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“Thanks.” She took a drink. Her buzz was coming on fast, but she wanted it. The thought of getting drunk with John was fun. So was the thought of getting drunk and not having to worry about getting caught.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Just watched her with interest in his eyes. Was he into her? Did he want to make out?
What would it be like to make out with a man, not a boy? She’d never kissed a guy who had stubble on his jaw before.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Can I take your picture?”
That almost killed her buzz. Take her picture, why? To show to the cops? Because someone was looking for her?
“Why?”
“You’re pretty.”
“You want a picture of me because I’m pretty?”
“Yeah. And then I can look at it when I’m away.”
“Not so you can identify me to the cops or something.”
“Brielle, I’m letting you stay in my cabin. If someone’s looking for you and they find out, I’m the one who’ll be in trouble.”
He had a point. It didn’t make sense that he’d turn her in now. Not after everything he’d done for her. Even with a beer buzz, she knew that was true.
“Okay, you can take my picture.”
He held up his phone and she smiled for him.
“Here.” He took her beer and set it on the coffee table, then brushed her hair back from her face before taking a few more.
“Is that good?” she asked.
“Can you stand up for another one?”
“Okay.” She stood and only wobbled a little.
He got up and held out a hand to steady her, then stepped back and lifted his phone. “Unbutton your shirt a little.”
She did what he asked, unfastening the top two buttons and spreading the collar to show off more skin.
“Good.” He took a few more. “Turn and put your hand on your hip.”
She kept following his instructions, playing it up with a lip pout and moving her hand down to touch her backside.
“Oh yeah,” he said, his voice going low and growly. “That’s good. Unzip your jeans and pull them down.”
She giggled, her head swimming, and did what he said.
“Take them off.”
That made her pause. He wanted her to take off her pants so he could take pictures?
But what was so bad about that? They were for him. Why not give him what he wanted?
She made a show of undressing, taking them off slowly, posing for the camera as she did. Pouty lips. Sultry eyes. When he asked her to take off her shirt, she almost hesitated, but told herself to just do it. Have fun. It was John. It was fine. He’d done so much for her, she could do something for him in return. Make him happy.
And he certainly looked happy.
