Hook Up (Taking Chances Book 2) Page 3

  “That sounds fantastic.” I would love nothing more than to dance my worries away while chasing them with alcohol.

  Upstairs, Cody’s room is the first on the left and across the hall is Shyla and Brady’s. There’s a bathroom just past it and then it opens up into a second living room that’s smaller than the one downstairs with just as beautiful of a view to the ocean. My bedroom is at the end of the hall. It’s simple—a bed with white and blue bed linens and a small TV above a tan dresser.

  I push open the door leading to my balcony. The ocean breeze instantly hits me, even though this view is absent of the beach. Instead, I’m greeted by the different colors of houses and palm trees. It may not be the beach, but it’s beautiful nonetheless.

  After putting my clothes away, I’m hanging up some of my things when Shyla and Brooklyn come springing into my room and flop on the bed.

  “I love this place,” Brooklyn squeals, spreading out her arms. “I need to talk to Nathan about a monthly beach vacation.”

  I giggle under my breath. “You bring it up and he’ll build you a house here and move you away from us.”

  A hard line forms between her brows. “You’re right. A yearly vacation then.”

  “The guys are playing pool and doing guy things. What do you say we hit the beach, soak up the sun, and guy watch? I’ve never been worth a shit after a plane ride,” Shyla says.

  “I second this. All of it,” I agree.

  Brooklyn leaps up. “Change and meet downstairs.”

  She rushes out of the room and Shyla laughs. “I do believe she’s excited.”

  Understatement.

  After I change into my bikini, grab a beach towel from the hall closet, and throw on my aqua blue coverup, I head downstairs. Shyla and Brooklyn finish putting a few drinks in a small cooler before we head out, but not before the lovebirds stop to tell their other halves what we’re doing.

  Brady is bent over, lining up his next shot while Cody sits on a stool by the mini bar with Nathan beside him holding the cue stick. The moment we enter, all eyes flick to us. Cody’s gaze brazenly cruises over my body, something I’ve witnessed him do a million times, and he licks his lips as an appreciative smile forms. I arch a brow at him, and he lifts his shoulder with a chuckle before looking back to the pool table over his beer.

  It’s one thing dealing with his shameless ogling a few hours here and there, but it’s another to have to deal with it for four straight days while trying to keep myself in check too.

  “This is exactly what I needed,” Brooklyn says, pulling me out of a catnap.

  We’ve been on the beach for an hour, soaking up the sun and relaxing.

  Shyla hums her agreement. “Are you nervous about the wedding?”

  “Yes and no. You know I dread being the center of attention, but I’m so ready to make Nathan my husband,” she replies.

  “You realize you’re a lucky bitch, right?” I pipe up light-heartedly, scooting up in the lounger.

  “Very,” she sighs.

  “What are our plans for the day?” Shyla flips over to her stomach, looking to B as she rests on her elbows.

  “I thought about staying in and having a good dinner, but the more I think about it, I want to go to the club. Shake our asses and just let loose. Unless you two don’t want to,” Brooklyn replies.

  “Without the guys?” I ask, needing time away from the hot flirt that occupies the same floor as me.

  “Yep.”

  I smile. “I took a catnap. I’m all rested up.”

  “No sex with strangers.” Shyla gives me the stink eye. “I don’t want you to get knocked up by a stranger who lives hundreds of miles away.”

  “Or have to put an APB on you if you go missing,” B adds.

  I hold up a finger. “One. I passed sex ed in high school. Two. I won’t go missing.”

  We all chuckle.

  “As I recall, you slept during sex ed,” Shyla throws her damn two cents in.

  I arch a daring brow, lifting my sunglasses so she can get a good look at my face. “Michael Poston.”

  One name has B and me cracking up and Shyla’s smiling mouth falling open.

  “He was hot,” she defends.

  “And you decided sex ed class was where you should talk him up for a good time? While Mrs. Stevens was talking about how to put on a condom, you could’ve showed her how to do it with your mouth on Michael.”

  She sighs, grinning. “He rocked my damn world that night. And it’s not like you have any room to talk. You were screwing Eric Young.”

