Page 42 of Nerdelicious
Fred, you’re a pervert.
I force my eyes to his face. He’s not watching me, thank the gods. His head is tilted, listening to the others discuss some chicken game.
My eyes narrow in on his full lips. Those lips have touched mine.
Look away, Fred. I engross myself in rubbing sunscreen on my arms and legs, refusing to so much as tilt my head in his direction.
My intentional diversion isn’t long lived because suddenly he’s standing in front of me, holding a tube of sunscreen.
“You need help?”
He nods.
“Okay.” I nod.
There’s a lot of head bobbing going on.
I swallow. “Uh, turn around.”
He does and I’m presented with the most beautiful back I’ve ever seen on a man.Dammit.
I squeeze the tube too hard and sunscreen squirts all over my hand and wrist, some of it falling to the sand.
Dropping the container down to the towel, I stare at his back, then down at my lotion-splattered limb. “I can’t reach your shoulders.”
He kneels in front of me on the towel and all that skin and heavy muscle is even closer. It’s all too much. The smell of suntan lotion mixed with sunshine and fresh air and Beast’s crisp, clean scent. My brain short-circuits until my chest hurts because I’ve stopped breathing.
Pull your shit together, Fred.
I take a deep breath and start rubbing.Oh my. He’s warm and smooth under my fingers, and I do my damnedest to avoid lingering too much on the rigid bumps and grooves of his physique.
I spread the lotion all over his shoulders, swiping down to his lower back just above his...
Maybe itisbetter than Captain America’s ass. My fingers move closer, like they’re no longer controlled by me, but by a force much greater. A Space Force. No, an awesome ass force.
Don’t touch his butt, Fred.
I jump away before I can do anything I’ll regret. “Anyone want sandwiches?”
“Me!” Reese calls.
“I am feeling rather peckish,” Jude says.
Beast reaches out and grabs my wrist before I can escape.
I blink down at him, not used to this perspective. “You want a sandwich?”
He shakes his head yes, then no.
“What?”
He points at himself, then me, then the cooler. “You want to help?”
A quick nod.
“Right. Yeah.” It is his thing, feeding people.
I walk over to the cooler, heart thumping like a bass drum in my chest. We’ll have to stand next to each other. All those muscles and skin will be right next to me. Maybe we’ll both reach for the mustard at the same time and our hands will brush.
