Of course not. This is a royally bad idea. This is kindergarten, and I’m not in the mood for hide-and-seek, or whatever else is going on here.
Ash drags me along before I can sort out my thoughts. There’s a blanket on the grass with baskets and Tupperware, but everyone is in the water, as Asher predicted. I can see Audrey and Erin, splashing in the lake, and talking with a brunette I don’t know.
They look happy. They look like they’re having fun.
Time to hightail it out of here.
I turn, but then I see Dakota at the water’s edge, and I just stop and gape. Can’t help it. Fucking hell.
She’s wearing a yellow bikini top and hot shorts that leave her slender legs bare. Her dark hair with its pink streaks is caught up in a wild ponytail, and she’s eating a red popsicle.
Correction: she’s licking a red popsicle, and her expression… Eyes closed, mouth wrapped around the ice… Giving it a goddamn blow job, and she looks like she’s having an orgasm, right there, in front of me. She hasn’t seen me yet, and it makes it all that much hotter.
This chick’s killing me. There’s nothing I want more in the world right now than to throw her to the grass and enter her, fill her up and thrust into her until she screams my name. And then… taste those lips, so full and pouty, tasting the sweetness of the ice cream on her tongue.
Oh shit, this ain’t good. Not good at all. I need to go before I lose my last shred of control.
A heavy arm swings around my shoulders, holding me in place and drenching me in cold water. “See something you like, Zen-man?” Dylan drawls.
I keep my gaze forward. It’s a much nicer view, anyway. “None of your business, fucker.”
At the sound of our voices, Dakota turns, her eyes round. The popsicle almost falls from her hand, and I step forward to rescue it. Can’t have that.
If possible, her eyes go even rounder as I offer it back. “Zane?” She glances down at the popsicle and takes it. Her hand shakes slightly. “I thought you were working.”
“Tyler kicked me out.”
She smiles, and God, I need to taste her lips. I mean, I’m not just hard. It fucking hurts, that’s how hard I am. And she’s looking at me like she doesn’t have a clue, the yellow bikini hugging her small, round breasts and the shorts riding low, exposing her flat, golden belly and smooth legs.
“Gonna grab a drink,” Dylan says, his voice distant in my ears. “I’ll bring you one.”
Who gives a fuck? I take a step toward Dakota, and her mouth opens. No words come out.
“Your popsicle is melting,” I whisper, and she jerks.
“True,” she whispers back and smiles. It makes her blue eyes narrow.
“Can I get you another one?”
She points at a cooler in the shade of a tree, and I’m there and back before she even lowers her hand. Look, I can move at the
speed of light. Call me Super Zane. Hey, it’s an important mission. Have to see Dakota lick her popsicle. I feel as if my life depends on it.
“Here,” I say. “It’s on me.”
“Is it?” This time she watches me as she peels off the wrapper and wraps her mouth around the long red cone.
Oh, baby. Holy shit. She’s distracting all right, taking my mind off all the shit lurking in the corners of my head. This is just what I need. Perfect diversion.
But something in my chest clenches, and sweat breaks on my face. What’s this? It’s as if she’s scaring me, and that’s bullshit. She’s just a pretty chick. Maybe it’s because she’s different from what I’m used to, her curves slight and smooth. I usually go for bigger tits, bigger asses.
So what? A pussy’s a pussy.
I hear voices behind me, but I’m transfixed by Dakota’s strawberry lips around the ice, her tongue licking the underside. Fucking it with her mouth.
Her eyes travel over my body, stopping at my crotch. She gives her popsicle a long, lazy lick, and my dick twitches. My throat has gone dry. I’m in serious danger of shooting my load.
“Excuse me,” a voice says by my ear, and the next moment hands go under my armpits, and someone grabs my legs, swinging me up into the air.