Chapter Twelve
Amiya
I take the shot and slam the glass down on the table.
“Wanna play strip poker?” I ask Lennon, who is sitting across from me.
It’s just us, Sebastian, and Avie. Everyone else is out on the beach.
He grins and shakes his head. “I’m not getting naked in front of my brother’s fiancée.”
I raise a brow. “At least you’re smart enough to know you’d lose.”
“I know a shark when I see one, sweetheart,” he states.
I lean my elbows onto the table and meet his stare. “Okay, how about Truth or Dare? I mean, if you’re not too chicken.”
Avie’s eyes dart between the two of us with concern, but Sebastian just chuckles.
“I’m not skinny-dipping in the ocean, Legs.”
“Come on, Lennon. Don’t be a stick in the mud,” I say as I fill the empty shot glass from the bottle of vodka and slide it to him. “Truth or dare?”
He wraps his hand around the glass. “Dare.”
Sebastian’s chair scoots across the floor, and my eyes shoot to him at the sound.
“As much as I want to see how this little game plays out, I’m not in the mood to see my brother’s junk tonight. Come on, baby. Let’s go check out the beach.”
He reaches for Avie, and her eyes come to me as she takes his hand.
Behave. You promised , she mouths.
The two of them walk out of the kitchen, leaving Lennon and me alone.
I look back at him. “I dare you to go shot for shot with me,” I say.
He picks up the glass, and without breaking our stare, he turns it up. I watch as his throat contracts. He sets the glass back on the table and gives it a flick, sliding it back over to me.
“Word of advice: never agree to go shot for shot with a sailor, sweetheart. Truth or dare?” he says.
There’s a hint of a challenge to the statement, and a shiver runs through me at his tone. The dare was meant to get him to loosen up a bit, but I might have bitten off more than I can chew.
“Truth,” I say as I refill the glass.
“Are you sleeping with Anson?”
The question catches me off guard, but I try to keep the surprise off my face and my voice even as I answer, “Not tonight.”
I smile as I look up and hold his eyes when I down the shot.
“Truth or dare, Sailor.”
He snatches the glass from my fingers and grabs the bottle. He fills the glass and downs a shot before answering, “Truth.”
“Is there a woman back in Virginia watching your Facebook like a hawk and wondering why you didn’t bring her with you to your brother’s wedding?” I ask.
“I don’t have Facebook or any of that shit,” he says as he hands the glass back to me.
“You don’t have any social media? No Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, or whatever Twitter is called now?” I ask in disbelief.
“No.”
“What are you, a caveman?”
He smirks. “Nope. Just a man who doesn’t give a shit about the opinions of thousands of people he’ll never meet or cares to meet.”
He picks up the bottle and fills the shot glass for me.
“Hmm, seems suspect to me,” I say as I take it. My tongue is numb to the bitter liquid now.
“Truth or dare?” he asks.
“Hey, you didn’t answer my question,” I accuse.
“Yes, I did. I have no social media; therefore, no one’s back home, stalking it.”
I scowl at him.
“Truth or dare?” he repeats.
“Truth.”
“Is there a man back home, keeping tabs on you?” he asks.
“Lately, I’ve preferred my own company to that of a man.”
He tips his head back. “So, you aren’t dating?”
“Sometimes.”
He nods, but I can read the impatience on his face. He doesn’t like the way I skirt around his questions.
“I’m not seeing anyone in particular. No,” I say.
He shakes his head.
“What?” I ask.
“From where I’m sitting, I’d think your calling card was stacked. A beautiful, young, single woman.”
“I’ve been taking the time to court myself, I guess.”
“Court yourself?”
“Yes. I’ve taken myself on dates. I’ve traveled alone. Gone to the movies alone. Even eaten at a fancy restaurant alone. How can I expect anyone else to value my company if I don’t enjoy it?” I ask.
That seems to satisfy him.
“Me too. However, the company of an equally intriguing human being is nice too,” he murmurs.
I raise a brow. “Touché.”
He smiles.
I lean over the table to whisper, “Besides, self-induced orgasms aren’t nearly as satisfying, are they?”
His eyes flare, and he meets my stare and holds it as he downs his shot.
“Truth or dare, Sailor?”
“Truth.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask.
His brow furrows. “Call you when?”
“Anytime in the last nine months. I put my number in your phone,” I say as I snatch it from where it sits on the table. I tap the screen until I find his Contacts and scroll to my name. I lift the screen to him. “See? Amiya Chelton—that’s me.”
“You put that in my phone?” he says.
I wiggle the device in his face. “Yes. I just said that,” I say.
He reaches up and takes it from my hand. “I thought Sebastian did that,” he mutters.
“Why would Sebastian put my number in your phone?” I ask, confused.
“To mess with me. I guess I was wrong,” he says.
I shrug and take my shot. “No biggie. My turn. Truth.”
“You said the other night that your grandmother and Avie were your two people. What about your parents?” he asks.
I hold my hand out for the bottle, and he pulls it out of my reach.
“You already did your shot,” he says.
“If you want me to answer that question, I’m going to need another,” I say.
He debates for a moment and then reluctantly hands it over.
I pour myself another shot, throw it back, and then look him in the eye. “I don’t have any.”
I lean into Lennon’s side as he guides us down the beach toward the cabana.
He was correct. I should’ve never agreed to go shot for shot with a sailor.
