Page 89 of The Illicit Play
You are seriously such a fucking idiot!
CHAPTER 26
BLAKE
It takes me a minute to find my bikini. Thankfully, Grady made me pack all of my clothes into a separate bag that he pulled out of my pack before rigging it up so the bears can’t get to it.
Bears. Holy shit! Bears!
That’s thrilling enough, but now Grady’s challenging me to jump off some rock face?
Who the fuck needs shoplifting, right?
I giggle to myself as I wrestle out of my yoga pants and slip my bikini on. A one-piece bathing suit would probably be far more practical for this kind of thing, but when I saw this one in the store, it was too cute to resist. So, a bikini it is.
I probably should have packed a rash guard or something too. Grady put it on the list as well, but I forgot to buy one when I was out shopping and didn’t want to admit to him yet another thing he’d have to supply for me. I didn’t think it’d matter anyway.
Adjusting the skinny straps of my bikini top, I thenmake sure my boobs are properly tucked into the two flimsy triangles covering them before grabbing the world’s smallest towel and flinging it over my shoulder. It’s a quick-dry one and feels like it’s made of fabric that will absorb nothing, but Grady loaned it to me, and apparently that’s all that would fit in my pack.
He’s right. My pack is stuffed to the gills, although it’s like half the size of his, so no big surprises there.
Zipping my tent closed behind me, I then spin to find Grady gaping at me. His eyes are transfixed on my body like he’s slipping into some state of catatonic shock.
It’s hard to keep my smile in check.
Yep, that boy wants me so bad.
A sizzle races through me, but the second our eyes connect, he blinks and shakes his head, gruffly asking, “Where’s your rash guard?”
“Uh…” I wince. “I forgot to buy one.”
“But it was on your list.” His gaze flicks down my body, his forehead wrinkling in irritation before his eyebrows start to rise again and he darts his eyes back to the dirt.
My lips won’t stop twitching as I watch him awkwardly stroke the back of his head and try not to look at me.
Damn, he is loving this view. Talk about an ego boost.
I bite my lip, failing to hide my smile.
“The water’s cold.” He skims a hand down his own rash guard. It’s sticking to his body like it was specially made for him, highlighting all of his delicious ridges and perfectly shaped torso.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him, slightly distracted by the sexy sight in front of me.
“Suit yourself. Leave your towel on that rock over there.” He points to a boulder near the edge of the lake, still doing everything in his power to avoid looking at me.
I do as I’m told, my heel catching on a stone as I walk over the dirt. “Ouch.”
“Where are you sandals?”
“By the tent.”
“You’ll want to put them on.” His voice is soft and gruff.
“But they’re so ugly,” I complain.
He lets out a dry laugh, then tells me off like a schoolteacher. “You’ve got to look after your feet. This trip will be over if you cut yourself up.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” I force a smile and tiptoe back to the tent, avoiding sharp stones and spiky pinecones as best I can.
