, wanting to memorize every inch of her soft skin. We were doing this. For better or worse, I was touching Bree, making her pant. The idea was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.
I cupped her breasts and bit back a moan at how good they felt in my hands. Dipping my head, I opened my mouth against her shoulder blade, scraping my teeth over the bone, skimming my tongue over her tattoo. She leaned back, rolling her backside against my erection as I rolled her taut nipples between my fingers.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Bree.”
She spun in my arms and went to work on the buttons of my shirt. God, were her hands shaking? She pushed it from my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. “It’s about time you noticed,” she said, and when she looked up at me again, I saw it. The vulnerability in her eyes. The fear behind the bravado.
“You think I didn’t notice?” I pulled my undershirt off over my head so I could feel her breasts against my bare chest. Then I pressed my mouth to hers because the fear in her eyes was breaking my heart and I wanted to wash it away. She opened under me, kissing me with the same impatient greed I felt for her. Her hands slid into my hair. I cupped her face in my hands, trying to slow this down, trying to take back control. She was trying to be the careless seductress, but I wanted more than sex. I wanted in. I wanted…Bree.