I climbed straight out of bed, and only came down for a quick drink, maybe a snack… in nothing but a T-shirt cut around the collar and a thong—the countertop freezing my ass cheeks should have reminded me of this.
Chase follows my line of sight to where my tangled shirt rides high over my hips, to the bright yellow V of my underwear, currently getting cozy with his abs.
He jumps, swings around and gets right back to his original task.
“You want caramel syrup?” he rasps, promptly clearing his throat.
“Chocolate.” I curse myself for sounding all breathy, but son of biznatch!
Who is this man and can I keep him?
I scoff internally, because yeah right. He’s just high on summer. Or something like that.
Whatever, I’m not about a wasted opportunity, so I sit back and watch the way his muscles move as he works.
Did I mention he’s shirtless? ‘Cause it’s glorious.
His brown hair is perfectly messy, his skin tan from spending as much time as possible beneath the sun, and so smooth. He’s been talking about getting a tattoo for years, but as of right now, he’s still all-natural.
I lick my lips.
So fine.
“I can feel you checking me out.” He doesn’t bother turning to confirm.
“Yeah, well.” I grip the countertop and lean forward a little. “When the man above blessed us with wine, we indulged. It’s only fair his other masterpieces get the same treatment.”
Chase sets the ice cream scooper down, and spins with a smirk. He leans his ass against the granite, one leg crossed in front of the other, and holds his arms out wide. “Then by all means.” He surprises me for the third time in three days, encouraging me to openly gawk.
He’s being playful, and I’m so here for it.
So I take his unexpected invitation before he comes to his senses.
For the first time I have no time limit, no need to peek beneath my lashes or hide behind shades. I look my fill, unabashedly taking him in from the tips of his brown hair to the bottoms of his bare feet.
At first, it’s a quick run of his body, and then I start over. I trace the firmness of his jaw down his neck, noting the way it thickens, widening into his broad shoulders, courtesy of years of football. I move to his arms, and the deep cuts that disappear behind him, roaming over every ridge of his abs, daring myself to travel farther south.
My knees meet each other as I trace the sharp lines of his hips, his pajama pants sitting loose and perfectly low. I suck my cheek between my teeth, fearing I might make an incredibly embarrassing sound as I do my best to conjure up the shape of the bulge pressing against the thick, striped cotton.
My eyes dart up and the look in his…
It’s new.
Dark.
Desperate?
Chase’s throat bobs with a heavy swallow and my core throbs. I drop my left shoulder, aware my T-shirt will slide with it, and it does. The gaping neck allows it to continue down my skin, and it only pauses when the material meets the hallow of my chest, outlining the swell of my breast.
Just a tease… just enough.
His gaze slices to mine, narrowing. “What are you doing?”
“That seems to be your question of choice this week…”
His frown is small. “Maybe I should wonder a little less.”
My stomach hollows. “Maybe you should.”
Feeling brave, I allow my hands to slide farther back, willing him closer, trying to make it as clear as possible, just in case he’s not getting it.
I want you.
Instantly, his gaze drops to my mouth, so with nerves running through me, I glide my tongue across my lips.
That does it.
Chase pushes off the counter, and like an animal after his next meal, he makes his way to me.
Three more steps.
His fists flex at his sides.
One more…
He reaches me.
I push up.
My brother appears.
Shit!
I jerk upright, and Mason’s sharp eyes fly between us.
“What the fuck is this?” Mason shouts, the patio door slamming him in the ass as he’s frozen halfway through it.
I damn near jump and run, but my body went from flight to frozen in two-point-five seconds.
I’m once again teen me who got pulled onstage at a One Direction concert and threw up all over Zayn Malik’s shoes, while he was still wearing them.
Thank god Chase isn’t wide-eyed and tongue-tied like me.
“Nothing, man, just getting some ice cream. You want?” Chase asks him, as he casually reaches behind me, finding something to grab from the cupboard, and moves back to the forgotten ice cream cartons.