Chapter 23
23
PENNY
As soon as I glance in the mirror, I know I’m going to be in big trouble. When I ordered this suit online, it sounded good in theory. Now that I’m coming face-to-face with my impulsive purchase, I’m silently regretting the punishment I’m going to endure later when Collins takes it out on my ass.
This suit is going to sign, seal, and deliver that promise.
I can almost feel the sting already.
It’ll be a mistake worth making—I’m sure. That man has a way of kissing and making things better.
I do feel good. Despite the weird tan lines that might develop if I don’t apply enough sunscreen, the suit is very comfortable—more than it looks.
And it covers all the essential parts, so really he shouldn’t be mad.
Consisting entirely of dark navy fabric, the one piece is a series of straps that wrap around my body. I look like I’m tied up in bondage, yet I am wearing more coverage than an average bikini.
But this thing is s-e-x-y. It’s way sexier than anything I’ve ever worn in the pool.
I toss my scattered items on the vanity back into my bag and do one last check in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, I open the door to exit—coming face-to-face with Collins.
Even when I’m frustrated with him, I can still find a way to admire his tenacity.
He flinches over my revealing outfit, not valuing my choice to be spontaneous. Nope. He is the man who craves consistency and predictability—of which I am neither. I think I make him nervous.
Collins trails his eyes over every inch of my body. Yup, he definitely doesn’t approve. It is written all over his face in a scowl.
I kind of like this.
It’s as if I’m holding a bit of the power.
Collins might be a man of few words, but he sure as hell makes up for it in the looks his eyes give me. There is the “are you serious” look. The “get the fuck over here” one… My favorite is his smoldering eyes expression that makes me gush between my legs. But the one that stops my heart dead in my tracks is the one he is giving me now. And it means to brace myself for the fallout.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re invading my personal space.” And he does it again. I sigh. “Seriously, stop doing that.”
If his eyes alone could talk, they would tell me to get the fuck out of Dodge. He might be calm and collected, but I know his simmering temper will only mean a sore ass by morning. And while I normally enjoy the chase, I do not enjoy the friction of clothes. And tomorrow I must wear them.
“Doing what, Penny?”
He has the nerve to look genuinely confused. Must I spell everything out? For an intuitive man, he seems to be missing the mark today.
“The possessive caveman thing. It’s creepy.”
“Is it?”
I huff out a breath. “Yes. It feels like I’m on the verge of being kidnapped and have no way of preventing it.”
“If I wanted to, I would. And I could make it look like an accident.”
“See?” I point my finger at his face in accusation. “That right there.”
“What?”
“The way your eyes darken, and it makes me actually believe what you are saying.”
“You should believe me,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Let’s get you a cheeseburger. I refuse to be your next meal.”
He takes a step forward. “You just might be.” His breathy words tickle my lips, he’s that close. “You are tasty.”
“Am I now?”
“Yes. Like drinking the sweetest nectar from a life-giving source.”
“Hmm…”
Collins’s kiss is hard and needy, just like the growing erection in his shorts. “I want to get drunk off your taste.”
After several seconds, I pull back. I can’t allow his seduction to keep me from saying my piece. For a man of few words, he seems to know the exact ones to use on me. But I can’t allow him to know that. He would use them against me any chance he got, and I would turn into a puddle. “And I want to get drunk off of actual tequila, because all of this”—I motion between us—“overprotective bullshit is making me anxious. I can’t control what other people do, and I shouldn’t pay a price for someone else’s actions.”
“If he touches you again, I won’t care who witnesses me breaking his hands.”
“No one is going to touch me. Not even you. This is why I need to buy batteries in bulk for my toys. Who needs a dick when you have a dildo?”
Taking my wrists, he pushes me back, pinning me effectively against the wall. Grinding his hips, he hits the right spot and I melt. My mouth opens as a moan escapes.
“Can your dildo do that?” he asks bluntly, releasing his hold.
He knows the answer. He knows the effect only he has over my entire body. Even my subconscious thoughts consist of him. He infiltrates every part of me.
When I’m awake, I think of Collins.
When I’m asleep, I still think of Collins.
But I can’t give him this satisfaction. I can’t allow him to think that he has won this battle—a battle that is still ongoing. I have approximately three more hours to be here, and if he thinks he can dictate every word out of my mouth that I speak to Ivan, then he has a big shock ahead. Because while we do have a contract in place, in no clause does it give him full authority over the people I associate with in my life.
“Penelope?”
