I put my beer can on the counter next to me, crossed my legs Indian-style and plunked a nearby bowl of chips in my lap. “Want some?” I offered to Becca.
“Yeah, sure, thanks.” She reached over and plucked a single chip out of the bowl, nibbling daintily while we watched the boys’ game. As hard as I tried, I could never pull off such a girly-girl move so naturally. Sad fact was that my inner tomboy was alive and well, especially around food.
I’d been mulling that over when Becca’s words broke my train of thought. “Um. I uh, wanted to thank you for what you said to Cooper about me.”
Wait, what? What had I said?
I guess the question played out on my face, because she clarified, “When you told him that you thought I was...” she lowered her voice and flushed a sweet shade of pink to continue, “so pretty.”
A faint recollection of a long ago conversation with Coop played out in my mind. The previous spring, during Junior year while we were “dating”, he and I were at his locker together. I’d noticed Becca sneaking looks at Cooper from across the hall, and mentioned it to him. What she didn’t know is that my words were something more along the lines of, “Wow. Becca Bradley is actually so pretty. It’s a shame that people don’t notice that more.” But I was hoping that Cooper had left that second part off.
I smiled at her and answered, “Well, you are!”
Her blush deepened as she smiled out, “Thank you.” I held the bowl of chips in her direction, but she waved it away. See what I mean about how girly she was? I mean, who the heck only eats one chip?
I crammed a few in my mouth and was chomping away as she added, “Coop said that was the first time he’d ever really noticed me, because of what you said. He said that he never had the nerve to ask me out until Heather and I showed up to Rymer’s grad party the other night.”
My first thought was that Coop was so tied up in my BS and that’s why he hadn’t asked her out until then. But then I realized she wasn’t trying to thank me for the compliment, but for the fact that she and Coop had finally gotten together, however indirectly, because of me. Wasn’t I the one who insisted Heather and she go to Rymer’s? Would they have ever shown up on their own to one of our parties otherwise? The honest answer was no. Only because, in the four years we’d gone to school together, that was the first appearance those two girls had ever made within our social stratosphere. I didn’t want to throw my arm out patting myself on the back or anything, because truth be told, I wasn’t the only one who deserved credit. When I connected the dots from Becca and Heather to me, there was still one degree of separation between us.
“You know,” I started, nodding my head in the direction of the table, “the person you should really be thanking is Trip. I wouldn’t have even met you girls if it weren’t for him.”
We both watched as Trip got to his feet, aimed an elbow at Cooper and yelled “Consume! Consume!” at the top of his lungs.
I shot a look at my new friend. “As you can see, clearly this is a man entirely capable of masterminding your fate.”
That made us both crack up. I grabbed my beer can and held it out to hers, she tapped her drink against mine and we both took a swig.
Chapter 29
AFTER DARK, MY SWEET
I spent the bulk of my night hanging with Becca and Heather, seeing as “our men” were preoccupied with their drinking games all night. After Quarters came Beer Pong, and then Coop broke out a deck of cards to play Asshole. I talked the girls into joining in, and after explaining the game rules, Heather proceeded to kick each and every one of our butts.
Lisa and Pick had been anti-social all night, spending most of their evening out on the porch arguing, which wasn’t normally their style. I wondered what was going on. By midnight, they were totally MIA anyway, and I figured they must have decided to turn in. I couldn’t very well blame them for sneaking off to bed so early. We were all still trying to catch up on our shuteye since the allnighter after graduation.
By the time Rymer slurringly suggested that we play Strip Poker, I decided it was time to turn in, too. We’d been drinking since dinnertime, and even at my nursing pace, I was definitely feeling a little buzzed. Whatever snacks we had in the house had long since been demolished, our dinner sandwiches a distant memory, leaving no absorption in my stomach for all that beer.
The guys were flat-out drunk, singing along to “Comfortably Numb” when I stood up to take my leave. I gave a stretching yawn, apologized for being the turd in the punch bowl and went upstairs. I brushed my teeth and started to head into my room, but my feet had other ideas, succumbing to the tractor beam of Trip’s room instead.
