Her head lifted and the blood in his brain went straight to his cock. For once he had no trouble reading her. Her eyes were startled, shocked... and aroused.
Interest was written all over her, from the flush on her cheeks to the pulse beating at her neck to the lust stamped on her face. “Oh,” she whispered. Her hand fluttered over her chest and the clinging fabric covering her damp bathing suit. The white cotton had become see-through in a couple spots, giving him peeks of blurry cherries. “Oh.”
His cock thickened, his pulse beating a steady thump. He could have her. They could destroy the purity of the white bedding with all the filthy, needy acts he could think of. No one else was in the house... no one who knew them at least. This would simply be two people from opposite sides of a bridal party engaging in the time-honored tradition of pre-ceremony fucking.
Her pink tongue touched the corner of her mouth, and he snapped out of the lust-filled spell he’d fallen under. Fuck.
They weren’t the usual sort of bridal party.
He leaned down and grabbed his shorts to yank them back up, his cock protesting at being strangled and tucked away. He pivoted to face her, but not before picking up the towel to hold in front of his lower body. “This is my room,” he said, his voice so harsh it surprised even him.
“No, it... it’s supposed to be mine?” It came out as a question, and then she blinked. “Oh. Oh, there may have been a mix-up. I’m... You know what, I’ll grab the room next door.” Her cover-up fluttered as she almost ran to the suitcase tucked into the corner, lending support to the claim that she’d genuinely thought this was her room.
Next door? Next door wasn’t much better. At least she’d be out of immediate proximity to his bed there, though.
“I’m so sorry,” she babbled, and he knew he should put her at ease, but all he could think about was that all-too-clear heat in her eyes.
He could have her. Only he couldn’t. Goddamn it.
“It’s fine.”
She paused at the door, and her aroused, curious gaze licked over his bare chest. Christ, she was killing him.
“I’m—”
“Go to bed, Eve.” Before he put her in his bed.
It was like his rough command flipped a switch. Her face went totally blank, cold. If he hadn’t seen that naked lust, he might have wondered if he’d imagined it.
“Yes,” she said, and her tone was as smooth and cool as glass. “Apologies. Good night.”
The door closed behind her and he sank down on his bed, burying his face into his hands, feeling like an ass. Better she be miffed at him, though, than under his body.
He gave a mirthless laugh. Or at least he would keep telling himself that.
Chapter 7
Go to bed, Eve.
The words had looped in her head all night, on repeat, until she’d finally fallen asleep, exhausted. She’d examined them from every angle, for intonation, aggression, anger, annoyance.
Four words had ruined any pleasure she might have taken from finally getting a glimpse of Gabe’s naked butt.
Okay, that wasn’t totally true. His butt had given her plenty of pleasure, had featured prominently in her dreams, once she was asleep. It was an amazing butt. Very bubble-y. If she hadn’t known it was wildly immature, she would have texted Madison its exact dimensions and roundness and muscularity so they could squeal over said butt together.
Eve sat in front of the vanity and fiddled with her hair. She’d been fully dressed for hours, but she didn’t want to go downstairs, where she would probably face Gabe.
So much for sticking her neck out. Four words in an angry tone, and she was diving right back into her shell.
Most women wouldn’t be so timid. Be braver.
Her shoulders slumped. Easy to say. Harder to do.
She’d been disheartened when she’d followed after Gabe last night. He didn’t even remember the night she’d drunkenly thrown herself into his arms all those years ago when she’d been a coed. It had taken every ounce of courage Young Eve had possessed, as well as a hefty amount of alcohol she could barely tolerate, to try to kiss him in that bar.
She twisted her fingers together. Such a huge deal for her, and nothing for him. He probably had women crawling all over him when he was out.
Spotting his butt in the wild had temporarily alleviated her dismay over being one of many. But then it had come crashing back with his rebuke.
