by Ellie Cahill
My other hand found its way to his hip and then up to his abs, which were deliciously angular under his skin. I shivered in surprise when he trailed a hand down my back, then stopped with his fingertips just skimming the top of my panties.
This was the precipice. I knew it. We had to decide what was going to happen from here and we had to decide fast.
Will eased back from our kiss, then left a trail of kisses along my jaw until he could whisper in my ear. “Told you.”
“Shut up.”
He chuckled, and the sound made me shiver again. Then he straightened up a little until he could look me in the eyes, his hand still tilting my face up to him. “I have to warn you. That thing I said before about it getting more awkward?”
When he said he was deliberately not noticing my underwear. “Yeah?”
“It’s super fucking awkward now.”
I started to let my fingers creep down toward his boxer-briefs, and he caught my wrist, lightning fast.
“Easy.”
“You scared?” I challenged, casting my eyes down toward the awkwardness in question.
His eyes twinkled. “Don’t try to double-dog dare me into sex, Hadley Bradley.”
“Don’t call me Hadley Bradley if you ever want to get in my pants.”
He kissed me again, a little harder this time, but in all the right ways. The flame inside me was growing hotter and brighter by the second. I made another effort to creep my hand past his waist band but he kept his grip on my wrist and smirked at me.
“So impatient.”
The shower water was getting steady cool again. The water heater was clearly running out of juice. Did we want to rush through this? Racing the shower before it ran icy?
I bit my lip. “If we stop—” I couldn’t figure out what to say. I was scared that we’d break the spell if we got out of this tiny shower stall. We might start thinking straight and decide this was a mistake. There would be so much thought involved in changing locations. It wouldn’t feel spontaneous. It wouldn’t have built in excuses.
“Sweet girl, I am a full foot taller than you. You think we can do this in here?”
“Okay.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Okay. You’re right.”
He turned the shower off, leaving us standing together, dripping wet and completely unsure. We looked at each other. I couldn’t resist steeling a glance down. He wasn’t kidding—he was rock hard. When I flicked my eyes back up like a guilty child, I found that Will was sneaking a peak down at me, too. I blushed and he grinned.
“So…now what?” I asked.
20
It Can Always Get More Awkward
Will only had one towel in the bathroom, and he let me use it first. I got somewhat dry, then stood shivering on the bare linoleum floor while he scrubbed himself dry. When he was done, he draped the towel over my head like a veil and tried to squeeze water from my hair.
“You were wrong,” I said.
His hands stilled on my head. “About what?”
“This is awkward.”
He smiled, and draped the towel around my neck. “Sure is.”
“So…”
“So.”
A thick silence stretched out between us, until I couldn’t stand it any longer. “My legs are starting to itch.”
“Mine too.” He lifted one foot to rub the sole up and down his opposite shin.
A glance at my ankles showed that my pale skin was blotchy and puffy and already starting to show off the multiple tiny red dots that would soon blister. Just what a freckle-covered girl like me needs—more spots.
“Do you think…is this a sign? Are we not supposed to…?”
Will blew out a sigh, then apparently couldn’t resist bending over to scratch his knee. “I don’t believe in signs.”
“So…?”
“So I need something for this itching. Come on.”
We picked our way back through the exposed subfloors of the torn up house, much more cautiously than we had on our way in. Finally we arrived at the garage, but Will made me stay inside until he checked for stray fire ants on the floor. Declaring it safe, he gestured for me to come out.
“Come on. I’ll give you some dry, ant-free clothes in the RV.”
“I’m not walking outside like this,” I said, gesturing to my wet bra and underwear. Thank god they were both dark and I wasn’t putting on a complete peep show.
“No one will even notice. Come on.”
“Can’t you bring them here?”
Will grinned. “Nope.”
“You are a horrible person.”
“It’s like a bathing suit. You’re fine.” He gave me a once-over. “More than fine.”
I hated the way a little frission of arousal flickered to life again inside me. I was trying to mad at him for god’s sake. Calm yourselves, ovaries. I glared at him.
Will shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He walked confidently out of the garage in his skivvies. Thank god he wasn’t sporting wood anymore.
I waited until he had the RV door open then made a run for it, scampering inside behind him. He was already at the end of the structure, near the bed, and rummaging in a compartment.
He produced another Brady Construction t-shirt, this one was black with the logo in green, and held it out to me. Then, like this was a completely normal thing to do, he peeled his wet underwear off, giving me a full view of his butt.
“Will! Jesus!” I put up a blocking hand.
He paused with a pair of dry boxers in his hand and grinned at me over his shoulder. “What?”
“I didn’t want to see that.”
“This?” He wiggled his ass.
“Oh my god. Stop.”
He stopped, but put on an expression of fake confusion. “What? You want me to turn around?”
“No!” I went wide-eyed, but couldn’t help laughing.
“Just a few minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get your hands on my goodies.”