All the bedrooms had window fans, but they didn’t serve as much defense against the day’s blazing heat. The only areas that had air-conditioning were the kitchen and the living room, and after spending the past few hours downstairs, the warmth on the second floor was almost unbearable. I slipped under the sheets anyway, seeing as I was wearing only my bra and panties. Even though I was executing a pretty bold plan for Trip to find me undressed in his bed, I still wanted to maintain some semblance of mystery.
Whether the party broke up within minutes of my departure or Trip realized there might be a chance for an even better party upstairs, I have no idea. But I had just barely settled myself into his bed when I heard his footsteps coming up the stairwell.
The cocky bastard didn’t even bother peeking his head into my room before strolling into his own, a sly grin playing at his lips as if he wasn’t even the least bit surprised to find me there.
“Hi,” he drawled, before swaying the few steps over and placing his hands at the foot of the mattress. He clutched the sheet over my toes with one hand and leisurely pulled it toward him, revealing my waiting form one excruciating inch at a time. The painstaking slide of the sheet skimmed across my skin, teasing me with the promise of what was to come. It was torture, having to wait, wanting only to get my hands on him, feel his lips crushing me. But he continued his unhurried motion, his eyes never leaving mine.
Once the sheet had cleared my lacy white bra, his lip curled up into a sneer. By the time he’d slid it down past my hips, he was practically licking his chops. By that time, I was feeling pretty worked up, but still a bit self-conscious.
I laid there, trying to look perfectly at home sprawled out half-naked on his bed as he snickered, “Well, look what we have here.” His words were slightly garbled around the edges and he staggered a bit during his climb onto the mattress.
He crawled so incredibly slowly over me, kissing my ankles, shins, knees, thighs, along the way. It was taking him forever to make his way to my lips, but somehow, the waiting was turning me on almost more than the actual doing. He pushed my knees apart and filled the space with his kneeling form, running his hands along the outside of my legs, sending electric charges up my entire length. I let out a small moan which earned me a throaty chuckle from Trip. He moved further up, grabbing my hips, holding them pinned to the bed as his lips and tongue hit my navel, and I was finally able to put my hands on him. I combed my fingers through his golden hair and arched my back toward him, dragging a low growl from his throat as he laughed out, “Oh, no you don’t.”
He slid his body on top of mine, the weight of him pushing me back down into the mattress. He grabbed my wrists in one hand, forcing them up, imprisoning my arms above my head. His other hand was skimming across my collarbone, his mouth hovering an inch over mine. I tried to close the gap and kiss him, but he pulled back, denying me, a wicked smile on his devilish face, deliberately teasing me.
I could feel him harden against me; not quite the steel rod from that afternoon, but surely promising an appearance nonetheless. He buried his face in my neck, running his lips along the side, down to the hollow of my throat, between the lacy cups of my bra, back to my throat. My heart was threatening to burst its way out of my chest, Trip driving me insane without even having kissed me yet.
He was so hot, so completely male in everything he did, from the way he looked to the way he was looking at me. The sensory overload was almost unbearable. Trapped immobile, my arms pinned to the pillows above my head, my body imprisoned beneath his, those sweet, full lips just an inch away from my own, the delectable sensation of his hardened body pressing in just the right spot... Oh God, what could be better?
He released my hands and wrapped his arms around me, finally allowing me to touch him. I tried to tease him back, dusting my lips along his hairline slowly, cradling his mussed head against my neck. I could feel his lips brushing against my skin so softly, the full weight of him practically threatening to crush me, almost not even moving at all...
I registered his steady breathing which quickly turned to snoring and realized he had passed out.
Was he kidding?
He must have been drunker than I thought. Now this was dejection. No acting going on here.
I laid there, feeling all worked up and completely let down, when suddenly, I just started laughing. If this was how I was feeling about it now, I couldn’t imagine what Trip was going to be feeling in the morning. I looked down at the sleeping beauty in my arms, wondering how hard he was going to be kicking himself the next day. After he’d seen the goods on the beach, I knew he’d been waiting out the minutes to get his hands on the merchandise. It’s not like I had any designs on going too far with him that night, but I’m sure we could have had a helluva time working on some variables.