Chapter Twenty
I turn to see Scott eyeing me and my knees go weak.
While my tequila-soaked sex organs are urging me to pick Hot Scott, if I were being honest with myself, I’m a little scared of being intimate with him.
I mean, he’s like the Discovery space shuttle of sex .
. . and I’m . . . space junk? Hmm . . . it’s harder to come up with analogies when you’re intoxicated.
Plus, even though I’d never admit it to Andrew, what he told me is still swimming around in the back of my head somewhere.
I look past Scott and see Madison and TC holding hands, and I’m immediately convinced that my friends deserve this.
They’re forming a meaningful connection, whereas all I know about Scott is an adjective that rhymes with his name and the fact that he’s from Queens.
So I take a deep breath and say, “Actually, Shantae, I think I want to gift it to the people I think deserve it the most.” I hand the golden key card to Madison and TC.
“Are you sure, Grace?” Madison asks. “But you’ll have to stay in the shack.”
Oh yeah, definitely didn’t remember that little detail. But I just shrug. “It’s all part of the experience, right?”
“And that must be why you’re America’s Favorite!” Shantae says as Beth Anne rolls her eyes.
Madison immediately launches herself at me, and TC wraps his arms around both of us. “Thank you so much, Grace!” he says. Then Ciara and Javier are joining in on this impromptu group hug until we all start laughing.
From somewhere inside the hug, Ciara yells, “This calls for shots!”
The next thing I know I’m doing another tequila shot, despite Madison’s angelic protests. And then a DJ materializes and music starts playing. The formerly classy cocktail party turns into a poolside nightclub complete with strobe lights and a dance floor.
I haven’t gone out dancing much in my life, and I’m not what you would call coordinated, but I’m drunk and happy and don’t care what I look like.
I bounce around merrily with Madison and Ciara, and even dance with Javi for a little until Hot Scott comes over and asks to cut in.
I giggle because it sounds so Victorian.
But when Scott pulls me close, his hands on my hips, and we gyrate to the music, it feels anything but.
The song has a slow but pulsing, sexy beat. Because of the heels Ciara made me wear, certain parts of me line up with certain parts of Scott in a very nice way.
He’s taken off his devil mask, so I see the naughty twinkle in his eyes when he leans in and says, “So you’d rather sleep in the shack than hook up with me?”
I shyly avert my gaze. “Sorry. I was trying to be a good friend.”
“But you’re also scared of me.”
I laugh nervously, wishing I still had my social lubricant Chardonnay. But instead, I answer truthfully. “I just don’t think I’m as experienced as you.”
Scott slowly looks me up and down. “Trust me, Grace, there is nothing you could do that I wouldn’t find sexy. And I’m happy to teach you whatever you want to learn.”
He reaches around and grabs my ass, pulling me even closer. I gasp when I realize he’s hard. Like really hard. And God, it feels good being pressed up against him as he rolls his hips to the beat of the music.
After a few minutes, Scott asks in a low voice, “Do you want to go in the hot tub with me?”
“Now?” I ask. I glance over at the far side of the pool where the hot tub is. It’s dark over there and away from everyone else.
“Yeah.”
I look down at what I’m wearing. I guess if I take off my tights and garters, I’m basically wearing a bathing suit. “What are you going to wear?”
“Nothing,” he says, and my heart stumbles.
“Okay,” my mouth answers before my prude brain can catch up.
Scott takes my hand and starts to lead me off the dance floor. But Madison steps in our way. “Sorry, Scott. I have a quick question for my girl. One sec.”
Madison pulls me out of earshot and whispers, “Where are you going?”
“The hot tub. Tub. Tuuub. That’s a funny word.”
“You’re drunk, Grace, and everyone knows the hot tub is code for hooking up.”
“It is?”
Ciara comes over. “What’s going on? Why are we whispering?”
“Grace is going in the hot tub with Scott,” Madison says disapprovingly.
“Nice! Get after it!” Ciara says, giving me a high-five.
“She’s extremely drunk!” Madison counters with a loud whisper.
“Do you want to hook up with Hot Scott?” Ciara asks me.
“You’re the ones who told me about the revenge hookup!” I answer. Ciara looks at Madison and shrugs. Then I burst out laughing. “Angel and Devil . . . still funny.”
I catch Madison giving Ciara a look, but Ciara points to the cameras surrounding us. “There are cameras everywhere, Mad. She’s fine.”
Madison sighs and says to me, “Just be careful, Grace. And don’t do anything you’re not ready for, okay?”
