by Hayleigh Sol
I sighed. “But there’s just something so fantastic about a good, hard dick.” Garrett, who’d been taking another drink, sputtered into his glass.
Ashley belly–laughed and threw a hand up for a high–five. Kevin practically drooled, observing us as if he were hoping we’d start making out any second. I was strangely proud, if that was the right word for it, that Garrett wasn’t having the same clichéed guy response. Neither was Noah, for that matter.
How refreshing.
We played another couple of rounds until Tracie mentioned the morning plans to go apple–picking. There’d be a tour and tasting at the local cider factory after, then a hayride out to a pumpkin patch where we’d choose our own pumpkins to carve. It was all a little Martha Stewart for me, but Tracie’s excitement actually had me looking forward to a day on the farm.
Lord, next thing you know, I’ll be going antiquing.
Our motley crew headed upstairs, Kevin heroically supporting a stumbling Ashley to her room. Garrett must’ve seen that Kev wasn’t terribly steady, either, and he stayed close enough behind the pair to catch them if they missed a step. I’d been matching my booze with water for the last hour; otherwise, I’d likely be in a similar condition.
I noticed Garrett’s gaze swivel between them and me, making sure all his little ducklings were making it safely to the second floor. It was thoughtful and sweet of him. And it turned me on. In a prehistoric trust the protective male kind of way.
“Oh, Garrett, would you mind checking my window? I couldn’t get it open earlier.” Ashley was leaning against the door frame with a slight pout to her lips, eyes heavy and cheeks slightly flushed from tequila. Even I thought she made a tempting picture.
Garrett cast a look my way, then back to her. “I think it’s supposed to be around forty degrees tonight. Are you sure you want it open?”
She assured him she did and, with a final glance my way, he followed her into the room. Tracie and Noah had disappeared into their master suite first and Kevin’s door was closing to my right. I was alone in the hallway, feeling like a dope.
I didn’t like it. Didn’t like that I was feeling jealousy over Garrett again and trying to tell myself he wasn’t going to sleep with Ashley. At least not while I was in the same house. But I didn’t know that for certain and it was bugging the crap out of me. Her door was still open, which was a good sign, I told myself as I closed the door to my own room.
Annoyed with myself, I lingered, nearly pressing my ear to the wood that was so stupidly thick I couldn’t hear a thing from the hallway beyond. Several minutes passed and I thought I heard the sound of a door closing. I exhaled in relief. Until I realized I hadn’t heard its echo from the room next door. Garrett’s room. Where he should’ve gone after leaving Ashley’s.
My temper went from zero to sixty in seven–tenths of a second. I had a hand on the knob, ready to storm past the five or six doors between Ashley’s room and mine and confront the cheating bastard.
But that was the problem. He wasn’t cheating, not technically. We had no exclusivity agreement, no strings. Just fun stuff and hanging out, my own words came back to mock me.
Feeling sick at the thought of them together, of him kissing her and touching her the way he did me, I thumped my forehead on the door. This was why I didn’t spend enough time with the guys I hooked up with to get to know and like them. Or, as Maya had said, I only spent a limited amount of time with guys I knew I wouldn’t be interested in for longer than that.
And, as much as I’d been fighting it, I did like Garrett. Too much.
I pushed off the door, my joints feeling as if they’d aged thirty years in the time I’d been leaning against it. Two trudging steps toward the bed, I thought I heard… Was that a door closing?
Frozen in place, I held my breath, straining to hear over the heartbeat in my ears. I stood like that until I had to inhale, having heard nothing more in the quiet house. As I washed my face, I debated with myself over what I’d heard and whether or not I’d convinced myself it was the sound of a door because that was what I wanted to hear.
It might not have even been his door.
Flossing with furrowed brow, I asked my own image in the mirror if I really thought Garrett was the type to sleep with one woman when his latest hookup was down the hall. Then I wondered just how drunk Garrett was.
Not very, if he was making sure the rest of us managed to navigate the tricky stairs.
