Page 26 of Contingently Yours
“What? No kiss goodnight?” he asks softly, teasing.
I blow my cover and tense, letting out the breath I was holding. Soft laughter floods the room as he flops onto his back and yanks the covers tighter against him.
“Goodnight, Lucas,” he purrs.
I hate him. Truly, I do. I don’t know what’s going on with me, but my mind and body are clearly not on the same page. If they were, I wouldn’t feel so disappointed as I whisper back, “Asshole.”
CHAPTER 9
Andrew
“Ugh, I hate you,” Terry lets out wistfully as I turn my phone’s camera to show him the view of the resort’s beach.
“Why? You and Shaw do all right. You can go anywhere you want.”
“We do all right because we both work all the time. It’s not that simple,” my cousin-in-law huffs. “Oh, my God! IsthatDario?” he whispers.
I spot said-Hepperly with Lucas down on the dock, fishing.
Why are they fishing? They already agreed to buy the place. Lucas doesn’t need to hype up any more selling points. We’ve been here two extra days so they could decompress, part of the honeymoon aspect of it, I guess. Lucas must have missed the memo that we don’t need to be involved in their alone time. The idiot.
“Yeah. The one and only,” I concur, frowning at Lucas’ bronzed bare back and the way his muscles glisten when he casts his line.
“And is that yourboyfriend?” This amused query comes from Shaw.
They’ve seen enough, so I switch the camera back to face me. “Yup. Tell me what a lucky man I am.”
My cousin snorts at my unenthused delivery. “Still sticking to your stupid plan, huh? How’s that going?”
“I just sold an island. How do you think it’s going?” I ask, taking a sip of my beer under the shade of one of the covered patios at the resort. “Why? Did you doubt me?”
“Ididn’t!” Terry pipes in. “Even though you’re a terrible kisser.”
I wondered when he’d bring that up. I’m sure it won’t be the last I hear of it over the next thirty years or so. Glancing down the hill at the dock, I can see Lucas’ plump lips from here. I used to think he was just bitter about his lot in life all the time, and his mouth was in a perpetual pout, but the man has some thick lips. Thick and…pliable. They’re surprisingly soft. I’m not going to dwell much on how I know that. I mean, I’ve kissed two men in the past week, so what’s the big deal? One to prove a point, the other to sell a lie.
I should be happy that he took the initiative the other night by the fire pit, but he had to make it all weird, like a real kiss. For a second, I forgot to half ass it. There shouldn’t be anything thrilling about the way his eyes were drooped when he pulled away. I mean, I know I’m a good kisser, despite what Terry thinks, but I should have zero excitement over the thought of having an effect on the mouth-breather. He was panting like he’d just run a marathon.
So…I did what any curious, competitive man of the world would do. I’ve kissed him each day since then.
Yesterday, after breakfast with the Hepperlys, he came up with some bullshit excuse about calling his sisters and looking up a few more properties for when we head to Massachusetts. We’ve already got enough planned that I’m sure the newlyweds will bite on one of them, and I doubt the babies really need big brother’s help if they want a wedding that won’t embarrass them. It was just an excuse to get away from me. I was sure of it, so I latched onto his neck and planted one on him for our clients.
I can still feel his little grunt against my lips. How I’m starting to get used to the feel of stubble against my face when I kiss someone, I don’t know, but…it was weird. Lucas’s lips shouldn’t feel that good. I think I’m just fascinated by the way I can feel his body change under my touch. It’s like his muscle tension melts the second my lips are on his. Maybe he has an oral fixation.
Last night, when we met up with the Hepperlys for dinner, he barely looked at me. Mason kept him busy talking about his army days, so at least the conversation flowed plausibly and didn’t look like we were at odds. I had to stop myself from stroking the side of his neck with my thumb where I had my arm draped across the back of his shoulders because the dumbass got flustered a few times.
I really hate what this feud is doing to me. The more he does that heavy mouth-breathing when I touch him, the more I find myself wanting to touch him just to prove…to prove… I don’t know. That I’m winning?
I sure as shit won last night when he was the first to excuse himself to go to bed again. He leaned in like he was about to steal a quick kiss, so I one-upped him. Latching my hand around the back of his neck, I put all my skills to good use, sucking on his lower lip and giving it a little lick with the tip of my tongue.
He…whimpered. I swear to God, he whimpered approximately ten seconds before he turned and bolted upstairs to our room. Terrible kisser, my ass. If I can make my enemy whimper, Terry can suck it.
“That’s not what Lucas says,” I mumble idly, watching Dario reach out and direct Lucas’ wrist like he’s showing him a casting tip.
“Wait…you actually kissed him?” Shaw squawks.
Shit. I said that out loud. Flipping the camera view back around, I sigh, like the topic is boring me, because it is. I don’t want or need them thinking they’re reading something on myface that isn’t there. They watch way too much reality TV when they’re not fucking in their living room. I blame Terry. His taste in the arts is shit.
“I told you. I’m going to make these sales happen. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Not my fault you doubted my commitmentormy abilities. But on that note, why don’t you put a good word in with your dad for me the next time you see him?”
