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Abby blushes. “Well, I didn’t say anything about Levi, but if that were to happen, I think he’d be a phenomenal father.”
“Definitely. And think of all the sex, Abs. You’d be like Lexi, humping everything like a Chihuahua,” I say before sticking my straw into my mouth.
“Not everything, AJ. Just one specific something.” Lexi gets that ornery smirk on her face and I can tell exactly what that something is, and it’s attached midsection to the man standing not fifteen feet away.
“Are we going to start talking about sex now? I feel like I need another drink for this,” I say, turning and looking for my cooler.
“What’s the matter? You no longer a fan of the sex?” Payton asks, calling it the sex the way our grandma always does.
“Oh, I’m a huge fan of it. Just wish I could find some worth talking about,” I grumble as I mix the pineapple juice in with Malibu Rum.
“Well, don’t look now, but I think Dexter is making faces at you,” Meghan says, trying not to giggle.
When I glance up, the drummer wiggles his tongue suggestively and throws me a dirty grin. My stomach actually clenches and the contents consider making a reappearance. “Gross.”
“What, not interested in another ride on the Dexter pogo stick?” Payton laughs.
“Maybe you should. I bet you could get a good two or three minute power nap in again this time,” Lexi adds, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
“Ha ha,” I grumble, trying to push that horrible night out of my mind. It was last year when I finally decided to give in to his constant advances. Little did I know that he’d be maxed out at two minutes of grunting and pounding before finding his own release. It was so bad, I dozed off there about halfway through. Shit, even trying to pretend he was Chris Hemsworth didn’t do anything but ensure I had to rename my vibrator to Channing Tatum when I bought him. Chris was so out after that.
“Wait, what happened to that guy you left with last month?” Abby asks.
Oh. Him.
The night is a bit foggy, but I could never forget him.
Sawyer.
“Oh, you know, just another guy in town for the summer,” I say blasé, trying to look for a quick subject change. “So are you ready for the shower next month?” I ask my youngest, most pregnantest sister.
Lexi’s eyebrows shoot into her hair, but she doesn’t call me on the blatant subject change. Thank God. “I’m ready. Linkin has been so amazing, getting everything set up and ready.”
“Did you really make him paint the room three times?” Meghan asks.
“It’s not my fault that the first two shades of yellow looked like smashed bananas and pee,” Lexi defends.
“I heard he didn’t complain once when she changed the color three times,” Jaime says with a smile.
“He didn’t,” Lexi says, a soft blush staining her cheeks.
“Looks like someone’s getting road-head tonight,” Payton chides, grinning like a fool.
“Can’t,” Lexi pouts. “There’s no more car sex until after the babies. I can’t bend over the console.”
They keep debating the pros and cons of car sex, but my mind wanders elsewhere. To that night.
The truth is I could never call Sawyer a summer fling. First off, you’d have to have sex to constitute a fling, right? And, well, I’m just not ready to spill the details of that fateful night, one month ago, to my sisters. It’s too embarrassing.
When I close my eyes, I can still picture his ocean blue eyes and feel the way his brown hair slid through my fingers. I followed him from the bar, eager to spend a little naked alone time with him. When we stepped onto the sidewalk, his fingers were warm and slightly rough as they wrapped around mine. He pulled me gently toward a car, a nice one that said rich trust fund. Inside, I melted against the butter-soft seats, high on hormones and anticipation.
We didn’t speak as he drove down the beach to a nice hotel. The nicest hotel in town. He hopped out of the car and came around to my side, extending his hand to help me out of the car in a total gentlemanly move I hadn’t seen in a long time. My head was swimming and my stomach churning, but I kept praying it was because of the man beside me.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
I remember everything about the kiss. It started sweet and soft, even as electricity started to course through my blood. His hands, my God those hands, swept up my jaw, caressing my skin before making their way into my hair. I’ve never wanted someone to pull my hair as badly as I wanted him to.
The kiss quickly turned ravenous. It was wild and electric and everything a kiss should be. His tongue stroked mine, probing into my mouth with so much expertise and efficiency that my knees started to get weak. My back pressed firmly into the side of the car. His powerful thighs framed my legs, keeping me from melting into a pile of hormonal mush at his feet. He was tall–so freaking tall–towering over me like a possessive giant.
