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I touch my foot to the ground again and tilt my head. “I am feeling no pain, my man. Lead the way.”
This isn’t his first rodeo with a drunk Kiersten. Many years of happy hours and New Year’s parties have prepared him for just this scenario. Like a true gentleman, he offers his elbow and steers us back to the bathrooms I just left.
I crinkle my nose and stop us short. “If you think I’m going into the place where men poo, you’re out of your mind.”
“Did you just say poo?”
Ignoring his question, I flip my hand at a nearby stone bench. “I’ll just wait here.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be right back.”
The direct sun beats harder on this bench than it did while I was basking on a lounger. Nathan’s been gone for eternity. Sweltering, flushed, and intoxicated, I need a reprieve before I pass out. A shady corner just to the left of the brown brick building that houses the restrooms beckons me. Nathan can find me over there if he ever decides to come out.
The moment I duck beneath the canopy of plants, I feel an instant respite from the sun. My head gently kisses the brick, and my eyelids flutter until I hear my name spoken from around the corner. My belly flips and my nipples tingle at the rasp of my name coming from his mouth.
“I’m here!”
While I smile goofily, Nathan rounds the corner with concern marring his brow and armed with a handful of damp paper towels.
“Are you okay? You were supposed to wait on the bench.” His approach is swift.
“The sun got really hot.”
“It does that,” he deadpans.
His broad chest blocks everything from my view, forcing my gaze to his wide shoulders and the white tee stretched tight across his pecs. Palming me around the back of the neck, he yanks me into his chest and touches his cheek to my forehead.
“You are seriously warm. Day drinking at a waterpark is a stupid idea.”
“It was brilliant,” I snap back defensively. One of the wet towels lands on my forehead, making me mewl.
His sighs caress my skin much like the finger trailing down my flushed cheek. “I’m glad you’re having fun, but you just have to be careful. Lean against the wall so I can clean up your leg.”
I do as instructed. Not because he told me so, but because the brick here is a blessed respite from the heat. In all honesty, his bossiness is like a trigger. I’m sure feminists around the world would shame me, but it revs me up when a man says “come for me” or “suck me harder” or “say please” and … now I’m getting turned on.
My teeth sink into my swollen lower lip. I glance down to see the top of Nathan’s dark head where he’s bent over swiping blood from my scraped calf. The sight ignites the memories of a week ago. His head in a similar position, strands of that hair sifting between my fingers as he brought me to a blinding orgasm. Before I can stop myself, my hips thrust forward from the wall and dangerously close to his face.
He stiffens, revealing he caught the blatant motion. It’s hard to miss a person dry humping the air mere inches away. The gentle dabbing at my leg continues without a word.
Alcohol makes me a scrapper, and it also emboldens me, exactly as it’s doing right now. I spare a glance out to the path and confirm we’re alone in this hidden alcove.
My demanding hips inch forward. I stroke the back of his head with my left hand and expel a breathy sigh.
Nathan completely freezes this time.
“Kiersten.” His voice is rough like the grit of coarse sand.
“Hmm?” I tug his head closer until his forehead brushes my thighs. Shock circuits through me when he doesn’t move it away. Each of his palms take hold of my thighs, fingers denting my skin.
“What are you doing?” His grip increases fractionally.
“It’s okay. Nobody can see.”
“You’re drunk.” He nuzzles closer. His words belie his actions. The slight scruff on his chin is a welcome chafe to my sensitive skin.
My breath hitches as his nose directs pressure on my clit. “I was drunk last weekend too.”
“Fuck.”
