Page 52 of Very Unlikely
“Exactly!” she replies with a hiccup before she grins about her cliché reply. “That’s all it needs to be, right?”
When she attempts to greet two women I’ve never seen before entering our suite like they have a personal invitation into my private abode, I tug her back to me via her elbow. “You’re meant to start drinking at five… not be drunk by then.”
She shrugs like it’s no big deal.
She fucking shrugs.
Summer doesn’t shrug.
She screws up her nose or bites the inside of her cheek.
She. Does. Not. Shrug.
“Is this about our conversation last night? Are you rebelling against me because I wouldn’t…” The rake of my eyes down her body finalizes my question. I can’t mention fucking her and not get hard, so I cheat and get a boner by drinking in her body through her dress that leavesnothingto the imagination.
“Yep!” she replies, the ‘P’ popping from her mouth. “Because that’s what any sane woman does when she’s denied having the innocence from her eyes fucked out by the man she calls her best friend. She rebels like he’s the father he dobbed her into last night.”
“I didn’t dob on you.”I fucking did, but that’s a story for another day.“I updated him on the situation while Dr. Cameron assessed you.”
I stare at her like I have no clue who she is when she mumbles, “Well, thank you for that, Mr. Proper. Because not only did my father’s call interrupt a very important moment in my life, he only hung up an hour ago, leaving me no chance to rectify the situation.”
“Rectifywhatsituation?”
“My first true kiss.”
I step back, shocked and mortified.
She did just say what I think she said, right?
That her father interrupted her first true kiss?
I must be hearing things. Surely. Because how can you fuck someone but not kiss them? It’s a natural part of the process, isn’t it?
I stumble again when the truth smacks into me. I kissed Summer’s deliciously scrumptious pussy for almost an hour without my lips going anywhere near her mouth, so it’s plausible that Three Pump Paul finished long before he granted Summer her first true kiss.
“Hold up,” I reply when conceitedness stops swelling my chest long enough for panic to set in. “Who were you planning to kiss?”
I don’t know what you call the anger that fills me when she thrusts her hands to the blond, six-foot-three man I’m going to beat to death, but I’m reasonably sure it has something to do with jealousy. “You areneverkissing Cody Larson, Summer. I forbid it.”
Summer drags her hand across her cocked hip. Her confidence is either compliments to my apparent jealousy or from the alcohol pinching her smarts. “Oh, yes, I am, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.” She steps up to me like she’s a lot taller than she is. “Because you’re too scared to take me back out into the ocean and too slow to catch me when I run.”
“Want to fucking bet?”
Before all my threat leaves my mouth, I snag her wrist and toss her over my shoulder like I did last night, then stomp her into our room.
Yes, I said ‘our’ room.
Deal with it.
Summer’s fight ramps up when I walk us toward our king-size bed, but since it appears more out of hope I’ll pin her to the mattress like I did to stop her sneaking out to visit Three Pump Paul, I alter the direction of my stomps partway there. We’re still near the bed, just not on it as the thickness between my legs is hoping.
Summer is drunk.
Considering I’ve never seen her touch a drop of alcohol since we became friends, I can’t risk my dick not getting the memo like it miraculously did two nights ago.
With music pumping out of the main half of our living room, I plonk my ass onto the armchair next to the bedside table with the alarm, then pull Summer back until she’s sitting on my lap without incident or interruption.
“We’re going to sit here until you sober up. Then we are as sure as fuck going to talk about why guys plow you with drinks in the middle of the day.” My grip on her waist tightens so much during the last sentence, Summer whimpers.
