Yeah, absolutely the fuck not.
I reach out, grabbing her wrist as she passes by me, tugging on her arm until she collapses into me with a soft gasp. Her drink splashes onto my arm.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to learn how to drive the boat?” My lips press up against her ear.
Her dark hair is loose around her shoulders, brushing against the top of my thighs. She said it once, like, three years ago, but I guess I’ve never forgotten.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Seymour,” Duke jokes, clearly intoxicated by the way his words are slurring.
She nods. “Yeah, I want to learn.”
She adjusts herself, twisting her body so that she’s facing toward the steering wheel and control buttons. Her roundass presses up against my groin, and immediate regret floods through my veins as the blood rushes down.
Mayday, mayday. Bad fucking idea.
The split-second decision I made to prevent her from sitting on that jerk’s lap didn’t warrant enough time for me to think through the consequences of pulling her onto mine. My lower back begins to sweat.
At least he’s not the one getting to feel her ass on his lap.
Grady is sitting beside us, and he’s the only one who could catch on to the way Dolly’s cheeks are flushed pink. Duke is behind us and can’t see below our shoulders because of the chair blocking his view.
Depending on what kind of mood he’s in, there’s a fifty percent chance he’ll let me keep my dick if he finds out it got hard from the feel of his sister’s ass. All the Redford brothers tend to throw punches first and ask questions later.
I reach up, twisting my ball cap backward so it doesn’t fly off in the wind. Grady shifts into reverse and starts backing out of the slip. I pick up the drink I made her and pour it into the one she’s holding.
Coconut suntan lotion infiltrates my senses. I lift up my margarita, taking a long, slow drink.
I can do this. I can survive this. It’s platonic. She’s like a sister to me. She’s always been like a sister to me.
Ha.
“Where do you wanna go?” Grady asks, picking up the speed of the boat as we get out onto the main body of the lake.
“Let’s go to the cliffs,” Duke calls out over the wind.
Damn it.The cliffs are thirty minutes away.
Grady nods, pushing down on the accelerator. The boat shoots off. Dolly wobbles from the sudden movement, her weight shifting back against me. I reach up a hand to steady her, my fingers brushing over the bare skin of her tanned stomach.She wiggles her bum, either trying to steady herself or cause me to go into cardiac arrest.
My dick doesn’t remember our agreement about ignoring Dolly Redford and pretending we have a platonic relationship. Blood doesn’t just trickle; it races down to my groin. I squeeze her waist, closing my eyes as I feel myself harden. I can’t do shit about it. The boat is speeding across the water, and even if I try to push her off, the only place she can go is onto the lap of another guy. Then her body won’t be concealing the situation I have going on in my pants.
Think of your life. You value your life. You’re too young to die.
There’s no way she doesn’t feel it. If she were mortified by it, she’d jump off me and slap me in the face. She doesn’t say anything. I watch as she lifts her drink up to her lips and sips on the rim. Her hips shift again, causing a delicious scrape of friction.
Fucking hell. I’m in so much trouble.
Grady slows the boat as we approach a no-wake zone under a bridge. The hand I have on her waist travels down to the side of her hip so I can stop her from moving again and torturing me. Every tiny stroke is pushing me toward an edge that I can’t go over with her, especially on a crowded boat with her brother sitting two feet behind us.
I brush the tips of my fingers over the silky smooth skin of her hip before my fingers dig in, desperately attempting to keep her still. She’s wearing one of those bikinis that ties on the side. With one tug, it could come undone, and she’d be exposed to me. My chest tightens.
Stop touching her. Stop thinking about how perfectly her hips fit into your hands. Stop thinking about grabbing them and taking up this position behind her.
She shifts her hips again, and I think I might actually come inside my swim trunks if she does it again.
“Stop moving,” I growl into her ear, squeezing her hip even tighter.
“We’re on a boat,” she breathes, twisting so that she can say it up against my ear over the wind blowing past us.
