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She nodded, still wearing that adorable smile. “Me, too.”
“Get out of the pool so I can take a picture of you.”
“What for?”
“I want my pals to eat my shit.”
Her eyes rounded, and her jaw hung open for a moment. “You are so not going to boast about me, Luke.”
“I am, too. Have you seen yourself, woman? Come on. Pose for me.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll go down on you again, Pey Pey. In fact I’ll go down on you either way. Come on, give me a profile and give them a boner.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
When she swam around to the pool entrance and walked out of the water toward him, his cock jumped at the sight of her luscious curves in that black bikini.
“Luke. This is foolish.” She shook her long, dripping hair from side to side but continued ambling over.
He grinned and lifted up his iPhone. “I love it when you say my name like a headmistress.”
“Seriously, I can’t believe I’m considering this.”
“Come on, woman! You’re harder to bend than my banker.”
“You have a banker?”
“Hush and pose. You look prettier quiet and submissive.”
“Yeah, right. Just don’t let my face show. Only my butt.” She turned around so he’d see her lovely, perfect, fuck-me butt, and he clicked the button, his cock throbbing down to his balls.
He stared down at the picture he’d taken, getting all sorts of aroused, and even as he searched for his friends’ e-mails to attach it, he just couldn’t fucking share it. He’d thought of adding something like: Say hello to my cock’s new BFF.
But he couldn’t. He went back to the picture, and his chest sort of…cramped. His wound stung like a new bullet had just pierced straight through, and it was all because this woman was so darned cute. Instead, he saved the picture under—Peyton—somehow feeling endeared that Peyton had posed for his shitty antics, then he closed his phone back up.
“What did you write to them?” she asked as she came closer.
“Something insensitive and perverted.”
She rolled her eyes and flung her arms in the air. “Luke! What on earth did I get myself into?”
Setting his phone aside, he pulled her down to his lap, feeling serious now…hot for her. Anxious for her. His voice dropped to a low, thick rasp as he nuzzled her ear. “You’ve got me all hot and bothered again. How do you do that, Peyton?”
“You’re always hot and bothered. How old are you, eighteen?”
“No, baby, you’re aging me fast. I’ll be a hundred by the time we get out of here.”
She laughed, bu
t her laugh was cut off when Luke framed her face between his palms and slammed his mouth on hers. He tongued her fast and hard and voraciously, and when she tongued him back, her taste flooded him, of sugar and lemons, making his jaw hurt and his balls ache. “Get out of that bikini,” he growled against her mouth. “I really want to fuck you now.”
His voice was odd with thick desire, but he wasn’t the only one turned on here. Peyton shuddered against him as soon as he’d said the word “fuck,” and he could see her nipples beading against her bikini top.
“Are you hard for me, Luke?” she shakily asked him, slowly standing up as she obediently started working on the back knot of her bikini top.
“Stone hard. Rock fucking hard.” He signaled to his trunks—about to tear open from the size of his throbbing dick. “Look at that, baby, and tell me it doesn’t look painful.”
