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head.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”
Preppy was right, as much as I hated to admit it. I took his hand. “Deal.” When I tried to let go, he pulled me between his legs and wrapped his hands around my waist. “A handshake is so informal. We should seal this deal with a fuck. That sounds much more official don’t you agree?”
I shook my head.
I pushed off his shoulders. “You know, sometimes I’m not sure when you’re serious.”
“Oh, well that’s easy to figure out. I’m always sometimes joking in a way that’s honest.”
“Totally cleared that up.”
“Glad I could help,” Preppy said as we both got back in the car. He started the engine.
“I could go to prison for this you know,” I stated, and although I intended for it to be an argument, I found myself smiling.
Preppy blew out a breath. “Minimum security, doesn’t even count.”
“I can’t believe I just agreed to forge documents when I told myself I’d never do it again,” I lamented.
Preppy put the car in reverse. “Don’t think of it that way then.”
“How would you have me think of it then?”
He wagged his eyebrows. “Think of it as coloring outside the lines.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DRE
“Where are the shoes? I thought we’d agreed that you’d wear the FUCK-ME heels?” he asked, when he saw me sitting on the rocker on the front porch in a pair of 50’s style, denim, high-waisted cut off’s with buttons on the front and a white ‘wife-beater’ style tank top that showed a small sliver of skin on my midsection. I’d opted for plain white Keds instead of my precious heels, which I seriously considered bubble wrapping for safe keeping.
“We didn’t agree to anything of the sort.” I stood up, and Preppy’s eyes dropped to where my shorts stopped high on my thigh and instantly, I regretted wearing them. “Besides, they didn’t really go with the outfit.”
“In my head you agreed to wear them. Actually, you agreed to a lot of things in my head. You want me to tell you about it?”
“Nope.”
“You really are a fun-sucker, Doc.”
Ten minutes later, he was dragging me through the woods in the back of Mirna’s house. The same woods I’d ran through when I ran from him weeks ago. “And you wanted me to wear heels?” I asked, stepping over a fallen tree branch. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”
“NOW you ask?” Preppy asked, turning around with a look of surprise on his face. “There is a man dragging you through the woods, with god-knows-what on my twisted mind, and now you think to ask where we’re going? I hate to say it again, Doc, but you’re kind of shit at this life thing.”
“Working on it,” I muttered.
“I’ll help you,” he said, ducking under a low growing bush. “First lesson, don’t go into the woods with men you don’t know because more than likely they have plans that end with your parts being scattered across several counties.”
“No following strangers into the woods,” I said, summarizing his lesson. “Check.”
“Number two, no candy from strangers.”
“What if they’re in a really cool van and parked by my playground?” I asked, with mock stupidity. “And they have Reese’s?”
“Well, then that all depends.”
“Depends on what?” I asked, as we finally found our way clear of the jungle of foliage.
Preppy stepped out into the clearing, turning his face up to the sun. “If the creepy guy in the van is me or not.”
Where most of Logan’s Beach is flat, the clearing was rocky on all sides with a large pond in the middle. Jagged rocks and piles of hard shell created a slope to a rocky perch ten feet or so above my head and twenty feet above the water below.
Preppy took off running up the slope but I stayed put, wondering what on earth he was up to.
I thought our funny banter about life lessons was a good step toward having a good time. I was ALMOST looking forward to the rest of the day, but the second Preppy pulled off his shirt I knew it was all a big fucking mistake. Even with only his naked back in view while he set his shirt neatly on a nearby rock, I knew I was screwed. But when he turned around and I was given a full view of his upper body, I considered heading back to the tower for another dose of a life reality check.
Because he COULDN’T be real.
He was complete and utter…perfection.
PAINFULLY so.
Colorful tattoos were inked over most of his skin. His defined abs flexed when he stretched his arms over his head. His biceps and forearms were lined with veins. He even had one of those V things that ran into his jeans and had me licking my lips like he was a steak and I was a hungry lion.
Which I wasn’t. I was the weak hurt lamb, wasn’t I? How the fuck did that movie go again?
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me? I thought, unable to tear my eyes away from the man, who with the removal of one item of clothing, had turned from looking like a hipster-professor type…into walking sex.
“Why am I kidding you?” he asked. That’s when I realized I’d not exactly kept that thought to myself.
There was no way to hide my staring, and since I couldn’t rip my eyes away from his body I decided to go with the truth, no matter how painful it was. “Seriously, THAT’S what you’ve been hiding under your LEAVE IT TO BEAVER clothes?” I asked, as he stood on the very edge of the ledge where the sunlight highlighted every bit of his perfection. He looked like one of those tattoo models on the cover of INKED magazine. Was it too much to ask that he have lopsided nipples or a beer belly?
“Like what you see, Doc?” Preppy asked, rubbing his chest, slowly sliding hands down his abs, gyrating his hips like some sort of erotic dancer. A move I’d never found attractive…until right then. Shit, there wasn’t much I’d found attractive before Conner and I started on our road trip to hell, and the first stirring of any kind of desire in over a year comes courtesy of the devil in a bow tie.
Man, I really was fucked up.
“God, no” I said, finding my voice. “I mean, what kind of person would like that?” I asked, twisting my face in disgust. “What I meant was that you’re like seriously disgusting. You should just cover…” I waved to his bare chest, “all that up,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “If we were in public, there would be people puking everywhere at the sight of you. So gross.” By the time I was done with my rant, Preppy’s smile had grown so big it was blinding.
Without warning he shoved down the waistband of his pants. I quickly turned around so he wouldn’t see the redness creeping up my neck at the thought of him without his pants on, and I kept rambling, “Do a sit up for Christ’s sake, before you go flashing your flabs all over the place.”
Preppy’s chuckle echoed over the water. “What was that, Doc?” he called out, “You want to sit on my face?”
“I am so fucking screwed.” I muttered, keeping my voice low, but he heard me anyway.
“Not yet, anyway,” he said.
“What the fuck?” I asked, turning around. “Do you have fucking sonic hearing? Or maybe sonar, like a dolphin?” Preppy was perched at the edge of the ledge, dressed only in a pair of black boxers.
With one last wag of his eyebrows in my direction, he held his nose and jumped off the rock, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. “Cannnnnnnon Baaaaaaaalllll!” he yelled, until he connected with the water, sending a huge splash raining down over me. I guess I wasn’t staying dry after all.
I was wiping the water from my eyes and realized that was a huge mistake when my eyes began to sting. “Shit!” I said, stumbling around blindly.
