Page 21 of Hot Shot
Blake delivering a dressing-down makes me want to strip us both naked and find a bed to roll around on together.
With the imagined naked Blake in my head, I break through the last of the trees into the backyard to discover what the music is all about. And stop short at the sight before me.
Blake, dressed in nothing but her underwear, which if I could move closer, I’m sure I’d see is not underwear but a set of activewear that no doubt bears the Rogue sportswear label, dancing across the deck.
She has the heaters blazing and the sun has been out most of the day so while it might not be considered warm, it’s not that cold either. Add the heat radiating down from the deck roof and she’s probably toasty with the way she’s busting out her moves.
Instead of getting closer like every instinct is screaming for me to do, I stand perfectly still and watch her. And me and my dick are reminded of how sexy she is—how much I’ve always wanted her.
It’s interesting to note I haven’t had any kind of input from my sex drive in years, can’t remember the last time I rubbed one out—before Celeste?—and now it’s yelling loud and clear how it feels.
“You know in some places you have to pay to watch,” Blake shouts above the music.
I’m startled and a bark of laughter catches in my throat when her words register.
I had no idea she knew I was here. Her back is to me and has been the whole time, and there’s no chance she heard me over the music.
She dances over to the table where a few taps on her phone has the music stopping abruptly. “I saw you in the window,” she says at a normal volume as she turns to face me, resting her butt against the table, arms crossed over her chest, the bare expanse of her belly holding my gaze captive for a moment.
When I can pull it away, I glance at the wall of windows and see a perfectly clear reflection of the backyard, myself included. “Oh.”
“Good hike?”
Returning my gaze to her, I find her studying me. “Yeah. Good exercise, fresh air.”
“You hike often?”
“Have since I got here.”
Her gaze moves away from me, traveling along the tree line. “You mind if I tag along next time?”
Something pinches in my chest. I know what it is. Ache and longing and regret. We used to hike all over her parents’ property together. Swallowing hard, I have to force the word out. “Sure.”
“I made lunch. Soup.” She pushes off the table and waves toward the house. “It should be ready in about fifteen minutes if you want to grab a quick shower.”
When I say my walk was good exercise, I’m not talking exercise exercise. In the hours I’ve been gone, I’ve barely worked up a sweat. “I’m good. Took an easy path today.”
“Mind if I jump in real quick? These heaters on high are like a sauna.”
I grin. “Is that why you stripped off?”
“Ha!” Shaking her head she scoops up her phone and a hoodie from the back of a chair. “No. I did a sixty-minute hot yoga session before the rave party started.”
My eyes are now on her thick thighs, my mind wondering how soft the skin is there. It looks silky smooth. Shaking my head, I try to clear my thoughts and focus on something that isn’t a practically naked Blake. “Need me to do anything to get lunch on the table?”
“Set it?”
“Are you asking me to set it or if I should set it?”
With a shrug she says, “Both, I guess. I was planning to spoon out a bowl and come back out here but now that I have company I should probably put in more effort.”
“You’ve done enough by making the soup. You didn’t have to.”
“I didn’t make it for you, Bran. I need to eat too.”
Ouch. The barb is a direct hit I didn’t see coming. Although I’m sure she didn’t mean it that way.
I have no right to take offense at her words, to be hurt by them. Except I am. Because I want to have her care again. I want her to think of me when she does things. I want it with a bone-deep ache that I have no right to feel.
