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Go fuck yourself.
And that was the extent of our texting. He read it but didn’t respond. He was probably busy being a pretentious asshole.
“Well, that’s a relief,” she said. “I guess we should go.” She whirled around.
I didn’t move.
She slammed into my chest. “Ow!”
“Let’s have a glass of wine,” I said. “I want to check this place out more thoroughly.” I reached over and pulled a feather tickler down out of the cabinet. I ran the soft feathers over the palm of my hand.
“What does that feel like?” Bella asked, sounding intrigued.
“Like a feather.” I ran it down her bare arm. She jerked away.
“Ew, don’t do that. Who knows where that has been?”
One could only speculate. But I knew my brother. He was an OCD control freak with a shit-ton of cash, initially made playing online poker and then in real estate. I had no doubt he restocked with fresh supplies after each play session. “It’s brand-new.”
“You don’t know that!” Bella let out a shriek when I touched her with it again. “Stop!”
“You want me to stop?” I waved the feather again, grinning at her as she actually leaped onto the mattress to get away from me.
Bella was laughing as she held out her hands to block me when I pretended to jab at her with the feather tickler like a fencing sword.
“That is so gross, it’s probably been all over someone’s, you know.”
Her inability to talk dirty killed me. “What? All over someone’s pussy?” I stopped jabbing at her and instead stepped onto the mattress. “Is that what you mean?”
She nodded.
“I don’t think so.” I crooked my finger at her. “Come here.” I was done resisting temptation with Bella. This caboose was basically a sign from the universe to fuck Bella and fuck her now. I owed my brother a quality bottle of whiskey for his sweet little setup.
Bella’s giggling cut off. “What do you mean?” she asked, sounding breathless and turned on. Her tongue slipped out and ran across her bottom lip. Her brown eyes were wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her sundress.
“I mean, quit running away from me and come here so I can kiss you.”
To be honest, I didn’t think she would actually do it. I was right. She was still in the mood to be silly. With a laugh, she tried to dart past me. I grabbed her around the waist and tickled her ribs.
“Oh no, don’t tickle me, please,” she said, jerking in my grasp. “I’ll die!”
That made me laugh. I kept tickling. But what I didn’t count on was her flailing and laughing and shrieking so dramatically that she fell trying to get past me. Bella tripped and tumbled to the mattress as I said, “Shit, are you okay?”
She landed on her knees and giggled, instantly raising her hands up to shield herself. “No tickling. No more, please.” Her voice was breathless.
“I swear, no tickling,” I said, holding my own hands up. She was adorable on her knees, smiling and flushed. “Though I think you’re being a little dramatic. You can’t die from tickling.” I dropped down to my own knees in front of her.
“I could. I could legitimately have a heart attack and die. It hurts. It’s like being stabbed.”
Now I shot her a look of total disbelief. “Okay, princess.” I tucked one of her errant curls behind her ear. “I doubt you can claim to know what it feels like to be stabbed. I can’t either, but I’m one hundred percent sure it would hurt more than being tickled. Though you are very cute when you exaggerate.”
“I’m not—”
I cut her off by kissing her. I had told her she was a lot of work, and that was the truth. She was. She was also sexy and sweet, and after years of experiencing women as jaded as me, she was an intriguing mystery. It wasn’t an act, yet it was still just so hard to believe that a woman her age could be so naïve, so gullible, so caring, and so damn prudish. Yet be so oddly sophisticated.
Part of me wanted to bask in her, absorb some of that pure simplicity. That belief in right and wrong and the conviction of exactly what her life was. Or had been. So I kissed her, and it was demanding, my lips taking hers with passion, my tongue teasing her to open for me.
I thought she might push me away. But she didn’t.
