Page 75 of The Bro Pact
“What are we making?” he asks, his steely eyes scanning the selection of strawberries, tomatoes, cucumbers, and bell peppers, landing on the watermelon longingly.
“Eggplant lasagna and strawberry shortcakes, but we don’t have to start yet. We can relax and chill.”
“Oh, thank God. I wasn’t trying to bitch, but I really don’t feel like doing shit right now. That was a lot of walking,” Ren admitswith a relieved grin. “Can we slice up that watermelon and hit the roof for some sunbathing?”
“Sounds good to me.”
We change into our swim trunks and spray sunscreen on, washing our hands thoroughly before Ren helps me cut the watermelon into quarters.
I put most of it away in a giant Tupperware my mom packed, but I also make a plate full of triangle wedges to take to the roof.
Ren’s already up there with our favorite blanket laid out. He’s lying on his back with dark shades on and the music low.
My eyes zero in on the small beads of sweat gathering between his pecs. I get the strangest urge to lick the droplets away before they drip down his torso, teasing me further as they caress each ridge on their way south.
I shake my head, glancing away before he catches me.
“Watermelon is served,” I announce, setting it on the roof between us as I take a seat.
“Fuck yes,” Ren says, grabbing a slice, uncaring if it drips everywhere.
And it does.
The watermelon juice joins the sweat beading on his chest, making a sticky mess that perks my cock right up.
Fuck.
I will the chub away, biting into my own messy treat and humming at the sweet flavor.
We continue to eat slice after slice in silence, spitting any black seeds over the edge of the RV.
Ren takes a particularly big bite, sucking on the slice before he pulls it out of his mouth. “Mmm,” he moans as the pink juice dribbles down his chin. “I fucking love watermelon.”
“I see,” I tease.
“Especially when your mom uses the world’s smallest ice cream scoop and makes those tiny little balls. Fuck, I love Mama Carol’s watermelon balls.”
“Ren!Shut up!” I yell with a laugh. “Please don’t use my mom’s name and the wordballsin the same sentence ever again.”
Ren snickers, clearly pleased with himself.
Watermelon juice drips from his chin, plopping onto his chest and trailing down his abs.
“You want a taste?” he suddenly asks.
“Hmm?” My brows crease.
“You keep staring at me. So, I was just sayin’, if you want a taste . . .” He sweeps his hand down his body. “Go for it.”
Even though I have dark Ray-Bans on, and he can’t see where I’m looking, he somehow recognizes the lust stirring deep within my eyes and low in my belly.
I set the rind on the plate and crawl over, licking my lips as I stare at him for a moment.
God, he’s hot.
Starting at his waistband, I place the flat of my tongue against his abdomen, causing it to hollow out as he sucks in a sharp breath of air.
“Fuuuck.” He draws the word out as I trail my tongue up each groove on his toned stomach, between his pecs, and up to his mouth, savoring his salty-sweet taste.
