Page 73 of River & Rue

If this goes on long enough, there’s no question of what will happen. I can already feel those deep, pulsing currents that urge me to rock against him.

I test his hold with a wiggle and suffer immediate regret. At least my shorts are denim; were they cotton, I might have to change my name and move across the country. Instead, I drum my heels on the backs of his thighs.

River sighs the last of his laughter against my neck, then relaxes his arms enough to support my slide to the ground. I purposely black out during contact with his tumid telescope, only to hallucinate him squeezing my ass before releasing it.

Once my feet are on the ground, I backpedal to a safe distance before glaring at him. I am a little peeved, but mostly I need to justify my flaming face.

“What’s so damn funny?”

Aftershocks of laughter roll through him, making his eyes shine like gems. “You spread your arms and legs midair and latched onto me like a koala. I didn’t even need to catch you.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I’m clearly an improvisational genius. Moving on—you cheated, so I win by default.”

His eyebrows jump. “Interesting interpretation. How about a compromise? I get to drive home.”

I ruminate for a few seconds just to be difficult, then shove out my hand.

“Deal.”

We shake on it.

As our hands part, his thumb drags over my wrist. My gaze snaps to his face, but his smile is guileless.

Is it too guileless?

“When are we leaving?” he asks.

“As soon as the exhibitionist puts on a shirt.”

Fangs press briefly to his lower lip. “Got it. Need anything else?”

A fucking lobotomy.

“Nope. All good here.”

He nods and heads for the steps. I frown after him, a question I’m afraid to ask pooled on my tongue. He’s halfway across the porch by the time I locate my lady balls.

“Hey, River?”

He looks back. “What’s up?”

“Is there a chance I’m still hallucinating stuff? Or having some delayed sensory-type effects?”

His lips pinch and twist. I can’t tell if the reaction is because he’s concerned or trying not to laugh, but his voice is neutral. Too neutral?

“No idea. Sure you feel okay? I’m down to drive if you want to relax.”

I scoff. “Nice try.”

With a breezy shrug, he jogs toward his open door.

Shaking my head, I walk toward the golf cart. Either the LSD is still messing with my mind or my mind is messing with me. There’s no other explanation. The ass grab and thumb eroticism couldn’t have been intentional.

Unless…

Nah.

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