Page 69 of The Right Move

“Same thing.”

Turning around in his lap, I swing both of my legs to one side of his, offering him some of my s’more. His lips wrap around it, taking a generous bite, all the while keeping his ocean eyes penetrating mine.

Wow. It feels claustrophobic in this open air.

A bit of marshmallow falls onto his chin, and without thinking, I wipe it off with my thumb. But before I can clean off the mess, he grabs my hand and takes my finger in his mouth to suck off the remnants.

I’m entirely out of breath when the warmth of his tongue swirls and flicks my thumb, very similarly to how I’d imagine he’d swirl and flick something else.

Acting. Fake. Pretend.

He’s getting good at this fake boyfriend thing, and if I don’t keep reminding my romantic heart of exactly what this is, I’m going to be in trouble.

15

RYAN

While Indy is showering inside, I make sure all the canvases are down to cover the glass walls for the night. Needing, at least, to sleep in privacy. The walls are built into an A-frame, the highest point of the ceiling aiming straight to the sky. A separate drawstring is attached to the canvases on the roof, so I test one, tugging to see what happens. The fabric covering one half of the ceiling opens, giving the cabin an open skylight to watch the stars from bed. I do the same to the other half before heading inside and locking the door behind me.

Before I can look up to see the view, I find a much more spectacular one standing naked in the center of the room wearing only a towel and looking up towards the sky.

“Wow,” Indy exhales, her head thrown back. “That’s beautiful.”

I honestly couldn’t care less what’s up north. If she saw how stunning she looked with a light layer of moisture coating her body or the slight flush to her cheeks from her warm shower, she would understand my disinterest in looking away.

“The stars are so bright out here,” she continues. “I never see them in the city.” Brown eyes track me. “Ryan?”

I nod. “Stunning.”

Every fiber in my body wants to close the gap between us and kiss her right now. And if she asked for more than that, I don’t think I’d be able to hold back. It’s a terrifying revelation to have, especially when we’re minutes away from crawling into bed together.

She’s your sister’s best friend. She’s going through a nasty breakup. She’s your roommate, for fuck’s sake.

This room is too fucking small to share with her when she’s naked and smelling clean and tropical from her soap.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

Head down, I take two quick steps in that direction, needing to get behind a closed door, only to run into a soaking wet blonde. Our bodies collide, the impact dropping her towel to the floor. I know this because my hands are around her bare back to steady her, and two hard peaks are pressed into my upper stomach.

“Oh my God.” She freezes. “Oh. My. God.”

My eyes are locked on that scenery I refused to look at before, even though the temptation could not be greater to see what’s in my hands. “Indy, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m sorry! I was going to get my things out of the shower for you.”

Calloused fingers curl into the soft, warm flesh on her back, and my teeth clench together. “I need you to very carefully pick your towel up off the ground. Right now.”

If I thought I had strong self-control before, nothing compares to the restraint I’m experiencing at this moment because as she slowly bends to the ground, she brushes against my cock. I hiss an inhale, as if all my blood wasn’t already headed in that direction before she grazed it.

Her laugh holds an awkward edge. “Oops. Sorry.”

As soon as I sense her body is covered once again, I take the final step into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

What the fuck sort of evil thing did I manage to do in order to earn this kind of temptation? I’ve gone years, years without giving a woman as much as a second glance, and now the one I can’t stop thinking about is living in my house.

Fuck. The bathroom smells like her. I smell like her from holding her in my lap all night. Part of me doesn’t want to wash her off my skin, but most of me knows I need to take care of the painful erection I’ve tried to hide all night before I crawl into bed next to her.

I let the water pound against my back as I brace my palms on the wall. I shouldn’t do this, but the need is too strong. I won’t picture her, though. I won’t picture anyone.

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