Paying attention to allotting thirty seconds of brushing to each quadrant of my teeth was a lost cause as I stared off into space, alternately hoping he was in bed alone and admonishing myself that there was no way a single dude would turn down a hot chick offering him a good time.
But he hasn’t really shown any interest in Ashley before, right?
I crawled between the cool sheets, wishing fleetingly for the electric blanket I had at home with its glorious pre–heat function that took the chill off if I remembered to turn it on before I went to bed. Or a warm body to snuggle up to.
Great, now he’s got me thinking about snuggles.
Closing my eyes, I willed myself to think about anything but the man down the hall—and whichever room he was currently occupying.
For a few minutes, I thought about my friend getting married and how the big day was only a few weeks away. Tracie seemed to be taking it all in stride, nowhere near as anxious—almost panicky—as I’d been when my wedding day had loomed ever closer.
Should’ve seen that as a sign, genius.
At the time, I’d told myself my nerves were typical jitters. Thinking of walking down the aisle to forever had made me break out in a sweat, but visualizing how handsome Aaron would be in a tux had helped.
Garrett in a tux…yummy. That was a part of the wedding I was definitely looking forward to. He had the broad shoulders and height to wear the hell out of a tux.
My mind started to drift, imagining helping him dress, then undress, on the day. I slapped my cheek in an attempt at aversion therapy.
Not thinking about Garrett, dammit.
Instead, I forced my attention to thoughts of how close Tracie’s team was on the new website and app for my business. With our current timeline, it looked like I’d be set to do a soft launch in the next few weeks, iron out any kinks, and have it up and running for Black Friday. Since it wasn’t a retail store, the biggest online shopping weekend of the year was a moveable target. My hope, though, was to launch with the idea that people would want a style consultant for holiday parties at work or for family gatherings. Maybe they’d already be thinking about starting the new year with a new look.
Wonder what Garrett’s doing for New Year’s Eve.
I rolled my eyes at myself. That hadn’t lasted very long.
Rationalizing my next moves as necessary if I hoped to get any sleep tonight, I pulled on a hoodie over my camisole. The shorts I slept in, when I wasn’t home alone and naked, were this side of indecent but at least the sweatshirt hid my nipples’ eagerness to announce to the world that I wasn’t wearing a bra. Not that I was expecting to run into anyone else prowling the hallway at this time of night.
Tiptoeing to the door, I pressed my ear against the wood once more. I eased it open and peered into the darkened hallway, lit by the moon coming in through two tall windows and a couple of nightlights on either end. Not a creature was stirring, except this little mouse.
As I started down the wide runner, fairly certain I knew which room Garrett was in, I glanced down the hallway in both directions repeatedly, freezing like the world’s worst cat burglar at every unidentifiable sound. Continuing on tiptoe, I felt like a horny teenager sneaking around, hoping not to get caught by my parents.
Or like one of the characters from that Michael J. Fox eighties flick, especially in this massive house with all these rooms. Which was ridiculous. I was a thirty–two year old, unattached adult with no curfew, on the prowl for consensual sex with the unatta
ched, hunky man down the hall. Nothing to be embarrassed or sneaky about.
When the distinctive sound of a door opening sounded in front of me, I froze again, then darted into a small alcove that was home to a tall ficus. Not that its narrow trunk would do anything to conceal me in my light shorts that may as well have been glowing in the darkness. A shadowy figure stopped in front of my pathetic hiding spot.
I’d have wondered who it was if I hadn’t heard Kevin’s muttering about where “the damn bathroom” was. I nearly leaned out and reminded him there was one in his room, but that would’ve blown my cover.
Ha, what cover?
Kevin seemed to be having a debate with himself, mumbling rather adorably, as he shifted his feet back the way they’d come, then again toward me. I’d resigned myself to being outed when he either remembered where the bathroom was on his own or changed his mind about needing the facilities. He turned around, marched past me, and went back inside his room.
