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As his mouth keeps devouring mine, skillful and hungry, his hands are definitely looking for more. The hand that isn’t caressing my breast travels down to my ass, and as he grabs one of my buttocks, he pulls me closer to him. He’s hard everywhere, from his ripped chest to his toned stomach and the growing bulge in the slacks of his uniform.
It’s crazy how Tristan’s touch was repulsive, but this is making me want more. I want to feel Matt’s hands everywhere.
“No,” I groan when he stops kissing and touching me and takes one step away from me.
We stand in my room, our breathing equally labored, as we stare each other down. “Greer,” he pants. “I—this… Fuck! I shouldn’t have done—”
I interrupt him. “No, I wanted you to. I mean, Iwantyou to.”
He steps closer again, one of his hands brushing against my cheekbone as his green eyes bore into mine still full of heat.
“I need to go, Greer. I have to get back to work before I do something I can’t take back, and it’s better this way. Like I said, I need this job, pretty girl.”
I open my mouth to tell him that what happens between us has nothing to do with the fact that he works for my father. I don’t even know if it’s true or not, all I know is that I don’t want him to say that this was wrong, because it wasn’t. It felt right.
But I never get to say anything because his phone buzzes again, and he emits a pained sound. “Like I said, I need to go. I’m late to help set up for the luau.”
He’s already walking away, his hand on the doorknob. “See you later, Greer.”
Brady
Iknow a fucking guilty expression when I see one.
Especially when it’s plastered all over one of my best friends’ faces.
I’ve known Matt since we were barely out of diapers, and mark my goddamn words, I know he fucked up. I mean, I’m the expert on fucking up, so I recognize that kind of guilt from a mile away.
I don’t know when or how, but guilt is in every feature of his face, in every one of his movements, and in every fucking word that comes out of his mouth.
We just finished helping Drew set up everything for the luau that’s about to start, and we’re back in our cottage to change into the ridiculous straw skirts we’re required to wear for tonight’s party.
“Aw,” he complains as he fastens the skirt over his speedo-clad body. “I’ve never felt more exploited in my entire life. When I applied for the chauffeur job, I never would have guessed I’d end up in a fucking skirt.”
“What the fuck did you do, Matt?” I challenge him.
And fuck if I’m wrong, because the outraged expression on his face confirms my first hunch.
He has the nerve to feign ignorance, his tone laced with defensiveness. “I don’t know what—”
“Hey guys, are you ready? There are a few things that need to be done last minute, but if you two could help…” Drew steps into the living room in a clean, crisp, black chef’s coat, but he immediately stops in his tracks when he sees the tense standoff between Matt and me. “What the fuck’s going on here?” Yup. He’s known Matt just as long as I have, and he notices too. “Matt, whatever you’ve done, I hope it’s not…”
His voice fades away as he meets my gaze, coming to the same conclusion I just reached.
We both know why he got out of helping with the party all day. He was out with…
“What did you do to Greer?” I ask, and bingo! The motherfucker doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.
“I didn’t do anythingtoGreer,” he says with a hard stare.
Drew shakes his dark head, folding his arms over his chest. “Right. What did you dowithGreer? And don’t you fucking bother lying because it’s written all over your face. So you better start talking, dude.”
“I kissed her.” His eyes are downcast, and rightly so.
Drew is the first one to react. “What the fuck? Matt, aren’t we already in enough trouble? How do you think losing your job will help our fucking situation?”
“She kissed me!” he protests, trying to explain his way out of his monumental fuck up. “Well fuck, she kissed mefirst. What was I supposed to do? Have you seen Greer? I’m not made of fucking stone. I just—”
“Dude, she’s the boss’s daughter! If we aren’t allowed to fuck around with guests, what makes you think that kissing Greer would be okay? If Mr. Manning found out you touched his daughter, we’ll not only lose Sam’s Shack, we’ll be fucking homeless and broke. I seriously thought you were smarter than this.”
