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“Any news?” I typed out.
“Good morning, sir. No, nothing yet. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”
“Thank you, Melanie.”
“Have a good vacation, sir. Best wishes to your sister.” The final text came through, and I dumped the phone on my bed and walked to the balcony doors, stripping off my shirt as I went, my thoughts turning to Summer again. And again. And a-fucking-gain.
A couple minutes with her had unseated years of setting aside the past. It had also messed up my concentration.
Goddamn, but her ass, though. She’d been dancing, turning in circles, swaying those perfect, tan hips, her long, honey-gold hair swaying down her back, brushing against her skin. I pictured running my fingers through it, catching it and tugging, ever-so-gently, guiding her toward me, bringing my mouth down on hers and claiming her…
My dick twitched and demanded attention.
“Cold shower,” I muttered, undoing my belt.
I wasn’t about to let Summer get into my head, not like this.
A knock rattled my room door, and I redid my belt, arranged myself downstairs, and went to open up.
Summer stood out in the hall, her arms folded beneath her ample breasts, and her sea-green eyes ablaze. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
“I’m guessing any answer I give won’t suffice,” I replied in a monotone, trying to ignore the fact that she didn’t have a bra on. She didn’t have a bra on. My dick rolled and grew thicker. “So, why don’t you tell me what you think I’m doing, and I’ll confirm or deny whether that’s true.”
“Oh, you’re funny. You’re a real funny, funny man.” Summer marched forward. She pressed a hand to my chest and moved like she wanted to force me backward into the hotel room.
I didn’t budge. It was like she’d run into a wall.
“If you’d like to come in,” I said, “you could ask.”
Summer’s hand remained on my chest, but she quit applying pressure. She swallowed, dryly. “We need to talk about this.”
“About what?” I asked, refusing to budge.
Letting people into my space wasn’t a forte of mine. I’d spent years sharing barracks with other men, but my bed had been my sanctity, and I’d carried that belief through to everywhere I’d lived since. Summer in my room would mean Summer naked. Summer whining. Summer begging for more, wet and swollen.
“About…look, do you really want to get caught out in the hall? What if Emilia sees us?”
It was the question we’d asked each other back when she’d been eighteen and I’d been about to enlist.
I stepped back and allowed her entrance.
Her fingertips lifted from my chest but left a pattern of heat there, little spots I longed to stroke away. Control yourself. She’s just an old fling. But that tasted like a lie, even to me.
I shut the door behind her.
Summer marched toward the balcony but stopped before she reached the doors. She spun around and started pacing back and forth. “You just had to get a room on the same floor as me. You had to. I hope you don’t think I’m going to fall for this.”
“For what?” I asked, bemusement taking my concentration from those perfect breasts.
“For this. This thing that you’re doing. If you think I’m going to sleep with you again, you’re crazy. Do you hear me?”
“Summer,” I said, “I’m here for Emmy’s wedding. I have no interest in being with you, whatsoever.”
She froze midstride and grew red all over again. She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Good. That’s good. Because that’s the last thing I want. I just thought we should get that clear before we…proceed with the weekend. I don’t want you harboring any illusions. Because I have a lot going on in my life.”
I knew about that. Em had filled me in, though I’d never asked. Summer was in financial trouble, Summer needed help—they were common themes and had been since we were kids and Summer came to stay with our family.
None of it was her fault. She’d been dealt a shitty lot in life, but that didn’t mean I’d pity her or try to get closer to her.
This week in paradise was about my sister and about ensuring that everything went off without a hitch. Potential hitches that I had introduced by virtue of my business.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Summer asked.
“No reason,” I replied. “Just wondering why you thought it was necessary to march down the hall and tell me this shit.”
Her gaze flickered to my chest, to the tattoos there, and she licked her lips, shifting on the spot. “I just wanted us to be on the same page. The past is the past.”
“I agree,” I said. “The past is the past. There’s no going back, and I’m sure that neither of us would want that.” But I was still rock-hard and twitching for her. Given that I wasn’t the smallest guy around, it had to be obvious.
