Down and Dirty(23)
When he’d finally made his way to the spit of beach down the path, it was to find her standing ankle-deep in the water, wearing only her bra and underwear. He’d nearly swallowed his tongue.
“Figures. Lacey Drawers couldn’t keep her trap shut, huh?” She didn’t sound mad. More teasing than anything. “I told her if she was so worried, she should come with me, but that didn’t work. She said we could skinny-dip next time we go to our lake cottage, but really, when are we ever left alone long enough to do that?” She turned to face him, full on in the buttery moonlight, and the breath stuck in his chest. “Still, the water looks almost black, and my imagination started running away with me.”
He finally peeled the tongue from the roof of his mouth to speak. “You shouldn’t be here by yourself, Mary Catherine. It’s dangerous.”
“Well, it would seem I’m not by myself after all, wouldn’t it now, Decker?” She gave him the smile that never ceased to make his gut ache and started forward into the water.
He stepped in after her without hesitation, warm water lapping at his ankles and filling his sneakers.
“Don’t.”
“I’ve got to.” She shrugged her bare, white shoulders. “It’s on my bucket list.”
“What bucket list?” He asked, tearing his gaze from her satin-covered breasts. “That’s for old people.”
“It’s for people who have things they want to make sure to experience before they die, and I’ve got a long one.”
She hadn’t stopped moving and was ten feet out now, up to her hips. He bit back a curse. “And let me guess, annoying the shit out of your brother’s best friend is number one?”
Even then, she’d seen it. Known that annoyance was the least of the things he felt for her, at least that night. Her slow smile sent hormones screeching through his veins like a crazed banshee.
A low cough from the passenger’s seat jarred him back to the present. He snuck a look to his right to see Cat toying with the belt of her coat. “Uh, yeah. Still working my way through the bucket list, albeit with some adjustments. I crossed out ‘marry Justin Timberlake’ and changed it to ‘Ryan Gosling.’ And erased ‘move to Turkey and buy a monkey’ altogether. You know, stuff like that.”
Her voice was strained, so he opted to go along and play it light.
“Good call. I think he’s married now anyway, and I hear monkeys are a pain in the ass. I hate to take up too much of your vacation, though, if you had plans. Are you sure you’ll have time to do this dating site thing for me?”
“No, no. I want to!” Her rushed reassurance might have bruised his ego if it didn’t seem so over the top. “And most of my plans are later in the week. Tomorrow and the next day are unwinding days. I just finished designing a collection and need to decompress before I start the next one. You free late tomorrow afternoon? I can come by your parents’ house.”
His lips quirked at the words she didn’t say, but he heard loud and clear. You know, your parents’ house. Where your parents are and we won’t have to be alone.
Good. Making her nervous was very, very good.
“Sure, sounds perfect. Don’t eat. You know my mom loves to feed people.”
She adjusted her seat and seemed to settle in more comfortably. “Score. I love a free, mom-cooked meal.”
The hum of the heater was the only noise for the rest of the five-minute drive, but the silence was more companionable. He imagined she was pleased with how things were shaping up and was busy mentally dressing him for tomorrow’s photo shoot. Which was sort of ironic, since he was pretty fucking satisfied with the way things were going, too, and mentally undressing her.
The short leather coat she wore belted at the waist accentuated the fact that she was stacked both in the front and in the back, and he allowed himself to imagine that she wore nothing but the coat and those boots for him. That if he leaned over and tugged that leather bow, she would be unwrapped. An early birthday present. The sides of her coat would fall open—along with those creamy white thighs—and he’d have an unobstructed view of the sweet, round tits that he’d gotten to touch but not see. He’d—
“Slow down, my turn’s next, remember?” she said, giving his arm a tap and jarring him back to reality. “Jeez, you’ve been away so long you don’t remember where I live?”
“Sorry, I was daydreaming.” And that little fantasy was costing him. He shifted in his seat in an effort to ease the pressure his jeans were exerting on the mother of all boners. One thing was for sure, there was no way he was getting a wink of sleep tonight unless he jerked off. Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.