See Me .(49)

“Hey, Sean’s here. Did you see him?” Eric said before turning back to the pot where Ron slid pieces of meat into the sauce. “Easy, babe.”

Ron looked over his shoulder at Abigail and gave a sympathetic smile. He tilted his head toward the french doors. Abigail turned around and could see Sean sitting on the end of a lounger next to the pool. His elbows rested on his knees as he focused on something in the distance.

Abigail set the cookie sheet on the counter and watched through the open doors. The reddened skin on his shoulders looked like he’d been lounging in the sun for weeks. The rest of his back was a pretty shade of pink. How long had he been here? She looked at the two still bickering at the stove. All the guys had ditched their shirts and wore only their colorful swim trunks.

“He needs some aloe,” she mumbled.

“Huh?” Ron said as he stuck his head in the fridge to dig out two blocks of cheese.

“Nothing.”

“Eric made Singapore slings. You want one?” Ron asked her as he sliced into the block of mozzarella.

She needed to keep all her wits if she was going to survive this evening. Dinner and home were the only plans on her agenda, not tiki drinks and giggling. “No, but I’ll have a glass of tea.”

Abigail knew her way around Eric’s kitchen and helped herself to a glass of iced tea. When she sat down on one of the cushioned bar stools, she looked out the doors onto the patio. Sean was still out there, sitting in the same position. His broad back looked tense, each muscle strung tight. This is stupid. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” She reached into the fridge, grabbed the bottle of aloe, and headed for the patio.



SEAN STARED INTO the pink and purple horizon. He’d hung out here way too long. The sound of Abigail’s voice coming from behind the bathroom door had sent his heart into maniac mode, thudding so hard he thought the damn thing was going to punch through his chest. What in the hell was she doing here? Ron had said Xbox and dinner, never anything about Abigail coming over.

He felt stuck. If he walked out, it’d look like he was throwing a tantrum. If he stayed, he might throw up. He’d never gotten this nervous before a fight. Hadn’t even flinched when the judge sentenced him to five years. Now his palms were soaked, and all he could think about was running into the tree line at the back of the property.

“You’re red.” The sweet sound didn’t startle him. Surprised him, yes, but didn’t make him jump. He wanted to turn to her, pull her soft body down onto his lap, and kiss the apology against her beautiful lips. “I…I brought some aloe.”

In his peripheral vision, he could see pink flip-flops and creamy white calves. He tilted his head just a bit. What had she put on? He could see her knees and the firm flesh of her thighs. Jesus Christ, she’s trying to fucking kill me. The jean shorts she had on were tattered and well-worn. The stringy white fringes hung against the smooth skin he was dying to lick and nibble. He pressed his palms together.

“Okay, I just thought because you’re shoulders are red and—”

“Sure.” What the fuck are you doing? Run, asshole!

“Here,” she said and slipped the pink flip-flops from her pretty little feet.

He took the bottle of green gel from her hand. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he said and unscrewed the cap. When he looked back, she was lying against the lounger, knees pulled up to her chest. Jesus, he could see a thin piece of pale purple panty underneath those sexy jean shorts.

“I didn’t know you were coming either. Do you want me to leave?”

She set a glass on the table between the loungers and started to stand up. The lump in his throat gave way. “No. God, please don’t go. Can you do this?” He tipped the plastic bottle in her direction and stood up. He’d do damn near anything to get between those luscious thighs again.

“Um, okay…I can do that.”

Instead of giving her a second to change her mind, he sat down on the end of her lounger and backed up until his back hit her knees. He pressed, and she parted her legs to drop her feet on either side of him. Those purple panties are covering that silky pussy. Her wet, creamy cunt. His fingers remembered how warm and soft the inside of her body felt and ached to get back there. The closure on his trunks was going to pop if he didn’t get his head in the game. She already thought he was an animal. If she saw the wood he was sporting, she’d push him into the pool and hope he’d drown.

Her knees bumped his thighs when she scooted closer. He didn’t mind, but she must have, because she scooted back again. “I won’t bite,” he said, trying to ease her anxiety.