His breath hitched. He’d forgotten for a moment who he was talking to. I never backed down from a challenge.
“And did you stay and watch?” he teased right back.
I leaned into the suggestion, my hand still on his chest. “What if I did? Who exactly were you thinking about in there, King?”
His hand wrapped around my wrist. “What if I said you?”
He was joking. Of course he was joking. Just playing into this silly, flirtatious game.
“I’d call you a liar, but nice try at your attempt to one-up me.”
A muscle feathered in his jaw, but otherwise, he said nothing. I broke from his touch, flipped my hair over my shoulder, and sauntered to the door.
“Get dressed, Gavin. We’re going hunting tonight.”
5
GAVIN
Watching Whitley strut out of my bedroom after admitting to watching me jack off made me consider going back out to that outdoor shower to pound out another one. Or maybe throwing her over my shoulder to get this out of my goddamn system.
Because fuck. me.
I had been thinking about her.
I certainly hadn’t been lying about a damn thing. All week, she’d been in the skimpiest bikinis imaginable. I’d watched with hungry eyes as she simpered and flirted and played coy. As she talked about this vacation fling that she wanted. And I wasn’t about to deny that I would be perfectly happy to fill that position if she was taking requests. If I thought she was actually interested and wouldn’t just laugh at me, maybe I’d even offer.
But even now, she’d laughed when I suggested I was thinking about her. That I’d acted like we were just trying to one-up each other rather than telling her the truth. I wanted her. And it was getting harder by the day to deny it.
“You coming?” Whit called from the pathway.
I growled under my breath and threw on a pair of slacks and a button-up. I slicked some gel into my hair and then rolled up the sleeves as I exited the villa. “Ready.”
“You men. So quick,” she said. But she caught sight of me, and her eyes drifted lower. Maybe she wasn’t completely unaffected by seeing me in that shower.
I winked at her. “I’m not always quick. Sometimes, I like to take my time.”
She laughed, but it was throaty, and her eyes darted away. “I bet.”
“Shall we?”
“We shall.”
We walked across the stone pathway and through the flame-lit pool space. Everything flickered and glowed as the sun sank below the horizon. Our friends waited for us on the terrace. I couldn’t deny that the six of us looked like a set. Except that Whitley and I were single and not a set at all.
English pulled Whit into a hug. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thanks. You too. I am ready to finally get in there!”
Lark laughed. “You’re such a heartbreaker.”
“Not if I can help it,” she said.
“Let’s take a picture to taunt Katherine,” English said.
“She already hates us for being here without her. Why not?” Lark agreed.
English pulled her phone out and took a selfie with us. She jotted out a text as we all headed inside the nightclub. Music pounded relentlessly as we were escorted to a VIP booth at the back of the club. The nightclub was open to anyone who ventured out to the island. So, Saturday night, it was packed. I was glad for the distraction from Whitley swishing her ass back and forth in front of me.
“I would have thought you’d make your move already, Gavin,” Court said with a nudge as we followed the girls.
“What move?”
Sam just glanced at me. “We’re not stupid.”
“I beg to differ.”
Court laughed. “Is it going to be tonight then? You’re eye-fucking her ass right now.”
I jerked my head upward. “I wouldn’t do that to Robert.”
“To Robert? She’s so over him.”
“He’s not over her.”
Sam shrugged. “Since when are you a gentleman?”
Excellent question. The answer was, never. I’d never been a gentleman. It was why Court, Camden, and I had gotten along in college. Between the three of us, we could get any girl in Cambridge. Now, Camden was married, and I’d bet Court was well on his way. I was the only one left who was a rake through and through. I always took what I wanted when I wanted and fuck the consequences. Why was this different?
Whitley was over Robert. That was more than clear. She’d been flirting with me relentlessly since we’d gotten here, like she had before she started dating him. Was this my cue to go for it?
I sank into a seat, and our bartender scurried up to my side. She was nearly as short as Whitley with flaming-red hair to her cinched-in waist. She wore tight white shorts and a crop that accented her brown skin.
She leaned in. “Ay, papi. What can I get you?”
“Shots,” Whitley said, dropping down on the other side of the bartender. The bartender swiveled to face her, and Whit gave her best come-hither look. “For both of us.”