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“Two words,” Kristen said. “Hot tub. Spa bath. Whatever you call it here in the US of A.”
“Hot tub,” Lily and Emma both replied and laughed.
Kristen and Harper were both kiwis, and she’d already heard them use different names for things that sounded foreign or made no sense.
“Good idea,” Emma said, and as the three girls chatted, Lily reached down into her beach bag and grabbed her phone. She found the name she wanted, then typed out a text.
I’m covered in bruises. Emma noticed and thinks I’ve been sexually abused. *frown emoji* Can you get some Arnica cream? I can’t have them walking down the aisle.
How short is this bridesmaid’s dress?
Lily actually frowned.
Don’t be silly. You were rough in other places.
I wasn’t rough. I was in control. Did I bruise your neck?
Lily chewed her lip. She wasn’t sure.
Maybe. I’m on the beach.
Take a photo and send it to me.
I’m not sexting you.
Peaches, I’m not asking you to spread your legs and play with your clit. I’m asking for a photo of your neck.
Jesus.
Her core clenched at his dirty mouth. Or rather fingers. She’d had a good dose of both already.
Stop blushing. You liked it.
Ugh.
She angled the camera and took a photo. Emma saw her and, thinking she was taking selfies, jumped in.
Next, Harper and Kristen joined in and then Harper's security guy, David, was given her camera and was instructed to take a group shot.
“Ah, Lily. Someone is messaging you.” He smirked.
She grabbed the phone.
Shit.
Her notifications were set to permanent banner, so it was sitting right at the top of her screen for David to see.
Oh, dear God.
If you’re playing with that pussy, you’re in trouble. Send me the photos.
Heat filled her face, and she glanced up at him. Fortunately, the girls had gone back to their beach bags and were pulling on their clothes.
David lifted his hand and did the international lips-sealed action.
She gave him an uncomfortable smile, then fired off a few photos to Aidan.
Can you get the Arnica please?
