Chapter 17
SUDDENLY, MY MOUTH WAS DRY, AND MY BIKINI BOTTOM WAS DECIDEDLY NOT.
BILLIE
I’d been psyching myself up to see Darcy since the moment I opened my eyes this morning, telling myself it’s just a regular day at the beach. I repeated his last name over and over so I wouldn’t mess up and call him Peter, like I always seem to want to do.
When I put on my bikini, I remembered how I’d told myself I’d buy something less revealing and far less pink this year, but of course, I forgot. I’m never letting Neve’s sister, Georgia, pick anything out for me to wear ever again.
I should have prepared better for the arrival of Peter Darcy in swim trunks and a faded T-shirt with his wavy, perfectly tousled hair.
It made me weak at the knees, even though I was lying down.
But his eyes scanning and memorizing every inch of my body as he looked down at me made it impossible to stay mad at my frilly little excuse for beachwear.
It was nice to have a temporary moment of control, where I had the upper hand.
That is, until it was snatched away from me by stupidly perfect abs, and pecs, and that little trail of blond hair from his navel to the gorgeous dick I can picture even through his swim trunks.
He took off his shirt in a perfect, slow-motion swoop, placing his towel on the sand and sprawling down next to me, like we’ve done this a million times before.
Suddenly, my mouth was dry, and my bikini bottom was decidedly not.
The smell of his cologne mixed with whatever fancy sunscreen he must have put on was blown in my direction by the traitorous wind, and I swiftly went back to my previous position, lying on my stomach.
I don’t need my best friend or her boyfriend taking note of how quickly my nipples hardened at the sight of a man’s torso. It’s pathetic.
Before I let my sunglasses fall back down, Neve’s giggle and “psst” force my gaze her way.
She gestures to her own chest, circling around her boobs as she juts her chin toward the man next to me.
Then she makes an exaggerated, shocked face, bringing one hand up to her face to hide her next silent words from Leo.
“So hot,” she mouths at me, another little giggle escaping her.
“I heard that, Snow,” Leo says in a low, gruff voice I have no business hearing. And that’s precisely when I avert my eyes from the couple who is undoubtedly about to do something sweet and couple-y, only to have them land on Peter’s chest. On one pierced nipple. And then the other.
I clench my jaw, put my sunglasses back on, and pretend to read my smutty novel for the next thirty minutes while he falls asleep next to me, occasionally humming softly or shifting to scratch his nose, or his stomach, or his thigh.
Yep. I note every move, because what else am I going to do with my time? Read beyond the one sentence I’ve been stuck on since he arrived? Unlikely.
Another hour into this nonsense, and after my kindle has locked for the third time due to my lack of flipping any pages, I decide I’ve had enough and head to the shore to dip my feet in.
The water freezing, and while there are a few brave souls in past their belly buttons, they are either children, not from here, or accustomed to the frigid waters of the south shore.
My eye catches on a little girl learning to balance on her surfboard.
Her laughter is infectious. “Mom, are you watching?” she asks after she manages to stand up for a few seconds, quickly toppling into the water.
They high-five each other in matching wetsuits, and the kid gets back on the board for another round. I could never.
In my distracted state, I must miss whatever noise was being made behind me. I turn in time to see Peter running into the water, splashing everywhere. By the time he’s taken three massive leaps into the ocean, he’s screaming so loudly, nearly the entire beach population is staring at him.
With eyes threatening to pop out of my head, I watch in horror as he freezes in place, still screaming bloody murder. I don’t even bother to try to hide my laughter. This is too good, though I’m starting to worry he’s going to stay there and literally freeze.
But no, he makes a move to run out of the ice bath he’s found himself in, looking absolutely terrified. His movements are slower this time, though, given that he’s wading through water and probably can’t feel his feet anymore.
“Help me,” he wails once he’s about knee deep. I shake my head, unable to speak thanks to my laughing fit. “Oh my G-God. H-holy shit.” His words come out through clattering teeth, and a tear rolls down my cheek as I hold my stomach, watching on.
“That… was… incredible,” I sputter through my never-ending giggles.
“What the fuck, Beth? Why the hell is the water glacial?” He rubs his arms, his hands, any part of his body he can reach in an attempt to warm himself up.
“Everyone knows the water here is ice cold.” I keep giggling, and he steps closer, eyes squinting with mischief.
I don’t have time to run before he’s got his arms outstretched, coming toward me for a hug.
“No!” I scream. But either my excessive laughing or the thought of Peter chasing me have turned my legs to Jell-O.
I don’t get far before his cool, wet chest is pressed against my back.
“You could have at least offered to warm me up, darling.” While his body is icy, his breath is warm on my neck.
His entire front presses against my back, and his arms wrap around me, holding me firmly—but not so tightly I can’t free myself if I want to.
All of it causes my temperature to rise.
I should walk away, but before my brain catches up with my body, or vice versa, he’s the one pulling away, his low chuckle making me shiver.
Spinning to face him is a mistake. With his hands on his hips, hair disheveled and damp from all the splashing, he is a proper snack.
My eyes catch on a drop of saltwater traveling from his pierced nipple over his abs and eventually landing on the band of his shorts.
I lift my eyes, bracing for him to make a comment about my ogling.
“Fuck, that was cold. Is it always like this?” We’re a respectable distance apart, and he’s making small talk. This is… confusing. As he raises a hand to run through his hair, he pauses to wave at our friends, flipping Leo the middle finger as his eyes dart back to mine.
“Um, pretty much, yeah. The north shore is warmer, but down here, it’s pretty much always cold.” I shrug, chuckling a little more at the memory of his shrieks. “You scream like a little girl.”
He scoffs, not at all fazed. “Yeah, well, you try having your balls shrivel up inside your body and see if you don’t let out a few high-pitched shrieks.”
“I’m good,” I respond, not fighting my smile.
He gifts me with a wide grin of his own, shaking his head. “Yeah, Elizabeth Cameron. You sure are.” His eyes flick back to me as he sighs. “I’m gonna go dry off and lick my wounded ego for a bit. Don’t get frostbite on your toes out there, all right?”
“Uh-huh.”
His gaze rakes over every inch of me, and I feel it from the top of my head to the ends of my toes. When he begins his walk back to our spot, I inhale deeply, wondering if I’ll be the one to need a cold plunge next.