“Just put some clothes on.”
“Suit yourself.” He stepped into his underwear, hiding his lily white butt from my view.
“You should get a little sun on that thing,” I said. “You might blind someone.” I pulled his huge shirt over my head before rolling my wet underpants down my hips. They hit the floor with a damp plop.
“Don’t do it,” Will said, suddenly all the teasing in his voice replaced by a deep, raspy tone.
“Do what?” I pulled my arms inside the sleeves and reached back for my clasp.
“The bra thing.”
“What?” The fabric didn’t want to peel away from skin at first, but I got the straps off.
“That. You’re doing it.”
“What?” I threaded the sleeves back on, bringing my bra out in my right hand.
Will squeezed his eyes shut. “Why the fuck is that so hot?”
I laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“And now you’re naked under there,” he said. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, Hadley?”
I held his eyes with mine. “What do you want to do with that?”
He winced and rubbed his right ankle with his left foot. Then he steadied one finger at me. “Do not get weird on me.”
“What does that mean?”
“I need to take something for these god damn ant bites. Doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re hot, okay?”
“What?” I couldn’t make sense of him.
He made a little growling sound and darted into the bathroom to rummage through a first aid kit for an antihistamine. When he found them, he popped one in his mouth, then brought me another.
“Trust me, you’re going to be sorry if you don’t take this,” he said. “You’re already starting to swell.”
“Okay, okay.” I put it on my tongue, and took a sip from the water bottle he brought out of the fridge. But as soon as I was done, I asked, “What did you mean, ‘don’t get weird?’”
“I know the way girls think. If I ignore you to take care of the
se fucking bites—” He interrupted himself to pull one leg up and scratch his calf. “You’ll think I’m not attracted to you.”
“Don’t scratch,” I scolded. “And trust me, you don’t know anything about the way girls think.”
He gave me an annoyed look. “My point, is that I still think you’re hot, okay? In fact, I think you’re so fucking hot, I’m actually trying to figure out if I can ignore being attacked by fire ants for you.”
I tried not to laugh, but my lips quivered with the effort. “That’s the strangest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“You’re welcome.” He cocked his head. “So, you gonna get weird on me?”
I considered. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay then.”
“Can I just ask one thing?”
“Shoot.”
“You’re saying you want me, just not right now?”
“Basically. I’m calling a Delay of Game.”
“Is that a thing?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“And you’re just assuming that I’ll go along with it?”
“Yes.”
“And that I want you, too?”
“I know you do.”
An uncomfortable combination of arousal and irritation swirled through me like a dust devil. “Pretty cocky.”
Will wrapped his fingers gently around my wrist and tugged just enough to draw me to him. With only his t-shirt between us, my entire body went tingly on contact. He buried his hand in my damp hair, angling my face up to his. He leaned closer and closer until his lips were only a millimeter from mine.
The temptation was too great, and I pressed forward to kiss him. This kiss was mine, and I took control of it, practically climbing him to get closer. Not that he minded. Oh no. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up to my toes.
Then just as I was contemplating the possibility of actually climbing him like a tree, he broke away and looked down at me. His lips were still parted and he was breathing heavily. “Told you.” It was the second time he’d said that to me after kissing me, and I scowled at him.
“Stop saying that.”
“Stop proving me right.”
I sank onto my heels, letting my hands drag over his chest as I eased away from him. There was a lot to like in that territory. He was irritatingly, effortlessly built. I knew it was doing physical labor all day, and that in reality he’d earned it, but ugh those pecs. Just stop being ripped, already. You’re gorgeous, we get it. At least he had the good sense to shiver with pleasure.
“Look,” I said, “you’re the one who kissed me in the shower. You’re the one who started this. And now you just want to be smug?”
“No. I want to do things to you. Things that will make your eyes roll back in your head. Things that will give you religion. But I’m trying to show a little common sense.”
“You’re so damn sure of yourself.”
He just cocked his head in challenge.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Prove it, then.”
He tapped his temple. “Common sense?”
“Fuck common sense.”
21
Who Needs Common Sense?
The smugness disappeared, replaced by determination. It was only a few steps to the bed, but I still don’t know how I got there. Will was fast and strong and I found myself on my back on the mattress in what felt like nothing but a blurred second. I sucked in a surprised breath.
Will put one knee on the bed between my splayed legs, and a faint wince passed over his face. I knew what he felt; the blanket felt like it was made of burlap against my ant bites. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him.
I drew my knees up, putting my feet flat on the bed as he crawled closer and dropped onto his hands above me.
“I’ve been wondering,” he said in a throaty voice, “You said not every inch of you is covered in freckles. So, where do they stop?”
“That’s right.” I licked my lips. “I only have them in places where the sun hits.”
He shifted to get one hand free and tugged the neck of the oversized t-shirt down, exposing my chest. “Plenty of sun here.”
I nodded.