What could possibly happen in a hot tub other than kissing and splashing? So I shrug and say, “Okay, bye!” Then I skip over to Scott.
Scott takes my hand and pulls me toward the hot tub. It really is out of the eyeline of the rest of the party, and it suddenly feels very secluded. Scott starts to unbutton his pants, and I cover my eyes. He laughs, then a moment later says, “I’m in now, you can look.”
I peek through my fingers and see him sitting in the water. I kick off my heels, then bend over and start unhooking the garters. I slowly take off my thigh-highs, and I notice Scott is watching my every move. “God, you are so fucking hot,” he says.
I ride that wave of confidence over to the hot tub, walk down the steps in my lacy, white body suit, and sit down next to him.
“Come here,” he says, his voice gravelly. He takes my hand and pulls me on top of him. “That’s better,” he groans as I straddle his lap. I can feel his erection pressing against me, all the way up to my stomach.
I look down and see that there’s only a very thin piece of lace between us right now. There’s something I feel like I’m supposed to remember that Madison told me, but the thought of a naked Scott underneath me is very distracting.
“Oh shoot,” I say, standing up and moving away from him as I suddenly remember. “We’re not supposed to be off camera.” I back up and sit across from him on the other side of the hot tub.
Scott laughs and motions to a camera pointed right at us.
Well, shit. I’m either drunker than I thought or I’ve gotten so used to there being so many cameras around that I don’t even notice them anymore.
I also now understand why they say alcohol lowers your inhibitions.
I’m pretty sure sober me would never make out in a hot tub on TV, but I don’t currently seem to care.
But then I realize my white angel costume is now very wet and very see-through.
I quickly cover my hard nipples with my hands as Scott floats over to my side of the hot tub and kneels in front of me.
He settles in between my legs and begins kissing my neck.
All thoughts of cameras disappear. Scott moves my hands away from my breasts and places his hands there instead.
He begins squeezing and my hips move involuntarily.
I lean into him as he pinches my nipple through the lacy fabric and suddenly I’m writhing around. “Do you like that, Grace?” he whispers into my ear. I think I nod yes, but it’s hard to tell because I’ve lost control of my body.
His hands keep roaming as his kisses lazily make their way from my ear to my jaw and then finally, a soft, teasing kiss on my lips. But when I kiss him back, there’s nothing teasing or soft about it.
Scott immediately pulls me off the hot tub seat and on top of him and kisses me back just as hard.
The friction is driving me crazy and I’m already so turned on.
Then one of his hands leaves my ass and finds it way between my legs.
As he touches me, I feel pressure building and I squeeze his shoulders tighter.
I’m seconds from Scott taking me over the edge when I hear, “What the hell is going on over here?”
I pull away from Scott’s mouth and see Andrew walking toward us. It takes me a second to register it’s even him.
“Well, if it isn’t the Buzzkill,” Scott says, annoyed. “We’re not breaking the rules, there’s a camera rolling.”
“What about ethics?” Andrew asks, his voice gritty with barely controlled anger. Then he turns to the camera operator and motions for him to stop filming. The second the cameraman walks away, Andrew spins on Scott. “You think it’s okay to hook up with a woman who’s had too much to drink?”
I stand up. “I’m not drunk.” But then I undermine my point by wobbling and plopping back down in the water with an ungraceful splash. “It’s just slippery.”
“Trust me, she was very enthusiastically consenting,” Scott says in a smug voice.
Andrew looks like he’s about to lose his shit, but instead he grabs a towel and says, “It’s my job to make sure nothing goes too far, particularly when there’s alcohol involved. You can pick up where you left off tomorrow, when you’re sober. Grace, get out of the hot tub.”
I look at Andrew and then back at Scott. They’re staring at each other in some sort of alpha male standoff. I grab the railing and climb out of the hot tub with Scott trailing behind me. Andrew angrily wraps a towel around me but ignores Scott.
“Why are you mad at me?” I ask him.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to get into a hot tub with him after what I told you?” Andrew asks.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott says, getting in Andrew’s face.
But I’m already there, mad enough for the both of us, and I yank on Andrew’s arm to get him to look at me. “I didn’t break any rules. I didn’t do anything wrong,” I spit out.
Andrew’s eyes travel over my soaking body, now covered partially by a towel. Scott snorts, and then Andrew shakes his head. “No, you’re right. It’s not your fault. It’s his.” And then he turns around and punches Scott in the face.