  I bounce a finger at her. “Shame on you trying to deflect. But for your information, that guy knew exactly what he was doing.”

  “Because he practiced on the entire cheerleading squad,” Brooklyn adds.

  I laugh as I stand up. “I showed him a thing or two he could try in the future.” I purse my lips. “Now with all this sex talk, I need to hit the water.”

  The waves beat against my skin as they break and roll past me. The cool water feels good on my hot body. Dipping, I lower myself to get my hair wet. I rock with the waves, allowing nature to keep me relaxed. No worries about my schedule, my clients, my appointments. No responsibilities. I can’t remember the last time I truly felt like this. Even when we took a vacation to help Nathan win back his girl, I wasn’t this relaxed. I was worried if Brooklyn would even take him back after he lost his damn mind over his worthless stepbrother. Don’t worry. As you can tell, all things ended beautifully.

  After a few more minutes, I head back to the loungers with our rental house in the background. Cody’s leaning over the railing with a beer in his hand, his eyes trained on me. My heart stumbles as heat warms my body from the inside out.

  I don’t acknowledge him as I sit back into the chair.

  It’s one thing to admire Cody from a distance. I enjoy the part-time fun and flirty banter that gives me a fleeting swoon and leaves me with mind-bending fantasies. But I’ve got to find a way to be in close proximity with the sexy and tempting man I’ve dreamed about. Nothing can happen. First, it would make our little circle awkward as hell, and awkward makes me itchy. Secondly, he’s a dead end. He’s someone I’d fall in love with only to realize he was never there to begin with.

  He’s off-limits.

  No matter what.

  FIVE

  I must be a damn masochist for agreeing with Nathan to combine the girl’s weekend with ours. Why would I ever think that was a good idea? At the time, all I could think about was having Aimee’s flirty banter at my disposal. What I didn’t think about, what I put zero fucking thought into, was seeing Aimee half-naked the majority of the time. Strange coming from my calculated ways of thinking. Seems my brain hid that little jewel of information from me instead of sending up red flags like it should have.

  Normally my brain and dick are a fairly united front. While they do sometimes war with one another—my brain talking me out of the things my dick is trying to persuade me into—they usually end up steering me right. But not this damn time.

  I’m forced into the same vicinity with the one woman who scrambles my entire system while she prances around in a bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination before covering it up with something that resembles lingerie. At least if we’re home, I’m missing these parts and filling them in with my own fantasies.

  Fan-fucking-tasic.

  Not long after I watched Aimee in the waves, the women came back and hit the pool. Of course, the guys followed.

  Brooklyn is curled into Nathan’s side, I’m assuming taking a nap.

  Brady and Shyla are at the table chatting amongst themselves as they look out at the ocean.

  And I’m watching Aimee float.

  I swim over to her and sling water across her stomach as I rest my arms on her hot pink float. Startled, she jumps and gasps. “Dammit, Cody.”

  “Better than shoving you off,” I grin.

  “You could’ve just let me keep sleeping.”

  “What’s
the fun in that?” I rest my chin on my hands, inconspicuously moving us farther away from the other couples. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you in your bathing suit and it’s only proved that what I’ve fantasized about is on point.”

  I catch the twitch in her lips before she curls the top one in fake disgust. “Quit fantasizing about me, Cody.”

  “I could tell you to do the same about me, but I like knowing just thinking of me can bring you orgasms.” Her breath hitches just slightly, but enough for me to hear it. I grin. “One night, Aimee. That’s all I need with you,” I whisper.

  Her right brow hikes high. “You’d fall in love. Then I’d have to fight you off. No thanks.”

  “I think you’re scared you’d fall in love.”

  She rolls her eyes with a scoff.

  “One night and I’d own your heart and pussy. They’d be mine.”

  Suddenly, she rolls off the opposite side of the float. Water splashes as the float tips up, blocking my view of her. Shoving it out of the way, I reach out and grab her wrist under the water and tug, spinning her around to me. “You run when things get too deep. Did you hear a possibility of truth that scared you?”

