Page 29 of Hale
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
His palm rubs rigorously all over my stomach until he’s smeared it in. Twice his hand sweeps across my lower stomach and I let out a small moan. Thank God he ignores the embarrassing sounds coming from me. He continues his task and squirts more sunscreen out, this time into his hand. My shoulders get attention next. Then my neck. My collarbone.
“Will you do my back too?” I ask, desperate to have him keep touching me.
“Roll over.”
I lie down face first and squeal again when he squirts it on my back. But then his warm, powerful hands are spreading it around my back. His fingers dip along my sides and I shiver.
“This is in the way,” he tells me, his voice low, a near whisper.
He plucks the strings tied at the middle of my back and pulls them away. Then, he rubs me lazily and slowly. I’m sure the sunscreen is more than smeared in, but he doesn’t stop rubbing my back.
“This feels good,” I murmur.
“I know.”
“Want me to put some on you?” I ask.
He runs his fingertips down my spine. “I do.”
“Do you want to fix my swimsuit?”
A pause.
“Yeah.”
He ties it back and when I sit up on my knees to look at him, he has his back to me. I pick up the bottle of sunscreen and pour some into my hands. Running my hands over his muscled shoulders, I take my time rubbing it in. At first, he’s tense, but then he relaxes. We’re silent as I move around to his front. His legs are stretched out in front of him. Boldly, I straddle his thighs, facing him. Neither of us speaks or looks at the other. It’s as if we’re collectively holding our breaths. I focus on getting the sunscreen on him. His breath hitches when my fingers brush low on his stomach. Between us, I can tell he’s getting hard. I don’t want him to freak out and kill the moment, so I try to distract him.
“What will we do later this week?” I ask, chancing a glance at his face.
His jaw is clenched as his intense green eyes bore into mine. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to see Mom and Dad’s gravesite.”
“Of course,” he rumbles. His eyes drop to my lips and then he looks away. “We should get going. I want to find a better place to camp.”
As if I weigh nothing, he grips my hips and moves me out of his lap. My heart sinks until I notice his erection tenting his trunks that he’s trying desperately to hide from me.
Maybe it’s true.
Maybe he’s sick too.
Hudson
I’m losing my mind.
Quickly.
I feel like somewhere since my parents’ deaths, we crossed a line. We crossed a line that normal brothers and sisters don’t cross. A line we somehow skated over without realizing it.
Fuck.
I don’t know what to do. My mind reels and yet I can’t keep my eyes off her. Each laugh has me held hostage. Each smile I’m caught staring.
“There?” she asks, pointing to where some people are camping.
