Page 130 of Bridesmaid for Hire
“Uh, yeah.”
He helps me into the golf cart, and his fingers trail down my armbefore he moves to his side of the cart, leaving a trail of goose bumps along my skin.
When he takes his seat, he turns the key, takes the wheel with one hand and he rests his other hand on my upper thigh. Then we’re off, down the barely lit path.
“Did you have fun today?” he asks as his thumb rubs over my exposed skin. His hand has slipped right where my sarong parts open, giving him access to my entire leg, and he uses it. His fingers curl inward around my upper thigh and his thumb strokes in just the right spot that with every pass, sparks arousal through me.
“I did,” I say, trying to steady myself.
What is happening?
Is he trying to turn me on?
Because he’s doing a good job.
And how pathetic am I? He’s doing a good job with his freaking thumb. Has it really been that long for me?
“I’m glad. They really like you, Maggie. Hard not to, though.”
His fingers curl in even more and I have this distinct desire to spread my legs, but I don’t. I keep myself in place.
“They seem to like you as well,” I say, trying to keep my mind on the conversation.
“Oh yeah?” he asks. “Who, exactly?” His pinky finger slowly moves farther between my legs and barely grazes my pussy, but it’s all I need for my eyes to nearly roll to the back of my head.
“Uh…well, Haisley likes you,” I say as I swallow hard the moment his pinky grazes me again, right along my slit. I’m wearing a bathing suit, so I can feel every touch, every millimeter of skin. “Hudson and Hardy,” I say as I grip the seat beneath me.
“And what about you?” he asks as he makes it to the bridge that leads to our bungalow. “Do you like me?” His finger slides again, this time applying more pressure.
“Yess,” I nearly hiss.
“How do you like me?” he asks as we draw closer and closer to our bungalow.
“I…uh…I don’t know.” My mind can’t focus on the questions anymore as it’s rather focused on the way he’s made me wet from just his pinky finger and thumb.
He stops in front of our bungalow and releases me, sending me into a tailspin of need.
God, I hope he continues whatever that was because I don’t think I can take being turned on like that with no end.
He grabs his backpack and then moves to my side, taking my hand in his and bringing us to the front door. He opens it up, and we step inside. In one swift movement, he drops his backpack to the ground, turns toward me, and kicks the door shut. He then picks me up, spins me around to the wall, and plasters me there as he pins my hands above my head and brings his mouth to my neck.
Oh my God…
“How do you like me?” he asks again as his fingers trail down my body, over the side of my breast and to my sarong, which he takes off and tosses to the side.
“I don’t…I don’t know,” I answer when his mouth moves down my neck, lightly licking and sucking.
He pauses and looks me in the eyes. “Do you want me…like this…or do you me as just a friend, Maggie? It’s a simple question.”
I wet my lips. “With a complicated answer.”
“How is it complicated? You either want me or you don’t. Which is it?”
I study those hungry eyes, ready to eat me up with the desire thrumming through him. “I don’t want you to hurt me,” I answer.
“Never,” he says. “I can’t and won’t do that again. I want this. You. I won’t hurt you, Maggie. I promise.”
I feel my heart hammer in my chest. “What about…Gary?”
