Rebel(20)

“Jesus, it’s past midnight. I should sleep.” We finished off both the champagne and the wine that came with dinner, and I’m definitely feeling it.

“Already?” While I’ve got a solid buzz going, he seems almost unaffected. “This is when the day gets going.”

“For you, maybe. Besides, any more wine, and I might let you do something I’ll regret.” I roll my eyes at myself. I shouldn’t encourage him.

“Yeah?” He grins broadly and makes as if to pour me more.

“Yeah,” I laugh, pulling my glass away. “Like let you have a pillow and blanket for the couch, or... talk to me in public.” He laughs and pours anyway, letting the wine run onto the tablecloth. I quickly put my glass back just to catch it. “No more. You’re crazy, you know that?”

“It may have come up once or twice.” He watches me put the glass down and get up. “You’re really all done?”

“Told you, I’m going to bed.” My head swims as I stand. “Whoa. Yep, straight to bed.” I’m not quite falling over drunk, but I’m a cheap date. He was right about one thing at least, studying didn’t leave much time for parties. I’m a little proud of myself for not stumbling too much, but when I look back and see his grin, I realize I’m not impressing anyone.

Gavin gets up and follows me to the bedroom. I turn to him and almost fall over. “Why are you following me?”

“Ease up, cupcake. My stuff’s in here too.” Crouching by his suitcase, he tugs it open.

“Alright, look away. I’m getting under the covers,” I announce louder than I need to.

“Why? Do you sleep naked?” He sounds hopeful.

“Nooooooo...” I drag the word out. “But I didn’t bring PJs, since I thought I’d be here with my boyfriend.” He actually flinches at the emphasis I put into it. “So I want you to look away while I strip to my underwear.”

To my surprise, he actually turns. “I’m doing this under fucking protest. You’re a tease, babe.”

“Am not.” I slip my clothes off as quickly as I can.

“Are too.”

“Am not.” I climb onto the bed.

“Nice ass.”

Looking back, I find him ogling me with his usual cocky smirk. With a squeal, I rush under the covers, pulling them up to my neck while he laughs. “You said you wouldn’t look, you jerk.”

“I looked away while you stripped, babe. You didn’t say anything about after you were done.” He roots around in his suitcase until he finds a pair of pajama pants. “Some of us came prepared.”

What I’m not prepared for is him changing right in front of me. Tugging his shirt off, Gavin bares his muscular torso, his dark tattoos stark against his skin. I’m too drunk to hide my interest as I watch him strip. He grins, unbuckling his pants slowly. “You like the show, babe? I’ll let you slip in a dollar if you use your teeth.”

Heat rushes to my face, and I make a point of turning around. “You’d have to make change, and there’s not much to look at anyway.”

He only laughs, and I hear his pants hit the floor. “Better hurry if you want to see the main event.”

And the stupid thing? I look. I can’t help it. Pulling down the comforter just enough to peek, I catch him as he tugs off his black boxer briefs, tossing them onto his pants. Oh my God. He doesn’t cover a thing, letting his dick hang out. Holy crap.

Not quite as impressive as my first look, but still, wow. He catches me, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Looks good enough to eat, right?” Even as I watch, he starts to grow, and all I can do is stare wide-eyed as he gets longer and thicker. Then he tugs his pajamas up. “Show’s over, babe. Unless you’re up for dessert.” He laughs at my frantic head shake and turns to the other room. Stopping in the doorway, he eyes the couch skeptically.

Gavin throws a pleading glance my way, with big puppy dog eyes and a dismay written all over his face. “I’m going to be walking fucking crooked tomorrow from all the kinks I’ll get sleeping on that thing.”

“Serves you right.” I already know it’s too short for him, and it’s got those wooden armrests. He’s not kidding, but seriously? Sharing a bed?

“Fine. Whatever.” He still looks like a sad, kicked puppy.

I sigh. This was probably the look mini-Gavin practiced in the mirror before he was old enough to work on his mother-pleasing face. It works, damn him. “Stop. Alright, you can stay. But keep on your side. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

He looks genuinely relieved. “I know I don’t say this often, but you’re a fucking gem, Sis.” When he turns, it’s pretty obvious that his pants don’t hide a thing. Still at half mast, his dick bounces freely under the soft fabric, holding my attention in ways I don’t want to admit to.