“Hmm?”
“What did Ivan say to you when he whispered into your ear?”
Oh. That’s what has him so haughty… He hates the unknown. I want to dangle this secret information around as bait but decide to just be up-front. It doesn’t mean anything anyway. “He told me that when summer fades, hearts unite in the fallout. Hmm…it’s kind of poetic.”
“You’ve got to be joking me,” Collins says, busting out in laughter.
He doubles over.
I’ve actually never seen him this far gone.
I prop my hands on my hips, waiting for him to find composure. What is wrong with him? “I’m not joking.”
“He literally just fed you the lines from last summer’s Grace and Jace album. Do you women really fall for that shit?”
“You’re kidding?”
“We’ve already established that I don’t joke.”
This is true. But I’m more impressed that Collins was able to distinguish between song lyrics and bullshit. Impressive.
“On a scale of one to ten, with one being mildly annoying to ten being on me like a leech , what should I expect from you in the next thirty minutes?”
“Oh, that’s tricky,” he says, obviously humoring me.
“Well?”
“It’s off the charts.”
Damn. “Which side of the chart?”
He shrugs. “Hard to say.”
“You need to get some food in your system before you get really scary,” I say, pushing Collins toward the back door that leads out onto the deck. “I’ll be out in a few minutes as to not cause too much suspicion.”
“Fine.” Looking at me with hesitation in his eyes, Collins does what he’s told.
“Good boy.”
Oops.
Now he’s triggered again.
He points to his watch, tapping his finger along the face of it, to warn me that the time is coming for my punishment for all my sass.
I give him a couple of minutes and then head outside into the sunshine that warms my soul.
Collins’s and Ivan’s eyes are on me as I enter the party area again. This is my cue to get intoxicated. Only blurry vision will lessen the intensity of both of their stares.
So I make my way straight to the drink area and pour myself a mystery beverage from the dispenser labeled “Sex in the Driveway,” and before I can even take a sip, I’m choking in laughter over the name.
“Dad, you missed this detail during your quality control check,” I call out, making everyone look toward me. “Momma is calling her cocktail ‘Sex in the Driveway.’”
Dad shakes his head at her. “I thought that was our little secret.”
“Ew!” Graham, Nic, and I scream in unison.
“How does that name have anything to do with Labor Day?”
Momma’s smile is bursting at the seams. “Sometimes sex in hard places is a labor of love.”
I cover my ears dramatically, wishing I could erase my memory of this insight into my parents’ love life.
“Gross,” Nic hisses.
“Is the drink at least good?” I ask. If Momma made it, it will definitely be deceptively powerful.
“It’s way better than Sex on the Beach,” Momma says defensively. “And less painful. Sand is meant for the shore and not for the?—”
“Mom!” Nic and Graham scold, making everyone laugh.
Except Dad isn’t laughing. He’s just staring at her with adoration.
I swear they love each other a little bit more each day.
I take a sip of the carbonated fruity drink.
And another.
And just one more.
And by the time the song switches over on the sound system, I am pouring myself another glass full.
I guess I’m a fan of Sex in the Driveway.
I grab a slice of my flag cake and start eating it like a cupcake with my fingers, using sweets to distract myself from Collins’s eagle-eye solo staring contest he must be having with the side of my face.
I refuse to look his way.
Glancing over the icing and berries, I see Ivan perfecting the smoldering look.
Sheesh. He keeps doing that and I know Collins will bash in his face like a pinata.
My eyes flick back to Collins.
Seriously. He needs to take it down a notch.
The possessive thoughts are so obvious in how his eyes refuse to look away from me. It’s as if he is amping himself up to go to battle with my invisible suitors. If he thinks Ivan is interested in me other than getting a deeper foot into the architecture business with my dad, then he simply is jealous. And with each sip of my beverage, I’m feeling ballsy enough to tell him just so.
To distract myself, I decide now is the perfect time to text my man-child.
Penny: You so jelly
Collins: Drink some water, Penelope
Penny: Ur cum tastes better I wants to be your lil CUM SLUT
I sneak a glance his way, while biting my lip like a seductive self-cannibal. At least I feel sexy.
I’m on a roll with my good ideas too, so I better ride this wave until I crash.
Penny: I just want a man to devour me like I dessert
Penny: Shit—deserve. Ducking auto correlate
Penny: duck
I growl. What is wrong with this thing?
Penny: FUCK
Great.
Even my phone is drunk.
I toss it onto a lounger.
