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She catches me staring and clears her throat, dragging my attention away from the soft dip of her stomach.
“Do you want tattoos?” I ask, trying to knock the mental image of my fingers running over her body out of my mind.
“Can’t think of anything I’d want permanently etched onto me.”
“If you ever do, be sure it’s something that makes you happy. You’ll have to see it every day.” I shift around, trying to be more discreet about the lengthening in my shorts. Am I actually getting hard from such a sweet conversation? “Unless you get one on your ass. I bet the outline of my teeth would look so good there.”
“Your obsession with my ass is bordering on unhealthy.”
Yes, I am entirely obsessed with her ass.
And her perfect breasts. Her curves. Her dark hair. Her achingly gorgeous pout.
Every fucking inch, Lily.
I wrap my hand around one of her palms, and bring it to my forehead, pretending to check my temperature. “Do you have a cure, doctor?”
“I’m afraid it’s chronic.” Lily slides out of my grasp again. “Are you hiding an ass tattoo?”
“Maybe.”
“What the fuck?” She sits up, her back straightening. “How did I not once notice? I need to see it right now.”
“Are you begging to see my ass?”
She clasps her fingers together. “Please, Nico, let me see your posterior.”
“I’ll be honest, I’m a bit insulted you’ve dug your nails into most of me, but haven’t caught my ass tattoo.”
“I obviously didn’t look hard enough.” Lily exhales. “It’s very easy to get distracted by a nine-inch dick in your face.”
That’s not what I expected to come out of her mouth at all. I know I’m well-endowed, but Lily’s never mentioned it before. I figured it was because she didn’t want to acknowledge craving the feel of me inside her. “Did you measure it while I was sleeping?”
“Oh, enough.” Her palm collides with my arm. “Take the first andonlycompliment I’ll give you without acting as if those inches suck the blood out of your brain like every other prick.”
And I love how she checks my ego.
“I’ll have to give you a look at my ass tattoo tonight. Now, get over here so I can return the favor and protect your precious skin.” I grab the bottle of sunscreen sitting between us.
“I applied an hour ago, and I’ve been under the shade.”
I uncap the bottle before squirting the lotion onto my hands. “The sun is wild these days, haven’t you heard? The rays can practically go through the umbrellas.”
“Fine…” She turns around reluctantly, and I’m thrilled to touch her again. “Only because if I get any more freckles, I’ll look like a Dalmatian.”
“You know, pretty girl”—I work my hands into the muscles of her neck—“every time I see a new freckle on your skin, it becomes my friend. They’reallmy friends.”
Lily’s body goes rigid. I wish I could see the look on her face.
“I’m going to need to start writing down all your one-liners,” she says.
“Who are you planning to use them on?” My curiosity swells into defensiveness. It’s almost nauseating how quickly my mood changes when I think about her with someone else.
“Such a jealous boy.” Lily laughs and turns back to catch my scowl. “I’ll be sure to jot them down just to get a rise out of you.”
Maybe I am a bit green, but she doesn’t need to rub it in.
All of this talk of writing may be the perfect opportunity to explore the theory I have about what Lily has been getting up to on her computer all summer. That website name hasn’t left my mind and I’ve done enough digging online to start piecing together the evidence.