  “I would never give you my heart to break,” she hisses under her breath, narrowing her eyes to a murderous low. “Nor my pussy to fuck. Now. Quit. Trying.” She grits and then jerks her slippery hand from mine.

  “You’re fooling yourself,” I call out laughing, catching everyone’s attention as Aimee climbs out of the pool. She spins, throwing a glare at me from over her shoulder. I wink, stretching my arms over the edge of the pool.

  I’m making progress. It’s small, almost undetectable, but the little twitch in her lips and heat in her gaze…Progress.

  * * *

  The women left a few hours ago to head to the club and we decided to hit the streets to see what the beach city offered us. Bars and pubs line the edges of the sidewalk with people from all walks of life huddled together as they drink, smoke, and laugh, having a good time. We stop into a few bars, trying their house tap before hitting up the next one. But this isn’t really our scene. I speak from experience that Nathan prefers to work rather than party. And I might not have done the bar scene in college, but I loved a good house party.

  It’s not long before our little bar crawl leads us to the front of the club and an idea strikes me.

  “Let’s crash the girls’ party. You two can do whatever you two do with your women while I’m in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by hot tits and ass,” I say, cataloguing my true intents. I slap Nathan’s shoulder, tipping my chin toward the entrance. “What do you say, soon-to-be?”

  Brady’s lips twist into mischief. “Did you see what my wife had on when she left? I’m down with a little public grinding.”

  Yeah, Brady’s become my new best friend. All three women looked fantastic, but Aimee, being the single one, had less ambitions to keep covered up and I liked what I saw. Instant hard-on.

  The place is roaring. Blue, red, pink, and white strobe lights dance across the walls, bouncing off the floor to the ceiling as the bass pulsates and vibrates the air around us. The crowd is plenty, the energy buzzing like an electrical wire. There’s no shortage of half-dressed women vying for a night of fun and men promising to give it to them.

  We make our way to the crowded bar and order our beers from the bartender who looks relaxed in the mass of shouting patrons. I work well under pressure, strive for it, but I’m positive if it were me, I’d be in the fetal position under the bar.

  Brady stretches, looking over heads to check out the tables and booths along the wall while Nathan and I just cruise through the bodies.

  A flash of blonde dancing on the edge of the dance floor catches my attention. Aimee’s shaking her ass and swirling her hips while her hands roam her body before tossing them over her head. Some schmuck is trying to dance with her, but she’s not paying him any attention. Instead she’s having fun with Brooklyn and Shyla dancing beside her.

  Nudging Nathan, I tip my chin toward them.

  Aimee’s arms are above her head as she shakes it back and forth. Her hips flick one way as her cream-colored skirt twirls the other. Her blouse is tight around her torso, but the neck plunges down between her breasts to her navel. I have no clue how her tits stay covered as she jerks around.

  Brooklyn squeals the moment she spots Nathan and takes off running, throwing herself at him. Aimee’s eyes widen, her carefree smile slipping when her gaze hits mine. I’m grinning like a bastard as I approach her, appreciating the site of her glorious body. The same guy who’s been trying to dance with her places a hand on her hip and gyrates his dick against her ass.

  Clutching her hand, I pull her away from the punk and flash a wicked grin. “Get lost. You don’t deserve her.”

  Surprise slaps him across his face but instead of blowing up and creating a scene, he slinks away.

  “Was his hair not styled to your approval?” Aimee quips with a glint in her eyes.

  I bring my face closer to hers. “He wouldn’t appreciate you.”

  Her icicle-blue eyes thaw seconds before she spins away to dance again. For two songs, I watch Aimee strip for me without taking off her clothes as I keep my elbow planted on the table. Her hips and waist move teasingly as her hands roam the curves of her body and demand my gaze to follow. Sometimes her eyes locks onto mine, but other times they’re closed and lost in the erotic performance.

  The song changes and the private show she was performing dissipates. She hooks her finger at me, telling me to come and dance with her. I shake my head. Dancing with drunk Aimee, half dressed, after the way she worked me over with her moves is a horrible idea. One that will result in a raging hard-on…

  She sashays toward me, placing her hands on my stomach and then dragging them up my chest. “Come on, Shaefer. Show me your moves.” My last name slurs from her lips.