Stupid thing.
Meandering, I shovel more flag cake into my mouth, doing anything I can to ignore this tense…awkwardness. Does anyone else feel it or is it just me?
But then I swallow my bite way too soon. Bending over and coughing into the crook of my arm, I am immediately surrounded by both Collins and Ivan.
One’s a pit bull, and one’s a poodle…
“You okay, Penny?” they both ask in unison.
I continue coughing and then once it turns into laughter, I nearly dump my cocktail onto both of their feet.
How am I going to get through the next several hours with two men circling me like rabid dogs?
“Penny.”
I look up at Collins.
His features harden, moving from angry to livid, as if a switch was hit.
“I need to talk to you.”
I look at my nails. Nobody has time to micromanage everyone’s emotions right now. “Sounds serious.”
“It is.”
He gestures to a space in the corner away from Ivan, and with a predatory hand on my lower back, he ushers me there.
Is he freaking staking a claim at my family’s barbecue?
“You can’t tag me and bag me, you know?”
“Oh, I totally can.”
My eyes narrow. “What’s wrong? Why did you put baby in the corner?”
“You have icing on your lip.”
My fingers reach up to wipe it off. “That’s what you needed to separate me from the group to say?” I know he just wanted me away from Ivan. He’s being so obvious. “Do you want a bite of flag cake?”
His attentive gaze drags over my body, exploring me unabashedly and without any intrusion. Nothing is standing in the way of us—except the fact we are at my family’s barbecue.
“More than you know.”
“Hey, Penny,” Ivan says, joining us.
Jealousy erupts behind Collins’s eyes, causing him to curse under his breath, as my body tingles with the realization that later he will be exerting his possessiveness over me, reminding me just who owns me.
“What’s up?” Collins asks, before I can string together the words in greeting. “Ivan.”
Why is he saying his name so weird? It sounds weird. At least I think it does?
With eyes still trained on me, his silent command to be a good girl transfers between us. The problem is…I don’t want to be a good girl.
What I really want to do is smack him for his rudeness.
“I wanted to know if you wanted some cake with the berries.”
Collins snaps his head toward him as if he was brainless. “You mean another slice of the one she made and brought? You just spent the last eight minutes watching her eat some, an?—”
“Alrighty,” I say, clapping my hands together.
Both men stare at me, as if I’m about to give a speech. But what’s the point? We are just potentially drawing more attention to this area of the patio than necessary.
Ignoring them both, I walk myself into the pool, while licking smeared icing from my lips and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone who wants to piss all over my Labor Day parade.
Just when I’m feeling comfortable on a pool float, I see Momma arrive with a huge cardboard scoreboard sign.
This is her favorite thing about family gatherings, so I can’t help but smile over her enthusiasm.
“Who’s ready for the most epic game extravaganza yet?” she half screams. Then she hits a switch on the back of the board, and red, white, and blue lights turn on around the border.
“Wow, Momma. You upgraded again.”
“I’m glad you noticed, Penny,” she says with a beaming smile. “Your father is still reminding me about the horrible trophies I purchased last year and the hate-crime medallions that arrived for your birthday. So this time, I opted for something better—classic.”
“Oh, what’s that?” Angie asks.
“Ribbons. Like no one can mess up ribbons—right?”
“You did check to make sure everything is good with the shipment, right?” Dad asks her.
“No. I live for a good surprise reveal. It’s all the rage now with the young’uns on social media. So make sure you record me with a stellar filter. Make me look super fake.”
Oh boy…
Grabbing the box from the chair, Momma carries it over to the table underneath the canopy.
We watch as she struggles to get through the packing tape.
“Here,” Collins says, coming to her rescue. “I got it.”
Pulling out his knife, he has the box open in just seconds.
“Always the Boy Scout,” I mumble under my breath.
Sidling up beside me, he whispers, “I’m ready for everything—except for you.”
“You ready to lose?”
“You ready to watch me soar to victory?” Collins challenges.
“I come from a dynasty of game fanatics and a strong female role model. So strap in for the ride, because as you know, I play to win.” I glance around the area. “Where’s Ivan?”
“Who?”
I smack his arm. “The kid.”
“Oh.” He manages to look sad, but I know it’s fake. “Over there, playing cornhole by himself.”
“I’ll go get him.”
“No, don’t. He’s quite enjoyable when he’s being passive-aggressive.”
I roll my eyes. “I can’t be rude, Collins.”
“Fine.”
