F*cking Awkward (24 page)

R
.E
. Hunter is the author of the bestselling Disclosure Series — 
Undone, Unbroken
and
Love in Motion
. A native New Yorker, she lives in Florida with her husband, their crazy kitten, and terror of a puppy. Surviving solely on Starbucks Iced Chai and KIND bars, she spends her days writing angsty romance and chasing happily ever afters. When not writing, you can find her on the beach with a glass of wine and a book in her hand.

“
D
amn
, it’s hot.” I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my forearm and glanced over at my best friend, Grady. He grunted a sound I took as an agreement as he struggled to throw the microwave-sized piece of granite over the ledge of the seawall.

It was close to one in the afternoon, and we’d been hoisting small boulders since just after breakfast.

Fucking Grady. He owed me for this. Big time.

After heaving the rock in the air to join the others, he turned back to face me, the scowl on his face directed at the shoulder-high pile of rocks we still had to tackle. “Look, West, I already told you I’m sorry. She said it was a small pile of rocks she needed placed — not a fucking mountain.”

I bit my tongue as I snagged a smaller rock and dropped it over the seawall, where it skipped like a Plinko chip until it nestled into its final resting place. He’s lucky I loved him like a brother. Well, and that I preferred this to the alternative of golfing with my dad and some company bigwigs.

Really, I’d prefer anything to that.

Even manual labor during a summer heat wave.

“And I told you I’d split the money with you.” His quiet grumble had me biting back any other complaint I’d been thinking of shooting his way. I didn’t need the cash. The brand new truck I’d gotten for my sixteenth birthday last month and the five-digit square footage of my grandparents’ house attested to that fact. But Grady wasn’t so lucky. When his parents died three years ago and he’d moved in with his uncle, his life had taken a drastic change. He had to earn every dollar and morsel of respect his uncle dished out, which Grady did without resentment.

His determination and single-minded focus on success would make any mogul proud, and he only rarely allowed himself to cut loose, usually when I’d badgered him into drinking from my dad’s stash of top-shelf alcohol with me.

I wouldn’t be taking my half of the earnings for today’s work, but I let his comment ride for now. Even as a teenager, I knew a thing or two about pride.

Missy — or Melissa, as she preferred to be called now that she was an adult and shit — used to babysit us back in the day. Now, she was the island’s top realtor with a showcase waterfront home in the most exclusive neighborhood on Reynold’s Island, the same one my grandparents’ house was in. She’d needed a load of granite added to her seawall and had hired Grady to handle the project. A project that was only supposed to take “a few hours, at most” he assured me on the phone last night, when he roped me into joining him.

The basketball-ball-sized chunks and smaller rocks weren’t a problem. It was the bigger ones mixed in that had my shoulders and biceps aching.

Not that I’d admit it.

Grady might only be one year older than me, but that extra fourteen months of working out was obvious. His muscles were starting to take on a bulkiness that most of our classmates didn’t have yet, and the girls had definitely noticed. While both of us sported six-packs, mine was more in the way of low body fat coupled with a high metabolism. Grady might’ve been an inch shorter than my own almost six-foot frame, but he outweighed me by a good twenty pounds of solid muscle, and I was trying to reduce that margin. Hence, the morning spent lifting rocks in the sauna-like weather of the South Carolina Lowcountry in July.

Grady closed his eyes and tipped his head back, stilling for a moment when a rare, cool breeze blew through, resignation heavy on his face. Squaring his shoulders, he tipped his head toward the cobblestone driveway where I’d parked. “I get it if you leave early. I can finish solo.”

I snorted and smacked him upside the head. “Whatever. Like I’d leave you to finish by yourself. Shut up and get back to work.”

With a wry grin of appreciation, he rolled his eyes before pulling his soaked cotton t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside on the perfectly-manicured Bermuda grass. “Shut your own mouth. I’m moving all the big rocks here.”

Bowing up at the challenge, I stripped off my own sweaty shirt and approached the never-ending pile of granite. “Bring it, G.”

I waited to see which rock he picked, then purposefully positioned myself in front of one that was larger. Squatting down, I manhandled the boulder into position and lifted with my legs, trying to hide how much I was shaking from the effort. Holding my breath, I shuffled to the edge of the seawall and dropped it more than I threw it.

Grady was right behind with an even bigger rock, which he tossed with ease.

Fucking show-off.

Turning back around, he flexed his pecs, making them jump. “Don’t be jealous,” he taunted. “Money can’t buy everything.” The laughter in his voice took any real sting out of his comment and he dodged the punch I aimed at his admittedly impressive bicep.

I went to hit him again when I realized he wasn’t even paying attention to me, stopping my fist at the last second before I actually landed the jab.

He was still, his eyes focused on something behind me, and as I continued to watch him, his jaw fell open. “But speaking of things money
can
buy,” he murmured, nodding imperceptibly toward the sprawling estate behind me.

Dropping to a crouch to play with the ends of my perfectly tied shoes, I glanced covertly over my shoulder.

And forgot to exhale.

The auburn-haired beauty walking around the corner of the infinity-edge pool was a driving hazard with all those dangerous curves threatening to escape from her tiny gold bikini. Her pale skin looked as cool and rich as fresh cream, but something about the angle of her cheekbones and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose was still vaguely familiar from the teenage version of her I remembered from childhood.

The girls at school—the vapid cheerleaders with their exaggerated pouts and bony hips—had nothing on the ripeness of this woman’s figure and the confidence in her walk as she peered over the rim of her aviator sunglasses to where we huddled by the rocks, gawking at her as she approached a thickly padded lounge chair.

