“Sebastian?” she yelled while my eyes glazed over.
Amy looked down, following my eye line.
“Oh shit.” She wrapped her hands around her chest.
Ringo used the opportunity to snag one of the pretty little mini Bundt cakes.
“Get away from that!” I scolded the horse, daring to take a few steps toward Amy.
She smelled amazing, like flowers and sex.
She doesn’t smell like sex.
But she looked like it.
Keep your eyes off her.
I grabbed Ringo’s bridle.
Too late.
My gaze swept across her face, down to where her tits pushed up against the sopping-wet fabric stretched taut by her crossed arms.
“You said I smelled bad, and you spritzed me with hand spray,” she said defensively.
“I’m not mad about the shower,” I said. Ringo jerked against my hand. “But you could have just showered with me.”
Her eyes went big.
Ringo let out a snort, like he was laughing at me.
“What the hell,” I muttered to myself then dragged, begged, and cajoled the large animal outside and locked him in his stall.
Members of the wedding party and townspeople eager to finally have a look at my house were already arriving. I was too discombobulated to deal with them and took a back staircase up to my bedroom.
“Honestly, the best you could say was you wanted her to shower with you?” I berated myself as I walked down the hall. “That wasn’t flirting. That was just creepy.”
It didn’t change the fact that I did want her naked and slippery wet in the shower with me.
It didn’t change the fact that I still had a raging hard-on.
And it didn’t change the fact that my brain, instead of focusing on literally any of the hundreds of important things I had to think about, between taking care of my brother, running a company, and planning a wedding, would only focus on how fucking fantastic Amy’s tits had looked through the wet fabric.
I took a very long cold shower and listened to a meditation podcast to calm down enough that I trusted myself back at the party.
It was in full swing when I walked out onto the terrace. Meg and Hunter, his arm draped around her shoulders, were talking to the various well-wishers and sipping craft cocktails.
People were enjoying the catering selections, and the gift table was weighed down with beautifully wrapped packages. Amy’s colleagues were busy supervising the army of white-shirted staff.
I suppose I should tell Amy that her company planned a very nice couples shower,I decided while also simultaneously refusing to admit to myself that I just wanted to be near her and fantasize about her tits.
Be a boat on a placid lake,I instructed myself as I searched the party for Amy.
All my meditation and peaceful thoughts went out the window when I found her surrounded by a half dozen Svensson brothers.
Drunk and aggressive, they were actively flirting with her—hard.
And Amy was flirting back.