As I took a deep breath in and out, I untangled my hair from a branch that had been getting fresh, its leaves finding their ticklish way to my cleavage. A stray leaf floated down from my shoulder and I had to stifle a giggle at the absurdity of the situation. Peeking into the empty hallway once more, my helpful brain supplied me with the iconic soundtrack.
Doo–Bow–Bow. Ohhh yeah.
I was outside Garrett’s door, trying to decide if he—or anyone else—would hear if I made a little scratching sound, when the door next to his swung open and another midnight explorer appeared in front of me.
Chip–chippy–chickaahh.
Chapter 19
“Bailey!” Ashley whisper–shouted, before realizing where she was and lowering the decibels to true whisper mode. “Oh my God, you nearly gave me a heart attack. What are you doing here?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Just on my way to the kitchen for some water.”
Nice quick thinking, brain.
Ashley looked pointedly at the door we were standing outside and back to me.
Sherlock sure sobered up fast.
Wait a minute.
“How about you, couldn’t sleep?”
Her arms were crossed under her breasts, which were plumped up invitingly in a Victoria’s Secret satin–and–lace number I myself had considered buying the last time I went bra shopping. At my redirect, she dropped the accusing pose. “Oh, uh, same. I’ll come with you.”
Aw, hell.
We traipsed downstairs, me and my shadow, both of us pretending we hadn’t been after the exact same thing in that hallway. Waters in hand, we made a show of gulping down several refreshing swallows before retracing our route. Avoiding eye contact, with Ashley and with Garrett’s door, I saluted her with my glass and returned to my room.
It looked like I was sleeping alone after all. At least her scantily–clad presence in the hallway had confirmed Garrett’s whereabouts. I opened and shut my door with a satisfied smile, turned around, and stifled a scream.
“Thought it was your friend who scares so easily.”
Lowering the hand that had involuntarily planted itself over my heart—why do we do that anyway?—I used it to smack the shirtless beefcake in front of me. Right on his deliciously solid pecs.
“Ow, what was that for?”
I shook my head and brushed past him. “Just seemed like the right thing to do.” Setting my glass of water on a wicker accent table, I turned back and faced my visitor. “What are you doing in here? Besides scaring the living hell out of me.”
He smiled that sexy smile, muscles flexing as he walked toward me.
He had to be doing that on purpose.
“I’m here so you can take advantage of me. Remember? We agreed on the flight over.”
For a moment, I nearly told him we hadn’t actually agreed to that. Then, I thought, fuck it. And hurled my body at his. He caught me with an “oomph” but wasted no time in meeting my hungry kisses with his own, lips and tongue and teeth battling for dominance.
Using his shoulders for leverage, I jumped up and wrapped my legs around his waist. He caught and held me, wide palms under my ass. His tense fingers landed on the heated flesh under the edge of my skimpy shorts, drawing a low moan from deep in his chest. Our centers were lined up and I felt the ridge of his arousal pressing against my most sensitive spot, but it still felt like we weren’t close enough.
There were too many layers between us. An annoyance that lasted only as long as it took for Garrett to walk us back to the bed and lower himself on top of me. Our haste to yank clothes off ourselves and each other while our mouths remained fused was sloppy and uncoordinated at best.
At worst, we probably looked like we were in the middle of a fierce Brazilian Jiu–Jitsu competition. Only, our grappling allowed each of us to win submission points over the other in equal measure.
We raced to the finish, single–minded in our efforts to drive the other to new heights. My nerve endings had never felt so awake, every part of me alive, as we achieved what I’d only experienced twice before in my life, though never as intense as with Garrett. Climaxes so perfectly in sync they seemed to last an eternity.
My head dropped onto his shoulder, his hands still fastened to my hips. We’d ended our tussle with him sitting on the edge of the mattress, me on his lap in the naughty version of the scene I’d pictured when we first met.
Between heavy breaths, his lips pressed to my neck. “Fun times for sure.”
