“Ahhh.” It feels that good.
“You’re a kidnapper’s dream come true. You know that?”
I slosh water everywhere as I turn toward the voice. “And you’re my worst nightmare. Why do you keep popping up and scaring the life out of me?” My eyes finally focus on the figure in the chair just across from the hot tub. Wes sits in total darkness but the glow from the water reflects onto the bottle in his hand.
“Sorry,” he offers a sincere apology, sitting forward so that the light illuminates his face. “I saw you walk past my room, so I followed you to see what you were up to.”
I sink to my neck in the water, not wanting him to see me in my revealing bikini. Again. “You mean you’ve been out here all this time?”
“Yep. Which brings me back to my point. You really should be more aware of your surroundings. You don’t ever know who’s watching you. You can’t be too careful, you know.”
I scowl at him. “Babysitting me again, huh?”
“No. Just a friendly observation.” He stands and places his nearly empty bottle on the table next to him, reaching behind him to pull his shirt over his head and opening the front of his jeans. “You don’t mind if I join you, do you?”
“It’s your house.” Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.
“My parents’ house,” he corrects. He shoves his jeans down his legs and steps out of the pile of denim, leaving only his boxer briefs behind.
Oops, I looked. I freaking looked. And now I can’t stop looking. I didn’t think he could possibly be hotter than in those clothes he had on today. I never thought I’d have the opportunity to see what’s underneath. I had it right earlier today when I compared him to a Greek statue, but this time I’m seeing it all. Well, except I never saw boxer briefs on any of the statues, they usually didn’t have . . . oh damn, I just looked at his package. Close your eyes, Callie. Abort. Abort!
“See something you like, sweetheart?” He snickers, mocking me with the same statement he made to me this afternoon.
I need a subject change before I completely embarrass myself. “How would your girlfriend feel about finding you in the hot tub with me?”
“Allison isn’t my girlfriend, per se.” He reaches over to some controls and bubbles erupt from the jets around the sides. It feels amazing.
“I caught her leaving your room a while ago, and she stopped in the hall to put her panties on. Define ‘per se’ because it sure looked like the physical aspect of your relationship was still going strong less than an hour ago.”
“It’s an on-again, mostly off-again kind of thing with her. Right now, though—forgive me if I offend you—it’s purely sexual. Nothing more. I asked her to be here tonight, just for that reason. I don’t know why she wasn’t wearing panties because we never got that far, but I suspect she won’t be coming back around for a while.”
“Why not?” As much as I should probably be offended by his admission, I can admire his honesty about the situation. I can’t really fault him for it if it’s all they both want out of the relationship. Unlike Tanner, who failed to mention it to me.
“Well, without sharing too many of the gory details, before anything really got started, I just went numb. I was bored with it. With her. I wasn’t, uh . . .” He motions to his lap. “You know.” He stutters after realizing what he’s admitted. “Uh, umm, not that it’s ever not worked before, but she was pissed when I told her I wasn’t into it.”
I have a sudden urge to spout something off about testing his equipment to ensure proper working order, but I somehow refrain. “You’ve had a bad day and a lot to drink. Surely, any normal human being could be understanding of that.”
“Yeah, you’re right about that. Far too much to drink.” He leans back and appears to contemplate. “Speaking of drunk assholes, I saw Jake on my way over here as he was walking to his car. It looked like his eye was swollen and he was walking funny. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to him, would you?”
“I would.”
He scoots around and bumps his shoulder into mine. “You okay? I tried to warn you about him. I would ask if I need to kick his ass, but it looks like someone beat me to it. Shane?”
“Me.”
His laughter echoes off the back of the house. “Haha! That’s freakin’ awesome.” A frown quickly replaces the smile, though, as soon as a thought crosses his mind. “What did he do to you?”
I shrug like it’s no big deal. “He kept kissing me after I wanted him to stop, and then he stuck his hand down the front of my pants. So I punched him. And then kicked him . . . you know . . . in his junk.”