When she stopped being mad at the world and him, when she let herself be vulnerable for a moment, he found it hard to stand by his decision to stay away.There was something addictive about her.While apart, he’d found himself thinking about her.Thinking about how good it might be.But relationships were something he needed to avoid, and as tempting as she was, he couldn’t change his mind.
She smacked his arm.A tactilefuck youto his thoughts.
“Race you to the beach,” she shouted over her shoulder as she ran to open the gate.Just before she reached the sand, she kicked her flip-flops off.
He laughed, deliberately trailing her to the beach so he could admire her mighty-fine ass.It was pert, and spoke to thousands of squats.“Want to arrange a party here?”
Her eyes flashed, a huge grin on her face.“Are you kidding me?Really?”
“Went to school with Mo’s youngest brother.Used to live down the street from us as kids.He’d be invited to the party anyway, but said we can host it here if we want.”
Drea threw herself into his arms, laughing, and he caught her easily, swinging her round by her middle.
“It’s perfect.”Drea kissed him on the cheek.“Thank you.”Her face changed suddenly, the overt exuberance gone, replaced with a look of shock.
“Sorry,” she said as she wiggled against him.No way was she getting away from him that easily.Obviously embarrassed by her lack of inhibition she was withdrawing, and Cujo didn’t like it.
He lowered her to the sand but didn’t remove his arms from round her waist.It was impossible to ignore the feeling of her breasts pushed up against him, or the fact that his left hand was currently stroking the part of her lower back that curved into her perfect ass.And damn, his dick was creeping into hard-on territory.
“Don’t be sorry.I love it that you love it.And that you’re excited.And that you just ran across the sand like a four-year-old on a sugar-high.”
“I don’t get to the beach very often.Hell, I don’t even getoutvery often.”
“Drea,” he said, unsure what to follow it with.
“So what do you think?”Mo called out from the garden, tray in hand.
Drea looked up at Cujo with a sexy smirk, pushing away gently.“C’mon, it’s not every day I get to drink iced tea in a bazillion-dollar home with a legendary basketball star, even if I do have to put up with you while I do it.”
He watched her walk back to Mo and sit across from him, taking the tall glass he offered her.What she didn’t realize was she looked like she belonged there.
Once the preliminary plans of the party had been discussed, they sat and watched the sun go down over the water.Drea had been witty and charming with Mo, and Cujo was starting to get a complex it might just be him who rubbed her the wrong way.
Afterward, he lifted her into the truck despite her objections, because he was a masochist like that, and needed one more feel of her against him.
They hit the highway back to the city.Cujo opened the window a little.The air was cool and clear, fall taking the edge off the humidity.If only it would take the edge off his growing frustration.
“Where’s your car?I want to make sure it starts before I drive off.”
“You one of those ‘momma raised me right’ boys?”
“No, my dad did.My mom decided she didn’t want to be a mom four days before my eighth birthday, so I really don’t think she’d give a shit.”
“Cujo…?”Her voice, thick with sympathy, suffocated him and he leaned forward to turn the radio on.Raging vocals and the crazy riffs of an electric guitar accompanied the pounding beats of the drum.Metal had always been his refuge, his escape.
He ignored Drea’s question, left it hanging in the air.The warmth of her fingers burned as she rubbed his thigh gently.Long sweeping strokes that felt just a touch too good.Her hand looked tiny against his leg.He reached down and squeezed it for a moment before returning his hand to the wheel.
Drea spoke quietly, but he couldn’t make out her words over the volume of the music.Feeling like an ass, he turned it down.“Sorry, I missed that.What did you say?”
“My car wouldn’t start this morning.I took the bus.”
Now he felt like an asshole.Perhaps he should take a look at it for her when he dropped her home.“What’s your address?I’ll take you home.”
Drea sighed.“Okay,” she said reluctantly, “I’m at—”
His phone rang and the screen lit up in the holder.Heidi.British Airways.He squirmed a little when he realized Drea could see it.She pulled her hand away from his leg, and as much as he wanted to stop her, he let it go.The idea of putting which airline the girls worked for as part of their name had seemed like a good one at the time.Now, it left him feeling juvenile.
“Just ignore it, sorry,” he said, glancing toward her.