  Her touch ignites my body, causing desire to shock me like I’ve grabbed ahold of an electric fence. Fighting against everything, I frown. “Not tonight.”

  She spins, placing her back against my chest, her ass against my dick, and gyrates against me. She tosses a provocative smile over her shoulder as she grasps my hand and tugs me.

  Raising the white flag, I set my beer down and let her drag me into the depths of bodies on the dance floor. Fire blazes from her gaze as her hips swing from side to side, her hands moving over the curves of her body before flinging up.

  Fuuuuuuuuuccccckkkkk….

  Knowing touching her is an awful idea doesn’t stop me as I place my hands on her hips and we dance…together. Our bodies mold, mirroring moves, building up friction. My hands drag over the skin of her slick body, keeping them in safe places as she loses herself in the music. Every time she flips her hair, I’m caught in the sexy scent of floral and fruits mixing with her sweet perfume.

  Twisting under my palms, she links her fingers behind my neck. “I never thought you, Cody Shaefer, knew how to dance.” Her words slur again. “You’re full of surprises.”

  Arching an amused brow, I lean closer. “The art of dancing is a lot like sex.”

  The blue in her eyes darkens to a deeper shade, and being a foot shorter than me allows her to rub her stomach against my semi-hard dick. “Something else wants to show me its rhythm.”

  “That will not be joining us tonight.”

  No way would I ever take advantage of her drunk. When I finally get a taste of her, she’ll be sober and begging for more. And more importantly, she’ll remember it the next day without any regrets.

  She pouts, sticking her bottom lip out and peers up with provocative innocence. “But I really want to play with it tonight.”

  Inwardly, I groan. Frustrated as fuck. I know if I turn her down, she’ll sink deeper into the depths of this club and find someone more than willing to take her home tonight.

  Clutching her hand, I lead us away from the dance floor and toward our friends. “We’re heading out,” I announ
ce.

  “Cody’s taking me home to fuck!” Aimee notifies the entire club in what should’ve been a whisper.

  Everyone’s gazes swing to me. I focus on Nathan, the only one who can read me without saying a word. I shake my head, silently telling him I won’t touch her. He gives me a quick nod, understanding what I’m not verbalizing.

  Drunk girls are not my thing, no matter how badly or how long I’ve wanted them.

  She grabs her clutch and I lead us out into the fresh air. She stumbles once her heels hit the sidewalk and I catch her around the waist before she falls.

  “Come on,” I laugh as she lets out a “wee” while trying to right herself.

  There’s a line of cabs waiting at the curb and I make a beeline to one, opening the door for her to climb in. She stops to take her heels off, swaying as she does.

  I give the driver the address as I shut the door, and Aimee wastes no time showing me what she has on her mind. She slides across the seat, pressing her breasts against my arm, and runs a hand up the inside of my thigh. She bites her bottom lip and it’s so damn sexy, but she’s inebriated.

  “Stop.” I seize her hand from going any farther up. “You’re drunk.”

  “Drunk fucks are so much fun.”

  “Can’t say I agree.”

  A few minutes later, the cabbie pulls up in front of the house and I slam a wad of cash into his palm, trying to hold onto Aimee as she staggers out. Holding her by the waist with one arm and her shoes on my fingers in my other hand, I manage to get her up the stairs and into the house. I keep my hand on the small of her back as she sways and stumbles up the stairs toward her room. She laughs hysterically as she bounces off the walls and grabs ahold of the railing like it’s her lifeline.

  Once her feet hit the top stair, she spins to me and slams her mouth to mine.

  I know I shouldn’t. I fucking know, but I don’t stop her. She tastes like sweet liquor as her tongue seeks mine out. Her hands begin to move over my shoulders and down my chest, causing my dick to tighten against my slacks.

  Grabbing her by the shoulders, I pull away. “Aimee. You’re drunk and knowing you, you’re going to regret that.”