What . . . the . . . fuck?
“What is it?” Breaker asks.
“What were the girls doing before you left them?” I ask Huxley.
“Getting more champagne,” he says, confused. “Why?”
“Because, from the text Kelsey just sent me, I can almost guarantee she’s completely wasted.”
“Fuck,” Huxley says.
Yeah . . . fuck is right. I can almost guarantee whatever conversation I attempt to have with her tonight is going to be absolutely pointless.
KELSEY
“You’re so handsome,” I say as I wait for JP to open his front door. “Like, really handsome. The most handsome.”
He looks over his shoulder at me and raises a brow. “How much did you have to drink?”
“Lots.” I fling my arms up in the air. “And I have a fun fact for you, JP.”
He opens his door, takes my hand, and brings me into his house.
“What’s your fun fact?” he asks, relocking his front door.
“When I drink, something happens to my body.” Leaning in, I whisper, “I get really horny.”
His eyes widen and he starts coughing. I offer him a sturdy pat on the back and then . . . I unzip my dress and let it fall to the floor. Before he can say anything, I grip the cups of my strapless bra and flip them down, exposing my breasts to him.
“Kelsey—”
I don’t give him time to finish before I grip the back of his head and bury his nose right between my breasts. I add a little shimmy, a little shake, and then pull him away.
His hair is mussed.
His body is rigid.
And there’s no smile on his face.
Umm . . . did he not like that?
“Kelsey—”
“Wait . . . did you not enjoy that motorboat? Lottie said Huxley likes it. I figured it would run in the family. Does that mean you like the butt twirl since he doesn’t like the butt twirl?”
He grips his hair. “What’s the butt twirl?”
With my index finger, I make a twirling motion and shoot it up to the sky. “Right up the old toot-toot.”
His face falls. “What the fuck did you two talk about?”
Breasts still hanging out, I move around him and go to his staircase. I lie across the stairs and spread my legs. “Come and get her. She’s ready for you. Ripe and ready.”
“Kelsey, baby, maybe we should just get ready for bed.”
I lift up on my elbows and say, “Oh, trying to lure me into the bedroom. I see you, Cane. I see you. Sure, let’s ‘just get ready for bed.’” I use air quotes.
He offers me his hand and I take it as we walk up the stairs. I drag my hand over the black stair rail, enjoying the smooth, polished surface, and I allow him to guide me to his room. But he doesn’t stop at the bed. Instead, he walks me to the sink and helps me with my toothbrush.
“Are you saying I have bad breath?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “No, babe, this is just routine. And I know how much you like routine.”
I stick my toothbrush in my hand, stare him down, and say, “God, it turns me on that you know that about me.”
“Seems like everything is turning you on right now.”
“Show me your toenails, and I bet I come right here, right now.”
“Wow, that champagne has really done a number on you.”
“I love champagne. Don’t you?”
“Why don’t you just focus on brushing your teeth? I’ll get you a shirt to change into.”
“Don’t bother, I want to sleep naked.”
I see his Adam’s apple bob. “Are you sure? You can wear one of my shirts.”
I shake my head. “Naked, or I scream.”
“Well, we don’t want you screaming—”
“Only when it’s your name, right . . . Jonah?” I wiggle my eyebrows and he heaves a heavy sigh.
We spend the next few minutes “getting ready for bed” aka, prepping our bodies for the magic that’s about to happen, and when I’m done, I trot into his bedroom to find him standing in his boxer briefs, staring down at his phone.
Wearing nothing but my very own skin, I grip the doorframe and say, “Yoo-hoo, look who’s ready for bed?” I twiddle my fingers at him.
He sets his phone down and turns toward me. I watch as his eyes practically eat me alive. That’s right, take your fill, big boy. I move one foot in front of the other and saunter toward him in this come-hither, sexy way that I know must be driving him absolutely crazy with need.
“Congratulations,” I say when I reach him and put my hands on his chest.