“Something like that.” His eyes lower to mine. A fire burns in them, and it’s all for me. Bryson holds up his phone victoriously. “My dad had an emergency at the Ice Bar, and my mom is graciously spending the night up there to help out with the details. Refrigeration unit is down. The place is literally melting.” His chest rumbles at the thought.
“Do you have to go?”
“And miss out on us having the house all to ourselves? Not a chance.”
My heart thumps so loud I can practically hear it reverberating off the walls. “What about Annie?” There’s a slight rise of panic brewing in me. Tonight might be the night, and, now, all I can think about is how I’m going to sneak off and shave my legs—not to mention more intricate and delicate places that he talked about landing those lips on. Those kisses he talked about last night made my skin flush and my toes curl in every good way. I can’t imagine doing that with Bryson. It scares and exhilarates me all at the same time.
Bryson leans in. His hotter-than-hell smile takes over for just a moment.
“Annie is spending the night at Kaya’s house.” He brushes his finger over the side of my cheek, and an electrical current races through me.
Holyshit.
“What do you think we should do?” My voice shakes as I ask the question. My mind races with all kinds of deliciously pornographic possibilities. My head feels light and fuzzy, and suddenly it feels as if I could pass out if I wanted.
Okay. Don’t panic. If he green-lights operation deflower-power I’ll simply jump in the shower. Then I’ll put on my Whitney Briggs shorts—no wait, I wore those last night. I think I have a pair of thongs, but then I might as well be naked, and, for sure, I don’t have a decent bra for him to see me in. Crap. This is never going to work. Wait, people don’t wear clothes while having sex, so all of the aforementioned fashion blunders aren’t even necessary. My body pulsates like one giant heartbeat while my girl parts pound against my brain trying to get me on board with the idea of sleeping with him tonight.
“What do you think we should do?” He tucks his head back a notch, and I can tell he’s holding back the urge to smile.
“I think I should shower.” Did I just say that out fucking loud? He’s going to think I’m gross—that Ismell. “I mean shave.” Shit! Shit! Shit! He’s going to think I have an entire Canadian forest tucked between my legs, God only knows he’d be right. “I mean, I guess—we should change into our PJs and maybe we could eat cookies.” PJs?Cookies?Perfect. Let him know you have the dress code and diet of a three-year-old—that ought to turn him on. NOT. Way to show him you’re not Cole’s kid sister.
“Hmm.” His cheek cinches up one side while I boil in a vat of self-inflicted embarrassment. And, worst of all, I can tell he’s enjoying this. “That’s quite a hygienic, albeit nutritiously deficient, agenda you have mapped out.” Bryson wraps his arms around my waist and sways me as if we were dancing. “Why don’t you put on your bathing suit?” He sears a kiss over the rim of my ear. “I’ll whip us up something to eat, and we can hit the hot tub. Does that sound good?”
“Sounds more than good.” At least he’s able to think intelligently under the circumstances unlike me who’s reduced herself to a walking ball of hormones on fire. Then again, he’s done this a million times. Of course he’s going to be way more casual about the whole thing. Food then sex. He’s had a steady diet of both for the last few years. I’m just too much of a dumbass to realize the fact that’s how most people round out their day.
God, that’s going to be my new routine with Bryson!Gah!I just want to scream and shake people. Well, not Bryson,otherpeople who don’t seem to realize how fucking fantastic the rest of my life is going to be. I should call Mom! No wait, ixnay on the calling of the mother. Although, one day, in a land far far away, she’ll be ecstatic for me.
I scoot upstairs with my thighs quivering every step of the way and jump into the shower, attacking every part of me below the neck that has hair with a razor as I try my best to banish and sculpt. After several nicks and close run-ins with a few surface veins, I dig through my bag and pull out my red two-piece that I had no idea I would even be needing, but, since, I have my entire existence in this bag, here it is. I toss a long sweater over it and head back down, barefoot.
“In here.” He calls from the dining room, and my private parts quiver as if telling me to hurry the hell up and get that boy on top of me already. Bryson has a series of candles set out and two plates brimming with what looks like ramen noodles.
“Aren’t you the master chef?” I tease while taking a seat next to him.
“I am.” He pours sparkling water into a pair of tall goblets and slides one over to me. “I guess I’m more of a minute chef tonight. I blame that on a serious lack of food in the fridge.”
I try to take a few bites, but my stomach has already gone into lockdown. There’s no way I’ll be able to eat another bite. I glance up at Bryson, and he hasn’t taken those steel-colored eyes off me once.
“You ready to hit the hot tub?” He gives a devious smile as if he had arranged for the mishap at the Ice Bar himself.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Bryson leads us out to a gloriously-huge backyard that spans in every direction with emerald-rolling lawns. A cabana sits tucked close to the house with an expansive patio around it, and nestled in the middle is an oversized hot tub.
In the distance, a trail of bright green lights blink on and off under a juniper tree and it takes a moment to register what they are.
“Look!” I marvel.
“Fireflies.” He lands a kiss in the hollow of my neck, and I take a breath.
“It looks like magic,” I say, panting into him. Bryson, plus fireflies, plus hot tub equals a trifecta of perfection. My vagina pounds against my thighs because I forgot to add penis in the trifecta mathematics. It’s a rather focused event taking place down there, and now I’m blushing for no reason.
Bryson turns on the lights to the hot tub, and the water glows a glacial blue just like his eyes.
“You’re magic, Baya.” He helps me into the bubbling water, and it sears over my skin like a heated glove as I sink into it.
Bryson lands beside me as we look out at the deep navy night. My heart feels like it’s about to riot right out of my chest, and my thighs tremble for his touch. I can’t believe that the rest of the world feels this way—this fuckingfantasticright before they experience one of the most intimate moments of their lives. And something in me wants to believe that being with Bryson would be exactly this incredible night after night. I know for a fact it would be.
“What are you thinking?” He slips his hand around my waist and pulls me into his lap. My thigh grazes over the bump in his trunks, and everything enlivens in me from the waist down. The Notorious V.A.G. that sits tucked between my legs screams like a cheerleader at the Super Bowl just waiting for that final touch down. The girls sort of want to get in on the action, too, so I position them over his chest and gently rub his marble hewn body with mine.
