Page 34 of Body Check
Dutton: Very
Bridgette: So what are you going to do about it?
Dutton: I’m gonna jack off in the bathroom (again), and then come downstairs and join the party. I bet you look even hotter up close, and apparently, I’m into self-torture.
I smile to myself as I read his message. He’s so blunt, so straightforward, and so completely honest about his desire for me. It’s hot as hell.
The fact that he’s back and about to join the party should worry me. It makes the chance of Bran finding out about us that much higher. If I’d known Dutton was getting home this early, I probably would have made up some excuse and stayed away, but I’m secretly glad I didn’t. My brother has surrounded himself with some of the best people on campus, and I love hanging out with all of them. Maggie and JT brought Calla over, so I got my baby fix. Annabelle is here with Dean, and we were discussing the best shade of blonde for her to color her hair for her next big role in an upcoming play.
My brother has great taste in friends.
And enemies.
Speaking of, I nearly choke on my own tongue when Dutton walks through the sliding glass doors and out to the patio. It’s agood thing I have my sunglasses on because I can’t stop my eyes from tracking him as he strolls past the chaise I’m lying on. He’s about three feet past me when he bends down to pick a leaf up off the pool deck. It must have blown in from the side yard. And, of course, Dutton just had to clear it away, taking full advantage of the opportunity to flaunt his ass in my direction.
I’m not mad at all.
I’m doing my best to act unaffected as he takes half a lap around the pool and chooses a lounge chair that’s directly across from mine.
How convenient.
How utterly frustrating.
How perfect. Because now I can tease him the way he’s teasing me. I just have to be discreet.
Liza returns from the kitchen and sets my drink down. I thank her and do my best to look totally neutral. If I’d known I’d have to put on the performance of my life today, I might have asked Annabelle for some acting pointers.
I watch as Dutton winks at me and then gets hit in the face with a beach towel as Blue strolls by. Dutton responds by rolling the towel up and sticking it behind his head like a pillow and sticking his middle finger in the air. I swear that's the way these guys show their affection for each other.
Grabbing my phone, I tap out a text. It’s a pretty safe method of communication. We’re all college students, so there’s nothing alarming about me spending my afternoon with my face glued to my phone.
Bridgette: Are you okay? That was a nasty hit.
Dutton: He was telling me to wipe the drool off my face, but no one can blame me for that. You look good enough to fucking eat.
Bridgette: Thank you. I think…
Dutton:You’ll be thanking me later when I’ve got your legs hooked over my shoulders and your pussy pressed against my face.
I’m blushing furiously and probably sweating profusely, so I reach for my drink, glad that Liza was sweet enough to refill it. It’s hot out here, so I drink most of it down in a few sips. If Dutton keeps teasing me with his texts, though, I may need to grab the hose and drink directly from it. Or douse myself with it. When I hear the slurp from my straw, I realize I might have been a bit too enthusiastic about hydration. Dammit. Subtlety is just not my thing.
“You need another refill?” Liza asks. “Me, too. I’ll be right back. Actually, maybe I’ll make some snacks. A nice cheese tray, perhaps, with crackers and fruit and lots of bleu cheese.”
That is oddly specific. And her glass is full, so I’m not really sure why she’s heading into the house, but I’d bet it has something to do with Blue, since he keeps looking in our direction.
“I’d love some more lemonade, if you’re going in, and snacks are a pool party must. But why bleu cheese?” I ask.
“Because he hates it,” Liza says matter-of-factly. “He says he shouldn’t have to share his name with moldy cheese. The day he said that is the day it became my favorite food.”
She runs off to the kitchen while I catch sight of my brother waving in my direction. I almost miss it because I’m staring at my boyfriend’s abs while he lazes in the sun. This whole secret dating stuff is harder than I thought it would be.
“Birdie, want to sub in for Dean?” Bran calls.
I’m confused for a minute. Just how long was I staring at Dutton? I look around, but the volleyball net is still in a heapon the ground, and the basketball hoop is nowhere to be found. “Sub in for what?” I ask. “I thought you guys were going down the waterslide?”
“We are,” Bran calls back. “But we’ve got teams, and my side’s losing. And you love me, right? So do some of your fancy dance moves and help me out.”
I’m not sure why my brother thinks that my ability to tango will make me an asset in a water slide competition, but then again, this is Bran we’re talking about. His brain is a weird, wonderful place. Before I can think of a polite way to decline, I watch Blue cannonball into the deep end. When he surfaces, he’s smiling. “I’ll join your team, Mick.”