I run off toward Ivan. I hate that I feel stuck between my broody secret boyfriend and a boy who is a friend. It feels scandalous. The man I shouldn’t want is the one who I can’t stop obsessing over.
Ivan would be the easy choice.
But he’s not the man I want.
“Hey, Penny,” Ivan says, tossing a cornhole bag into the air and catching it. “Want to play?”
I shift my weight on my feet. “Well, actually, I think my parents are starting their famous round of group games. You’re welcome to join us.”
Ivan looks up at the patio area behind me and frowns. “Nah. I’m not much into party games.”
“Oh, gotcha. Okay. Well, feel free to come watch if you get bored down here.”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
I rush back to the group, hoping I didn’t miss out on any essential rules or stipulations.
Collins makes a face at me, and I swear he’s gloating over Ivan not wanting to join us. This guy really can’t help himself when he gets his way.
Making a drumroll on her upper thighs, Momma silences us and then pulls out of the box ribbons the size of leather belts.
“Wow. Those are intense,” Graham says with a laugh.
“They are customized too.”
“Why do they all say, ‘Congratulations Red Dragon Soccer’ on the front?” Claire asks, stifling her laughter.
“Oh, no. That was the default message. Mine probably didn’t save.”
“Did you click save?” Graham asks.
Momma looks at him pointedly. “Of course, son. I’m not silly. You aren’t the only one who’s good at the Internets.”
“Anyway,” Dad chimes in before Momma loses it on us all. “The first game is called Fill the Bucket, and it’s a relay race between two teams.”
Momma claps her hands and runs to the side of the patio to grab two stacks of buckets. One stack is red, and the other is blue. “Each team will line up in a row, and all members will hold a bucket. The starting bucket will be full of pool water.”
“Everyone will face the same direction,” Dad explains, “and then lift the bucket up and behind them to try to fill the next person’s bucket without looking. We will do this twice, so once you are done pouring, move to the back of the line to wait your turn again.”
“And the team at the end after both rounds with the most water in their buckets will win,” Momma cheers.
Claire, Nic, Momma, and Dad make up one team. Graham, Angie, Collins, and I make up the other team.
I laugh as Nic runs to grab Claire a chair, and at her reaction to his overreaction.
“You better not get me wet,” Collins says, as I stand in front of him with my bucket while Angie and Graham make up the front of our train.
Looking back over my shoulder, I bite my bottom lip and give him the look. “I’m already wet.”
His nose flares, and I know I’m going to get into so much trouble later for teasing him.
Oh well, you only live once.
“Get ready,” Momma announces, standing at the front of her team. “Get set.”
We all lift our buckets into position.
“GO!” Dad finally says, sparking the start of the water challenge.
Angie lifts the bucket over her head and pours it blindly into Graham’s empty one, only sloshing out a small amount. She moves to the back of the line, while Graham dumps his into mine, splashing out just a few drops. But when it’s my turn to pour next, my grip slips and the gasp of Collins lets me know that I at least hit a target.
Too bad it was the wrong one.
I can’t stop giggling. “Oops.”
“Yeah, right. Oops ,” he says with mirth.
* * *
It’s on the third refill, courtesy of Claire who claims I am drinking one for her, that I start to feel like my stomach is a firework about to go off if I don’t supplement its contents with some carbs.
Leaning over the side of the pool, I stretch with all my might until I can pull my swim bag closer to me without getting out.
Feeling brave, I type a message out to my gatekeeper.
Penny: I wanna be your little cum slut. Like one of those hottie girls from Limit-X. To do with as you pleassssse.
Hitting send, I scan the space to see where Collins is. Why can’t I find him?
And then I hear the sound of coughing and…
There he is. Making eye contact from across the patio, I watch as he types out a response.
Collins: No more alcohol for you.
I send him an animated graphic of a cartoon liver throwing up.
Trying to pull myself up on the side of the pool, I fall back into the water and start giggling.
Oops.
This is harder than I thought.
Then I feel strong hands at my waist and the feeling of going airborne.
“Need a lift?”
It’s Ivy.
Haaaa….
That’s not her name.
Her name is Ivan.
Him.
His.
At least I think he’s real. He did kind of materialize out of thin air. Where did he even come from?
But then I remember Collins’s threats.
Oh, hell. “Get your hands off me if you want to keep them attached to your arms.”
“What?” Ivan asks.
My head spins around trying to see where Collins is, and the sudden motion makes me queasy. “Gonna be sick.”