It made me chuckle and I leaned back and planted a smacking kiss on his lips. “Yeah, we’re definitely doing that again.”
The sunrise glinting off the ocean was as gorgeous as I’d predicted last night when I’d left my curtains open. What I hadn’t predicted was how much I’d wish they were closed so I could claim more than three hours of sleep.
“When I slice off a digit carving pumpkins this afternoon, I’m blaming you,” I mumbled with my eyes still screwed shut against the evil sunrise.
Garrett leaned over the bed and dropped a kiss on the sex–gnarled hair atop my head. “No falling asleep with sharp utensils, my sweet. I’d better sneak out of here before anyone catches my…stroll of pride.”
I cracked one eye open and attempted to focus on his smiling face. “Did you just wordplay walk of shame at ass o’clock in the morning?” His grin deepened and I scowled at it before turning away from both the sun and Garrett’s handsome face, burying my head in my pillow instead. “You have issues.”
He laughed, though I couldn’t be certain he’d heard my grumble through pillowcase and memory foam, and kissed the shell of my ear. “See you at breakfast, beautiful. Fair warning, my sister’s been known to burst in and pounce on the unsuspecting when she’s decided it’s time to get up.”
“Mmrrmph.”
Captain Cheerful chuckled again and left me to my reluctant waking. A hot shower, particularly the part where I let the adjustable showerhead pummell my sore neck and shoulder muscles, had me feeling halfway human. A seven–hour flight, followed by tequila, followed by hours of sexing and only a handful of hours of sleep, did not make for a perky Bailey. In my twenties—even the latter half—I could’ve bounced back, no problem. Thirty–two was a spiteful bitch.
I hadn’t gone for the run on the beach I’d planned this morning, but a walk in the ocean air with a gallon of green tea could still work. And the silent and still house told me I might actually be the first one up.
My bare foot hit the bottom step when I heard Tracie’s familiar laughter from the other side of one of the sofas in the living room. Before I could detour to say my good mornings, I registered the blonde head above the back of the cushions. Noah had dark hair.
“There’s no use in denying it, big brother. I saw you sneaking out of her room this morning.”
Rats.
Garrett reached over and covered her mouth, exactly like my older brother had done to me my enti
re life. Aaand, just like I always did to Dustin—
“Gross, did you seriously just lick me?” He wiped the palm of his hand on what I assumed was her shoulder.
Heh, big brothers. Would they ever learn?
“Look, do me a favor and don’t mention this to Bailey, okay?”
“Why not? I think you two would be awesome together. She’s sassy, which is exactly what you need – a woman who challenges you. And you can make her laugh at herself whenever she’s pretending to be Oscar the Grouch – just like I do.”
She had a point. Just like my childhood besties, Tracie had figured out how to get me to lighten up when I needed to. So had Garrett, a little voice whispered in the back of my mind.
“We’re just having fun, keeping it light.”
Hearing the easy way he described our situation, well, it bugged me. I should’ve been relieved that we were on the same page. But I was…annoyed. Maybe it was his nonchalance, like the thought of us being more than casual and temporary hadn’t even entered his mind. And dummy that I was, I’d been so convinced, more than once, that he wanted more.
But this was why people warned against eavesdropping; you really were likely to hear something you wouldn’t like.
“So this has been going on longer than last night, I take it.”
“Would I be a gentleman if I spilled all the details?” He booped her on the nose, making me smile. They were so like Dustin and me.
“Fine,” Tracie grumbled. “At least tell me this: was ‘keeping it light’ your idea or hers?”
After looking up the stairs to ensure none of the other houseguests were on their way down, I leaned in, curious about Garrett’s response. There was a half–wall I was partially hidden behind. If Tracie or Garrett left the living room, or even if they gave more than a cursory glance behind them, they’d spot me.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
Garrett huffed out a breath. “Swear to me this stays between us. I mean it, Trace.”
“Swear.”
“Bailey’s…”