Tripping over my own feet, I topple over and land in the sand in a fit of giggles.
Lennon reaches down, threads his arms under mine, and pulls me back up, mumbling something about drunk women as he knocks sand from my backside.
“I’m clumsy, okay? It’s my one flaw,” I say in my defense.
“Just one, huh?”
“Yep. God knew if he made me any more perfect, I’d rule the world,” I declare, throwing my arms wide as I teeter on my legs.
Lennon’s big hand shoots out to steady me. “Glad he could keep you humble,” he quips.
After our tense game ended when Anson and Parker raided the kitchen for snacks, I stood from the table and promptly fell onto my ass, but Lennon, unfazed by our drinking game, came around and lifted me to my feet.
He helped me out to the beach, where Sebastian and Avie were sitting by the fire with Lisa and Savannah. Depositing me next to them, he started pumping me full of water.
It helped, but my legs still feel like Jell-O.
We reach the cabana, and he leads me up the stairs to the deck. His hand is on my lower back as I carefully climb the steps to the back door. I stand, propped against the frame, as he pulls out the key to let us in.
He swings the door wide and moves back. “Ladies first,” he says as he swings his arm out, prompting me to enter.
“My hero,” I coo as I slide past him.
“Yep, that’s me, Mr. Knight in Fucking Shining Armor,” he says as he follows me.
I drop my heels I was carrying to the floor and walk to the sink. I turn on the faucet, snatch a paper towel off the roll, and dampen it.
Grabbing the edge of the counter, I lift my right leg and swiftly end up on my ass again.
Lennon’s face appears over the island, and he peers down at me. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Washing the sand off my feet.”
He walks around and plucks me up by the waist. He sets me on one of the barstools.
“Don’t move,” he commands as he disappears down the hallway.
He returns a moment later with a washcloth in his hand. He fishes a bowl out of the cabinet and fills it with warm water, then comes back to me. He sets the bowl on the island and dips the cloth in it before lowering himself to a knee. Taking my right foot into his hand, he removes the sand, and then he moves to the left foot and does the same.
His thumb gently brushes over a bruise on the top of my left foot, and he looks up.
“Did I do that with my stellar dance moves earlier?” he asks.
I nod.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, but I’m pretty numb at the moment. Ask me again in the morning,” I say.
He places a kiss on the top of my foot and lets it go, and then he stands. “There you go. All clean.”
“Thank you.”
I scoot off the stool, and he offers his hand to steady me. I tilt my face up to look at him. He’s so damn handsome. His chiseled jaw has a smattering of stubble, like he’s skipped a day or two of shaving, and his intense navy eyes, framed with long, dark lashes, are boring into mine.
He swallows, and my eyes flicker to his throat. If I were to lean in just a bit, I could lick his Adam’s apple. I tuck my face into his neck and run my nose up under his jaw, dragging my lips over his skin.
“Legs.”
His strangled call brings my eyes back to him.
“You should probably get some sleep. You have breakfast with the girls in the morning.”
“Right,” I whisper.
He takes a step backward, breaking our connection, and disappointment hits me, followed by the sting of embarrassment.
What am I doing?
“Good night,” I say as I slip around him and head down the hall.
I stumble into the room and slide out of my dress before crawling under the covers.
I promised Avie I would keep my hands to myself, and there I was, letting my nose assault Lennon’s throat like I was a cat in heat.
I’m tired and a little drunk. That’s all. I just need a good night’s rest.
I roll to my back and close my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but my traitorous mind fills with thoughts of him.
The way his eyes watched me all night, the way his hands held me firmly but gently as he led me to the cabana, and the delicious way he smelled as I buried my nose in his neck.
My hand glides down my abdomen, unbidden, to the building ache between my legs.
The silk thong I’m wearing tonight is already damp as I picture his naked chest and powerful thighs.
I hook them with my thumbs and slide them down my legs and groan as a finger grazes my sensitive clit before dipping into the wet depths.
Oh, yes.
My body bucks off the bed, causing the comforter to fall away, and the cool air caresses my hot skin as I pump it in and out, whimpering as I imagine it’s his finger and tongue entering me.
I add a second finger as I edge closer to my release, wishing I had dragged him in here with me when I had the chance.
Strangled moans escape my lips, and I cry out his name as I feel the pressure building in my belly, but before it makes it up my spine, the bedroom door swings wide. The crashing of the wood against the wall causes my eyes to fly open to see Lennon standing on the threshold.
His eyes are blazing as they sweep down my body to where I’m touching myself.
“I didn’t invite you, Sailor,” I gasp as I meet his stare.
“Yes, you did,” he growls, grabbing the collar of his tee and pulling it over his head as he stalks toward me.
Thank God.
I feel electrified and anxious, all at once, as he tosses the shirt aside and reaches for the zipper of his pants. Removing my hand, I come up onto my elbows and scoot up the mattress to get a better view.
“I heard your cries for assistance from across the hall,” he says as he kicks his pants to the side, revealing the outline of his massive cock straining against his briefs.
Hunger radiates from him as he prowls up the bed, covering me with his big, strong body.
“I had everything under control,” I whisper against his lips as he fists my hair and tugs my head back.
“The hell you did,” he says before crashing his mouth to mine.
I’ve never felt so small.
So exposed.
So wanted.
And damn if I don’t want him too.