Page 61 of Rebel Bride
As the haze of the orgasms wore off, I shot up to a sitting position. “What about you?”
He was lying back, his arm behind his head. “Don’t worry about me.”
I moved to touch him where all the action was. He grasped my wrist.
“I said don’t worry.”
I blinked, as a chilling realization dawned. “Is this your way of staying loyal to a teammate? If you don’t get off, then you can say nothing happened?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m fairly certain something happened.”
“Too right it did! But apparently if I don’t touch your dick, you’re absolved of all blame here. Only Summer gets an orgasm?—”
“Multiple orgasms,” he interjected.
“Multiple orgasms! So she’s the big old cheater.”
I slid off the hood in a move that would have made one of those no-good Duke boys proud. Then I was forced to hunker down to search for my underwear, in a move that wasn’t quite as cool. The bikini top had landed a ways away, while the shorts were at the back tire. No sign of the panties, which I didn’t care about because they were tainted by the seller.
“What are you talking about?” Hatch slid to a stand and faced me, bare-chested. The top button of his shorts was open in a very fetching manner, revealing a V-cut and a hint of pubic hair that should not have been attractive, but of course was.
“Maybe you get to hold this over me, huh? Punish me for being so weak?”
I made do with the shirt, which was thankfully long enough to cover my assets.
“You seem to think that me giving you an orgasm?—”
“Multiple!”
“Multiple orgasms, is punishing you for being … what are we arguing about here?”
I stabbed one leg into the shorts, realized it was the wrong leg, and tried again.
“You won’t let me give you a hand job. And maybe it’s because you feel bad about Dash, so this is your way of dealing with that. If you don’t take any pleasure out of it, you don’t have to feel you’ve betrayed him.”
He grasped my arms before I had a chance to poke a second leg into his great-grandmother’s shorts. Like I said: complicated.
“You think I didn’t take any pleasure in what we just did?”
“I think I got off and you get to be St. Hatch of the Blue Balls!”
He pulled me close and kissed my forehead. Such a sweet gesture that I almost lost my fury. Almost. I obviously felt guilty at what we’d done, and I was resolved to take it out on him under the guise of any excuse imaginable.
If only I’d enjoyed this level of self-awareness while I was engaged to another man.
“Summer, I would happily let you give me a hand job but there’s not much point.”
I peered up at him. Oh! “Because you … can’t perform?”
He had said if I touched him, he would explode, but that could have been standard sex rhetoric.
“I can perform just fine. In fact, I already did—without your hands-on assistance.”
“No!” I clamped a hand to my mouth.
His grin was rueful and this side of cheeky. “Congrats, Sunshine. The taste of you was enough to make this grown man come in his pants.”
Chapter Twenty
