Page 9 of My Summer Fling

“Fuck, Millie. Your head.”

Thunder cracks and Annie runs to the door, whining. I stand up and grab Millie, carrying her like a small child as she protests weakly. Head injuries always bleed like a bitch, but with the alcohol in her system, it’s running down her face a bit faster than I’d like.

I pull open the door and Annie goes running inside, jumping up on the couch and tucking her tail between her legs.

“She doesn’t like storms,” Millie quietly tells me.

I set her down on the counter next to the sink. Pushing her hair out of the way, I inspect the cut better. It doesn’t look too deep, but it’s definitely going to hurt like a bitch for a few days.

“Where are some old rags? Ones you aren’t going to care about getting all bloody?”

“Hall closet next to the bathroom. There are some old flannel sheets I cut up for rags. Second shelf down.”

“Just sit here, okay?” I order her. “Stay.”

She rolls those gorgeous blues. “I’m not a dog, Noah.”

I give her a look, raising my eyebrow and waiting for an answer.

“Yes sir, Captain Noah, sir!” She gives me a mock salute, and I can’t help but laugh as I jog off to the hallway. It’s a small cottage, cozy, and the walls are painted the bright colors of the beach. It even smells like her as I walk through it, and I have to remind myself that she’s currently bleeding in the kitchen to keep myself from snooping.

I find the rags—the flannel print has old Disney characters on them—and walk back to find her in the same place I left her. She jumps when another loud bang of thunder rocks the house.

“No boyfriend tonight?” I ask to distract her as I wet one of the rags with warm water. Well, and maybe also because I’m a nosy son of a bitch.

She rolls her eyes again. “He isn’t myboyfriend, Noah. And no, I actually haven’t spoken to him in a few days.”

“Mm,” I hum under my breath. Situating myself between her thighs, I begin to gently wipe the wine from her face. I wet the cloth again, wringing it out before pressing it carefully to the cut above her temple. She winces, causing her legs to squeeze my hips.

“Sorry,” I murmur, placing my other hand on her thigh. I trace little circles on her warm skin with my thumb, loving when her skin pebbles. She leans into the warm cloth and closes her eyes as I hold it there.

God, she’s beautiful. She’s wearing a bit of makeup that’s accentuating her long eyelashes and sun-kissed skin. But those freckles are still on full display, creating a whole sky of constellations across her nose, cheeks, and forehead.

Her having a fuck boy has thrown a little wrench in my summer plans. I wanted to have her all to myself. I’m not sure what my plans actually were once I got here. Did I just want to make amends? Be her friend? Fuck her? Date her?

I mentally kick myself in the ass. She’s still my best friend’s little sister. It’s what kept me away from her growing up—and what sent me running after that night. The fact that we’ve grown up doesn’t give me the right to go there…right?

Taking the time to appreciate her body as I move a little closer into her space, I let my hand graze up her thigh and rest on her hip. When she doesn’t push me away, I feel emboldened to push her a bit further.

“Does he do what you need him to do?” I ask her, grinning when she opens her eyes and her face turns a pretty shade of pink. I rinse the rag and then wipe and dab some more. I get into a rhythm as we fall into conversation.

“I’m not quite sure what you mean.” She clears her throat and scoots back on the counter. But I don’t let her break this new tension between us. I wrap my arm around her and pull her back to where she was. I’m not supposed to be acting on anything with her, but I love torturing myself with her scent and the heat of her body pressed against mine.

“You know what I mean, Millie,” I say with a smile. At the risk of sounding like a self-centered asshole, I know my dimple pops when I smile like that. And I know that most women aren’t immune to it. So when Millie rolls her eyes, a little bit of that tension is broken. And I’m a bit shocked she didn’t just become a puddle at my feet.

I toss the dirty rag in the sink and grab one side of her face whilepressing a dry, clean cloth to the cut on her forehead. I’m so close her breath tickles my face and the heat between her legs radiates onto me. Her body shifts and she takes a deep breath, inhaling my scent.

“Does he scratch that itch for you, Millie?”

I shouldn’t be talking to her about this. I’m taking advantage, and I’m very much aware of it. She’s been drinking, and she’s always been a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. It also tends to make her more affectionate, a little more clingy, and a whole hell of a lot more forward than normal.

“Why?” she asks, her eyes narrowing on me. “You think you could do it better?”

Using my free hand, I cup the other side of her face and relish in the way her eyes flutter closed just for a minute at my touch. I look her over, taking the time to soak up the way her nipples have pebbled under the cool air and her wet tank top. The denim shorts she’s wearing have ridden up and are making little dents in her thighs.

My mouth waters at the idea of taking those perky nipples in my mouth. If I remember correctly, she loves to have them teased and bitten. And my teeth are dying to sink into those plump thighs, leaving my mark so she remembers me in the morning. My dick is half hard just thinking about it.

“I think you know I can do better, Millie.” My hand moves to her hair, the soft strands falling over my fingers as I trail down to her neck. Her pulse beats wildly under my palm as my thumb strokes her jaw.

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