Chapter Thirteen Cash #3
A second later she slid off my lap and grabbed the oar.
Just like that, we were embroiled in a splash war that left the two of us soaked, which should have calmed my dick the fuck down.
Then I glanced at Saylor’s laughing face and in my peripheral vision caught her wet bikini clinging to her breasts.
Clenching my jaw against my dick’s immediate reaction to her gorgeous body, I reached for my mostly wet towel and ran it over my head and my chest, mercilessly scrubbing away my lust with the water droplets still sliding over my skin.
“Well, that’s one way to kill the mood,” she said, her eyes dancing.
“Your friends are assholes,” I grumbled.
Saylor laughed again. “Do you have another beer in that magic cooler?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Plus, brownies for dessert.”
“Brownies? Really? They’re my favorite, especially if they have nuts in them.” She all but bounced on her bench seat in anticipation, apparently oblivious to her innuendo.
I chuckled as I grabbed a couple of beers and the container of brownies—which were indeed baked with walnuts. She sat back on the seat across from me, damn it. Still, the sparkle in her eyes lit me up as though she were sitting right next to me.
“Okay, Ace. I confess, this has been one of the most fun dates I’ve ever been on.” She saluted me with a brownie before sinking her teeth into it with a moan that left me jealous of a baked good.
“I promised you a good time, and like I told you, I always deliver.” I winked over the rim of my beer, enjoying how her features gave away the war going on inside her between rolling her eyes and laughing.
In the end, she grinned around another bite of brownie, and I worked my ass off at playing it cool.
It was too early in the evening to gloat about how this was our first date—and a long way from being our last.
I already knew I wanted more than one date with Saylor.
That desire had as much to do with how fun she was as it did with that inferno of a kiss we’d shared.
Because, yeah, I’d have to be dead not to be attracted to her physically.
It wasn’t only her hot body and her even hotter kisses that had kept her in my thoughts for months after that frat party, or that had made this date such a good time.
It was that sparkle in her arresting amber eyes—the one that said, “Look out, boy. The party is just beginning,” or, “You have no idea what’s coming next, but I promise it’s going to blow your mind,” or, “I’m so many steps ahead of you, you’ll still be running after me tomorrow.
” The girl was pure fire, and the more time I spent with her, the more time I wanted.
“What?” I asked.
There was that sparkle again. “You’re staring.”
Instead of owning that, I leaned forward and took my time to lick a crumb of fudgy brownie from the corner of her mouth with just the tip of my tongue. When I leaned back, I clocked her eyes had darkened to that honey-whiskey that told me she was turned on. Then she narrowed them.
Before she could call me out for my moves, I said, “Sorry. You had some brownie there, and I forgot napkins.”
“Uh-huh.”
My shrug was unapologetic. “Wouldn’t want you to look like a brownie-waster.”
A growl escaped her before she burst out laughing, the happy sound echoing off the rimrocks lining this part of the river.
“A brownie-waster?” She snorted. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re gorgeous, especially when you’re having a good time.”
Ignoring my comment, she took a swig from her beer, kicked back against the side of the raft, and popped the last bite of brownie in her mouth. “You’re not like other guys I’ve dated.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I crushed my empty beer can and tossed it into the cooler. Shooting her a genuine smile, I said, “For the record, you’re way more fun than other women I’ve dated.”
In the waning daylight, I couldn’t be sure if the color rising on her cheeks was from the sunset reflecting off the water or her response to my compliment.
Didn’t matter. Saylor with the setting sun bathing her in golden light was radiant, and I didn’t even attempt to stop staring at her, committing her in this moment to memory.
Out of nowhere, she asked, “Why chiropractic?”
I pulled a bottled water from the cooler, uncapped it, and swallowed half.
“My mom sent me to a chiropractor after watching me take some big hits during JV football freshman year of high school. The treatments made all the difference in the way I felt and better prepared me to take the hits QBs always attract.” I capped the water and set in the cupholder on the cooler.
“So many problems can be alleviated with massage and chiropractic.” Then I grinned. “Plus, I’m very good with my hands.”
She shot me a smirk. “There he is.”
My brow went up in question.
“The cocky quarterback.”
“Comes with playing the position. So tell me again why you’re averse to football.”
“Averse. Nice vocabulary.” Her eyes danced. “I’m not averse to the game, only the players. As in, dating them.”
I gave a sage nod. “Ah. I can see how dating a football player wouldn’t be a good time.”
She leaned a bit to the side and sent a handful of cold water over my chest. When she reached down again, I said, “Careful. You wouldn’t want to accidentally fall overboard.”
After a slight hesitation, she aimed another handful of cold river water directly at me. When I clamped my hand around her delicate ankle, she stilled.
“You wouldn’t.”
For a long beat I let her think about it, her eyes growing wider with incredulousness.
Then I tugged her forward across the water-slicked bottom of the raft until she was glaring up at me from between my knees.
Right as she opened her mouth to protest, I cupped her face in my palms, leaned down, and brushed a soft kiss over her lips.
“Admit it, sweetheart,” I whispered against her mouth. “This date has been nothing but a good time.” Then I brushed another lazy kiss over the velvety petals of her lips.
A muted sigh escaped her as she leaned into the kiss.
Wrapping her hands around my wrists, she held us together while I let myself enjoy her surrender.
The raft bumping along the side of a boulder near the shoreline dragged us out of our intimate conversation, and she sat back with a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle.
“Okay, yeah. You delivered on showing me a good time.”
Grabbing the oar, I paddled us back to the middle of the stream while Saylor resumed her seat across from me.
“Told you I keep my promises.”
“That you did.” She gazed out at the water where the apricot glow of the setting sun had deepened to a fiery orange reflection. “Being out here on the water at this time of evening is gorgeous.”
“It certainly is,” I agreed—only, my gaze was on the stunning woman across from me, which was all the scenery that interested me.
“The idea of floating the river at this time of day didn’t appeal to me, which was another reason I didn’t sign up for the pledge party with the house. But after experiencing it—”
“With me,” I interrupted.
She smirked. “With you, I’m glad I said yes.”
“Meaning you’re going to give me another chance to show you a good time.” It wasn’t a question.
She didn’t say anything, which with someone else would have worried me.
But during the few short times I’d spent with Saylor, I’d paid close attention to her tells.
The sly looks she kept sending me from beneath her brows said my interest in her was reciprocated.
Perhaps that interest was against her better judgment, what with her “aversion” to dating football players, but it existed all the same.
All too soon we were floating next to the takeout area. From the river I could see the van I’d reserved idling near the dock. When we walked over to it, Saylor glanced at me in dismay. “That splash war with the SCRs left me with a soaked towel.”
Though she tried to remain stoic, I caught her shiver and reached into the cooler. “Don’t worry. I got you.” I handed her one of the vacuum-sealed bags and watched her face light up.
“Wow. You thought of everything.” She popped the seal and tugged a dry towel from the plastic.
Rolling my shoulders, I grinned. “What can I say? I’m a quarterback. Thinking ahead comes with the territory.”
“I think I should be worried about that.”