I sat down on the edge of the lounge chair next to hers and put down my bag. Should’ve really been in my car, putting as much distance between the two of us as I could, as fast as I could.
Instead, I just sat here and stared.
I leaned my elbows on my knees and studied her. I knew her eyes were closed because she looked totally relaxed. No reaction to me sitting down.
Her string bikini had ruffles on the edges, and I watched them flutter on the light breeze. On any girl, it might be sexy.
On her…. it was way too fucking sexy.
Like if I was her brother, I would not wantmesitting here staring at her like this.
Probably time to start praying that Cary didn’t own a gun.
I glanced up at the house through the trees. I could see some windows here and there through the leaves, but if Cary was locked away in his studio, there was no way he could see this.
I looked at her again.
Damn.The girl was so fucking perfect.
Not athletic, exactly. Not too skinny. Not too soft.
Just right.
She was maybe five-six or so. Long legs. Nice hips.
And her breasts…
Courteney Clarke had the kind of tits men wrote songs about. The triangles of her bikini top could barely contain them.
She still didn’t know I was here.
How long was I planning to stare at her?
I could hear the music from her earbuds, faintly. She’d obviously tuned out the world. Maybe she’d let her guard down around me somewhat?
Or maybe she thought I wasn’t home?
But here I was. I could’ve reached out and touched her.
I could’ve licked her.
“Good morning.”
She fuckingjumped.
And screamed.
Her phone went flying and I caught it before it smashed on the ground. She’d jolted upright and by some miracle, her tits stayed strapped into her tiny bikini.
“Ohmygod,” she breathed.
“Sorry.”
I handed the phone to her and she snatched it back. She yanked out her earbuds. “What do you want?”
“Were you asleep?”
“No.” She wiped the corner of her mouth like she was worried she’d been caught drooling. “What time is it?” She glanced at her phone, then unplugged the earbuds so her music started playing through the tiny phone speaker. Some hip-hop/dance shit with too much Auto-Tune. She set it down on the towel next to her chair.
