Pucked Up Page 70

“I’mma pretend I’mma bear and scare the piss out of him,” Randy whispers.

“They’re probably his distant relatives.”

He grabs the door handle, but I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Later. I wanna find Sunny first.”

Randy shrugs and follows me down the driveway to the deck. From where I’m standing I can see all the way to the lake. Patch McBushman is sitting on the edge of the dock with his feet in the water. I hope one of those fishing spiders climbs into his shorts and bites him on his tiny dick.

I find Sunny around the other side of the deck, lying in a hammock. She’s in the bikini I love. The top is untied, the straps tucked into the cups so she doesn’t get unnecessary tan lines. She’s fast asleep, her soft lips parted. The bridge of her nose is pink from too much sun. She has scratches on her arms, scabs on her knees, and a load of bug bites, along with a number of purple spots on her shins. I don’t like all the bumps and bruises. She looks innocent, vulnerable. But right now I’m not so sure that’s the truth. My frustration over the past week merges with an unsettling need to touch her.

Randy elbows me. “I’m gonna go inside and find a bathroom.”

I nod and crouch beside Sunny. I’m still upset, but seeing her does something to me. Especially after spending a week with a kid who’s life is up in the air. I run the tip of my finger across her blond lashes. She shakes her head and bats at her face.

“Sunny Sunshine, wake up.”

She hums, but doesn’t move otherwise.

I trace the contour of her jaw with my fingertip, moving down the side of her neck to her throat and over her collarbone. The sound that comes out of her is more moan than a hum. Her eyes flutter, and she blinks against the sun. Surprise crosses her delicate features. It’s followed by recognition, relief, and then wariness.

Despite the final emotion, Sunny reaches up and strokes my beard. I haven’t shaved since I left for the camp, so it’s grown in over the week. “You’re here.”

“I am.”

She licks her lips, eyes roaming over my face. “I’m glad.”

“Me, too.”

“I was upset with you last night,” she says sleepily.

I nod. “I could tell. But I didn’t have anything to do with the pictures that went viral.”

“Always with the explanations.” She’s still stroking my beard. Her fingers drift over my lips.

“I thought you’d want to know what happened. Maybe hear my side of things.”

“I did. I do.”

I take her hand in mine and play with her fingers, just so I can touch her. Her nails, usually filed into curves, are ragged and chipped. “I didn’t like seeing you cry and not being able to do anything about it.”

“I was really drunk.”

“I didn’t like that either. I also didn’t like that you were stuck in a men’s bathroom, hiding from Bushm—Kale. Or all the pictures of you he posted this week. When did you get here?”

She stares at my chin when she answers. “Around eight this morning. Apparently I insisted we drive here, and Lily is fed up with Benji, so here we are. I think she drove the whole way. I don’t know where she is.”

“Probably inside, I’m guessing.” Or it’s a full moon and she’s changed into a werebear.

“Probably.” Sunny cups the back of my neck and tries to pull me down.

When I’m an inch from her lips, I resist. “We should talk.”

“We should.” Her voice is soft, almost breathless.

I don’t want to say what I’m about to, but I liked what we had before sex and orgasms became part of the equation. It felt like a real relationship. “Before we start making out.”

“I disagree. We should kiss first, then talk.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I missed you this week, and you promised you’d make me feel better when I saw you.”

She clearly remembers our conversation from last night, which is a surprise. “And you think a kiss is going to make you feel better?”

She searches my face. “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

When her tongue peeks out to wet her bottom lip I give in. I brush my lips over hers. Her grip tightens on the back of my neck. Sunny sucks on my bottom lip, then slips her tongue inside my mouth. There’s aggression and something hot and needy simmering below the surface. My rational side takes a back seat to the horny side.

I’d like to get her naked right now, but Bushman’s within earshot. Randy and Lily aren’t all that far away, inside the cottage. And talking still takes precedence over taking our clothes off. I settle for deepening the kiss.

A shriek comes from somewhere in the cottage. Sunny sits up with a start, ending what we just got started. Her bikini top falls, her boobs popping out as the sliding door opens and Randy comes tripping out onto the deck. His hands are over his head likes he’s protecting himself.

Lily skids to a halt behind him. She’s wielding one of those toilet paper holder stands. Three rolls flutter in the breeze, the paper unraveling behind her. She’s wearing a towel with shoulder straps. Her legs are covered in shaving lotion.

“Someone just tried to—”

She stops when she sees me. I’m cupping Sunny’s bare boobs so Randy doesn’t get a look at them.

“This pervert must be one of your friends!” She jabs the toilet paper holder in my direction and then swings it toward Randy.

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