Page 163 of The Vacation Mix-Up
“Riles.”
“Do it.”
“You seem to forget I’ve seen you in your underwear. Twice.”
Growling at him, I set down my glass and remove my top, tossing it at his face before unbuttoning my denim shorts, wiggling them down my legs, and then kicking them aside.
He sits up straighter.
I smirk.
“Come here,” he says, voice low.
“No.”
“Riles.”
Shaking my head, I reach behind my back to unlatch the clasp of my bra, repeating, “Turn around.”
chapter twenty-four
RILEY
Aferal growl rumbles in my throat as I stare at Riles’s delicious body, my hands itching to reach out and take her in my arms. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”
She releases one hand from behind her back, brings it forward, and swirls her damn finger at me. “Turn. Around.”
“Okay,” I say, chuckling at her stubbornness.
“Thank you.”
I snatch up my towel and lie on my stomach, obediently turning my head in the opposite direction. “You’re not welcome.”
The leather of her bed squeaks as she shuffles behind me, which is when I catch her movement in the reflection of the window, her image distorted but clear enough for me to admire.
Waiting for her to remove her bra, my heartbeat thuds in my chest. I should look away. It’s the right thing to do. But there’s no way in hell I can, even if I tried, even if I wanted to, which I sure as shit don’t.
My cock hardens uncomfortably as she takes a step closer, tilts her head, and drags her eyes over my back, her arm reaching out, hand hovering. I anticipate her touch, my skin tingling, but she retracts her hand, presses her fingers to her lips, and then turns her back to me before sliding the straps from her shoulders.
Covering up, she practically barrel-rolls onto her bed, landing facedown. “Okay, you can look now.”
I stifle my amusement and turn my head, my breath instantly catching in my throat. “You’re so damn beautiful, Riles.”
Modesty blushes her cheeks, so I reach out and drag my knuckle along her arm, desperate to feel her soft skin, when a knock at the door halts my hand.
“Allo? May we enter?”
“Yes,” Riles calls out, voice strained.
Rearranging my position so I’m not spearing the bed with my hard-on, a cool breeze settles over my back as two women enter the room, each of them positioning themselves by our sides.
“Welcome,” one of them says. “Are you both comfortable?”
I squirm again. “Not particularly.”
The woman closest to me bends down, blocking my view of Riles, her stern but pleasant face mere inches from mine. “First time?”
“Yes.”
