Page 116 of Bottle Shock
Still holding me, Gavin pushes his hair back, water dripping down his jaw, and I swear I’ve never seen him look more beautiful. His eyes are bright, wide, unguarded.
Like he just let himself come up for air after holding it for years.
“That,” I say between breaths, “was fun.”
“It was,” he murmurs—eyes locked on mine.
Then his mouth is on me, cold from the water and blazing hot all at once. He pulls me in, bodies colliding, the lake rocking softly around us as we kiss like we’re the only two people left in the world.
CHAPTER 31
Gavin
HOW ABOUT A BRAID?
Ialmost fucked her in the lake, but I didn’t.
Which feels like an accomplishment considering the way we made out like horny teenagers in the middle of the water. I could’ve taken her right there, slipped my cock in easily beneath the cover of water.
But then I remembered tenth grade microbiology.
Lake water is basically a soup of bacteria, algae, and microscopic nightmares that have no business anywhere near my wife’s pussy. If I’m going to fuck her outside, it’s going to be somewhere clean. Preferably a flat surface. With traction.
So I just held her, kissed her until we were both dizzy, and reminded myself I’m a grown man with impulse control.
Now it’s late afternoon and we’re back at the house, showered, and ready to head into town to meet Maggie and Carl for dinner.
Scottie is wearing a long, pretty dress that’s so flowy it hides her curves, until she turns around and the back is completely exposed.
No bra strap in sight.
Those delicious tits of hers are just flying free under all that fabric, taunting me, teasing me.
She’s standing in front of the full-length mirror, twisting her hair up in knot, but she keeps redoing it, unsatisfied with it.
“I don’t understand how when I don’t care about my hair at all, I can throw it up in the perfect messy bun, but when I’m actually trying, it looks like shit.”
“Let me try,” I offer.
She catches my gaze in the mirror, her brow raising in question.
“You want to do my hair?”
I shrug. “Why not? I do my daughter’s hair. I do my own hair. Why can’t I do yours?”
Her lips ease into a smile, soft at the corners.
“Alright.” She passes me a hair tie. “Have at it.”
Standing, I come up behind her. Taking an inhale of whatever addicting orange scented shampoo she uses before running be fingers through the strands, combing it gently.
Her neck is long and graceful, and my mouth aches to mark it, to mar that delicate skin.
The more time I spend with Scottie, the more I uncover things about myself I never knew existed. Jealousy. Possession. Obsession.
All of it new. All of it because of her.
I trail a delicate line down her spine, the tip of my finger grazing her skin. She shivers in response, goosebumps rising to her skin.