He bent low and kissed my breastbone. I tried not to squirm, but my body seemed to have a mind of its own.
Will released my collar and instead hooked one finger into a sleeve and pulled it up to expose my arm. “All freckles here.” He nuzzled his nose against my arm and kissed my shoulder. “Where are you hiding this unfreckled skin of yours?” he mused teasingly.
He sank back onto his haunches and surveyed my legs. “Those bugs got you good, Hads.” His fingertips skimmed my thighs. “Not so bad up here. And oh, look at this. Not so many freckles either.”
It was only thanks to the sheer size of his t-shirt on my smaller frame that I wasn’t totally exposed to him in this position. But I was still showing off plenty of thigh, and he was right—the freckles faded quickly right around the spot where my shorts stopped.
“Keep going,” I said softly.
His right hand disappeared under the t-shirt, palming my hip, and then smoothing over my lower stomach so that his fingertips dipped into my navel and his wrist grazed my pubic bone. My breath caught and I grabbed a fistful of blanket.
“Up here?” he asked.
“Uh huh.”
“Up here?” He drove his hand up my stomach until his fingertips just touched the bottom of my left breast.
“Yes.” I squirmed, dying for more contact.
“Here?” He inched higher, cupping my breast and giving a gentle squeeze.
“God damn it, Will.” I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down on top of me. He was big, and heavy, and he felt fantastic. Our mouths found each other, and we kissed. He rolled without breaking the kiss, and I ended up on top of him. That was just fine with me.
We made out like teenagers, barely remembering to come up for air. I hadn’t want to kiss someone so much, so hard, so deep in years. My body was restless, unable to be still against him. His hands were all over me, caressing and then grabbing tight. He found the bottom of the t-shirt and tugged it up, exposing my ass to the air until he covered it with his hands and squeezed, pulling me tighter against his hips.
The strangeness of being with Will Brady was quickly evaporating. He wasn’t my childhood friend, or my crush’s little brother anymore, he was the person responsible for setting me on fire. And I wanted him to be the person responsible for quenching that fire.
I pushed myself up on my hands, and he understood instantly, slipping the big t-shirt off. I was left completely naked in broad daylight. It should have been terrifying, but I wanted him to see me.
He ran his hands over the curves of my hips and sides and smiled. “No freckles,” he said as he covered my breasts with his big hands.
“Just a few,” I agreed.
“Very cute.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I hate cute.”
“Too bad.” Those big hands curved around my ribs and he pulled me down to kiss me again. The feeling of his bare chest against mine was pure delight, but short lived as he tilted to his side, depositing me on the mattress beside him. He took his time looking at me, tracing the shape of me, using his lips and tongue to trace the same paths.
I was squirming, digging my fingers into the bed, and burning with need by the time his made his way up my inner thigh. Of course Will Brady would be into the long tease. All he’d done his whole life was tease me.
“Jesus fucking Christ, just touch me already.”
He grinned. “I’ve done nothing but touch you.”
I raised my head to glare at him. “You know what I mean.”
“Maybe you should tell me, just so I can be sure.”
There was no way I was going to keep playing his game. I grabbed his hand off my thigh and pressed it down hard between my legs. My back arched involuntarily and I sighed with relief.
“Eyes rolling back in head, check,” he said.
“Shut up,” I said through gritted teeth.
He laughed softly, but didn’t say anything else. For a little while anyway. Instead he focused on doing. Doing all the right things with his hands and his mouth until I was open-mouthed but silent, my body wound tighter than a clock spring, a firework of pleasure with its fuse lit, burning inside me.
“Oh god,” I gasped. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” And then the fuse reached the good stuff, and I exploded.
The pleasure ripped through me like a hurricane-force wind, tearing a high-pitched sound from my throat and causing my body to roll like ocean waves. When it finally eased, I collapsed bonelessly onto the mattress, panting.
“Religion,” he said. “Check.”
My eyes popped open. “If you expect me to return the favor, you might want to stop being such a pain in the ass.”
“But you’re so cute when you’re pissed off.” Will stretched out beside me and tried to kiss me, but I put one finger against his lips.
“I hate cute.”
“Noted.” He grinned. “Now, you were saying something about returning the favor?”
“It was only if you stopped being a pain in the ass.”
He rolled on top of me again, propped on his elbows to look down at me. He was still in his boxer shorts, but that didn’t stop him from rocking his hips against mine in just the right way.
“Is that better?” he asked.
I made an incoherent sound before I managed to find words. “Yeah, maybe.”
He stayed there, slowly rocking against me and giving me kisses that matched the intensity.
“Do you have a condom?” I asked. Normally, I’d have one, but this was the last thing I thought I’d be doing when I came to a construction site.
“Yeah, just a second.” Will crawled to the edge of the bed to look in the nightstand. There was the sound of rummaging, then a pause, then louder rummaging, then a curse, and frantic rummaging.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Box is empty,” he growled, holding up a familiar black box.
