“Forget it.”
“Good idea. No more after that.”
“No more what?”
“Drinks.”
I snorted. “Hmph, okay.”
“Gabriella,” he said in a quiet yet stern tone. It was a warning and I knew it. Gah. Why couldn’t I just be fake like everyone else?
The night wasn’t so bad. Maybe because I didn’t stop with one. It wasn’t my fault, though. Lane kept pouring them for me. If Paxton really cared, he should have said something to him. He didn’t. Not my fault.
It wasn’t like I got drunk. I was far from drunk. Especially after we ate. I barely felt anything. If Paxton was mad, he didn’t show it. He talked in a circle with the guys like any other guy would do. I got a couple of looks, but nothing major. All and all, I thought the night was a nice change. Even Paxton seemed to enjoy himself. If anyone was a little intoxicated, it was him.
I liked Tricia, I liked Shayla, but I loved Candace. I don’t know why. I felt like she understood me more than the other two. I didn’t feel like a freak show with her. It was as if she understood me. She didn’t remind me of the things I didn’t like before the accident. If Shayla told me one more time how she’d never seen my boobs this much before, I might have punched her. It was a little cleavage. That’s it. She had more tits hanging out than anyone there. Including Ophelia who was running around without a top.
The four of us sat in a circle, drinking the second batch of rum-runners. I had to admit, mine were better than Candace’s. She admitted it, too. I tried to tell her frozen orange juice wouldn’t be the same. It was okay, though.
The guys were playing badminton with the kids. Two of them couldn’t take their eyes off me. One of which I didn’t understand why. I shifted my gaze away from Lane every time I saw him staring. Maybe I didn’t want to remember that one.
Shayla took Paxton’s place when he ran to the bathroom. She batted the birdie straight to the roof. During Paxton’s absence, I took the time to pour myself another drink. Only I didn’t pull any wool over his head.
Paxton moved behind me and kissed my neck. Geesh. He was a fast pisser.
“Need some help, Mrs. Pierce?” Paxton asked while his hand slithered around my waist.
My eyes shifted to him and then down his body, probably a more haughty expression than anything. “Sure, there’s a birdie on the roof.”
He glowered at me, but his single-word response held a tinge of bewilderment. “What?”
“You should go get it.”
Paxton’s gaze lifted to the plastic birdie Rowan had hit on the roof. He smirked. “That’s funny. Forgetting who you are has made you a comedian. Keep it up. I like it.”
“I’m scared.” I said with a sarcastic tone. My eyes darted to Rowan, who yelled for me to watch her do a cannonball like Collin. And then I caught Lane glaring at me. What the hell is this guy’s deal?
Paxton placed his phone in front of us, searching for an app. I sipped my drink and then panicked.
Smart panties!
“No, Paxton. Don’t you dare,” I warned. My hand covered his screen, but not fast enough. It felt like it went in a circle. All the way around my suddenly alive nub. The vibration was powerful. Extremely powerful. I stiffened like a board, using the outside bar as support.
“You doing okay?” Paxton whispered in my ear. I could feel the sneer on his lips.
“Turn it off, Paxton,” I ordered through gritted teeth.
“No way. This is too much fun.”
“Ahh,” I yelled when he upped the power. And yes. All eyes were on me.
“I hate being tickled,” I said like an idiot. They laughed and turned back to the game. Except Lane. He still stared at me. Why? Why did this guy keep looking at me?
“Go to the bathroom.”
I scurried away with one thing in mind. The distance. If it was like my Bluetooth, I only had to get six feet away from it. I have a Bluetooth? Hmm. Sure enough, I was right. The app broke contact as soon as I rounded the corner.
Within the minute, Paxton closed the bathroom door behind me. He slung me backward, crashing me against the wall. That same thing happened—this wasn’t Paxton being a douche. This was something else. Something heated, laced with passion. Our lips met and our bodies molded into one. My fingers combed through the hair on the back of his neck and I lifted my good leg and wrapped it around his waist.
He backed off for a split second, obviously taken off guard, but the lust overruled his ego and we kissed again, passionately. His fingers trailed up my leg, pushing my dress higher. I wedged my hand between us and went straight for the tie on his swimming trunks.
“Gabriella, stop,” he ordered, but his voice sounded weak, conquered. Paxton had screwed up. He’d revealed his weakness. And just like an animal, I sensed it.
My tongue danced with his while my hand shoved his away. I tilted my head, offering my neck when I couldn’t get the stupid string untied.
“We’re not doing this here,” he assured me with hot words fanning my shoulder.