“You look…you look…”
“Hungry?” She bounced off the bed and grabbed her own bag. “I’m gonna get cleaned up. I need food before my body starts chowing down on the fat stored on my ass in protest. I worked hard for this ass. Those pancakes were not eaten in vain.”
Adam choked back a laugh. “Shit. You always did have a way with words.”
She grinned, but it looked strained. “Won’t be long.” Then she shut herself in the bathroom.
Had she really been crying? And who could blame her? He’d been acting like an asshole to cover his weakening resolve. They were stuck together for the next few days. He had to find a way to deal with this. Why the hell did she want him anyway? He had to be the polar opposite of her professor, right? Adam was a college dropout. The kind of man who had grease permanently under his fingernails. Shit, he’d never even taken a woman on a date before. Barely knew what to do or say beyond the usual bullshit people looking to hook up said to each other. Okay, now he was thinking of her and that fucker together. Not a good idea. Another reason, on top of the many others, that he was no good for her. She didn’t need some jealous, overbearing, possessive asshole in her life.
But that’s how he felt around her.
He also felt insecure.
Fucking desperate.
The bathroom door opened a short time later and Lucy walked out, a waft of honey and some other sweet but musky scent trailing after her. Her hair was a little damp and she’d changed into a sundress. It was white, her shoulders and arms bare, and short enough that he could see the tops of her thighs. The muscles flexed as she walked over to dump her bag on the table then grab a smaller one and lift it over her head. The strap crossed over her chest, drawing the eye to her tight little tits and the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra under that fucking dress. Seeing her like that was torture. All he could think about was bending her over that table, bunching that light fabric around her hips, and getting a look…fuck, tasting what she had hidden between her thighs.
“Let’s go.” He opened the door and started walking.
Their room door snapped shut behind him. “Wait up.”
He could hear her jogging to catch up, and by the sounds of it, in a pair of flip-flops. Instead of taking the car, since the place was so busy and finding somewhere to park would be near impossible, he carried on toward town. Lucy finally caught up and they walked side by side in silence for a while.
“It’s warm out tonight,” she finally said.
He opened his mouth to give his standard answer of “yeah” but stopped himself. He needed to pull his head out of his ass or this trip would be more painful than it already promised to be. Lucy deserved better from him. “Some good smells, too.” You being the most delicious of all, sweetheart. “Looks like there’re some food carts.” A short distance ahead, where the street had been closed off, people crowded the stalls set up and live music played.
Lucy clapped her hands, adding extra bounce to her walk. “Dude, that looks freaking amazing.”
“Dude?”
She snorted and shoulder checked him. “Sorry, I forgot you’re old. Does this work better for you?” She plastered a cheesy grin on her face. “Oh wow, look, Mr. Grady! Look at the delights before us.”
His deep chuckle surprised him. It sounded rough, like it had been a long time since he felt genuine humor. Well, at least the uncynical kind. “You call me Mr. Grady again, we’ll have a problem.”
“Oh? That sounds ominous.” She glanced at him, real happiness lighting up her features. “What do you plan to do? Put me in the naughty corner? Withhold my dessert? Spank me?”
Adam actually stumbled. Jesus Christ. He’d held his shit together for all of ten minutes, and with only a few innocent words—and he knew that’s what they were because her eyes had gone wide when she realized how they sounded—he was hard for her. Why hadn’t he rubbed one out in the shower before they left? Dousing himself in ice water had done jack shit. But then the idea of jerking off with Lucy just outside the door was something he hadn’t wanted to risk. Not when it would have been her face swimming in his mind while he stroked his cock.
And even as all these thoughts plowed through his head one after the other, he still said exactly what he shouldn’t. “Spanking is only effective as a punishment if the recipient doesn’t enjoy it.”
Shut the fuck up. Now.
He expected her to be shocked. Instead, she gave him a sidelong glance that had his chest tightening. “And what gives you the impression that’s something I might enjoy?”