“Hey, boys!” She fluttered a towel in the air until it fell just so over the chaise. “It’s hot out, isn’t it? Why don’t y’all take a quick break? I made some sweet tea earlier. Y’all want some?”

“I’ll take fucking anything she has to offer,” Grady muttered, heading in her direction without pause.

I scrambled to my feet and trailed behind him, feeling awkward as fuck when I felt a stirring in my dick and remembered I was wearing some thin-ass gym shorts.

Turning and heading back to the house, she glanced over her shoulder at us and wiggled her fingers to indicate we were to follow her. My eyes locked onto the sway of her hips and the way her gold bikini bottom had edged up on the one side, exposing a heathy portion of her full ass.

“Dibs, man,” Grady whispered, slowing down until I was walking next to him. “I call fucking dibs.”

I snorted. “Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

“That a challenge?”

“Sure.” I rolled my eyes. “A hundred bucks says you’ll never tap that.”

Squaring his shoulders, Grady pushed past me. “Watch me.”

The blast of the air conditioner chilled my skin as we stepped into the kitchen, and, sweet Jesus, I wasn’t the only one feeling the cold. Melissa’s nipples were hardened points in her triangle top as she poured three tall glasses of tea, and it was all I could do to drag my eyes away. Blood rushed to my dick, and I hurried to stand next to the kitchen island, hiding my budding erection.

Grady drained his tea in one long gulp, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. She stood frozen, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, her own glass arrested halfway to her plump lips. Sighing in satisfaction, he pushed his empty glass her direction. “I’d love some more if it’s not too much trouble.” His voice was different, lower and husky sounding.

Fucking A, he was going for it.

Her wide eyes drifted down his bare torso before flicking back up to his face, and then glancing over at me. Not to be outdone, I chugged my own tea down, squaring my shoulders as I drank.

“Delicious,” I said, dropping my own voice half an octave.
What the fuck am I doing?

She licked her lips and reached for the cut-glass pitcher. “Sure. I have plenty to go around.” Melissa scooted closer in our direction to pour, her elbow brushing first Grady’s arm and then my own as she moved around us.

The slide of her skin against mine already had me fully hard with that one tiny touch.

Leaving the tea on the counter, she headed back outside. “Have as much as you want. I’ll be by the pool.”

Grady waited until she had closed the door and then dumped his tea down the sink before hightailing it after her. Cursing under my breath, I followed his lead, taking one more quick swallow before emptying the rest and letting myself out, pausing briefly to readjust myself first.

Melissa was standing next to the chaise, one leg propped up on it, rubbing suntan lotion into her milky skin. I bit back a groan at the sight.

“—it’s taking so long,” she was saying as I got close enough to hear. “I didn’t realize it’d be so much.” Was it just me, or did she glance at Grady’s crotch when she said that last part?

“It’s no problem. We’re happy to help out, aren’t we, West?” He drawled the words lazily, shrugging one shoulder.

Giggling, she peered up at me from under impossibly long lashes. “West, do you remember me? I helped potty train you back way back when. It used to be all I could do to make you keep your pants on. You were so proud of your little weiner.”

I flushed at the mention of the word
little
used in reference to my junk. “I’d like to think I’ve grown up a bit since then.”

There was no mistaking it this time, the way her eyes traveled down my length, pausing to study the tent at the front of my shorts.

“Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, it sure looks like you have.”

“You look different now too,” I blurted out, wanting to swallow the words as soon as they’d escaped.

She stood up straight at my remark, dropping her glistening leg to the ground and glancing down at herself. She hesitated a moment, but then one corner of her mouth slid up slowly in a knowing grin and, if it was possible, she pushed her chest out further. “Better than you remember, I hope.”

Fuck, yes.
I swallowed hard and then gave her the bold truth. “I used to have a crush on you back then.”

“And now?” Her soft whisper floated on the air between us, and she bit her lip.

“I’m pretty sure you’re still out of my league,” I admitted, my attention centered on those red lips.

Grady stepped between us, breaking the spell, and plucked the suntan lotion from Melissa’s hand. “Here, let me help you with your back. Wouldn’t want you getting burned because you can’t reach.”

Uncertainty flickered in her eyes so briefly, I might have imagined it, before pure heat replaced it, making her dark eyes glow. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Grady. Here, maybe it would be easier if I laid down first?”

She lowered herself to the chaise, kneeling on it briefly on all fours, and, I swear on all that’s holy, she shook her ass just a bit before she settled on her stomach. My cock leapt in my shorts, and I was lucky that her head was turned the opposite direction.

Grady poured some lotion in his hands, rubbing his palms together, bending over her back, and placing his hands on her shoulders. She jumped a little at the contact.

“Brrrr.” She shivered a bit under his touch. “That’s cold.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be feeling warm here in a minute.” Grady’s response was instantaneous, his tone light and teasing as his fingers moved over her skin.

Not to be left out, I scooped up the bottle and poured some lotion in my own hands, rubbing them together first to warm them up. “Here,” I said, moving to the bottom of the chaise. “Let me get that other leg for you.”

Starting at her ankle, I wrapped my fingers around her leg, running my palms up her smooth calf, her skin a hundred times softer than I expected. I coated her lower leg and stopped to run my hands back down to her foot, giving it an impromptu massage, letting my thumbs dig into the tender arch of her foot.

She shifted on the chair, her low moan taking my dick from mostly to fully hard.

Clearing his throat, Grady caught my attention. “Melissa, if you plan on just laying out for a while, do you want me to untie these strings for you? So you don’t get tan lines?” He nodded at me in encouragement.

I gave each toe some individual attention, loving the way she made a little noise each time I reached the end of one. When I couldn’t resist any longer, I got some more lotion and inched my way above her knee, easing my hands up the back of her toned thigh.

“You know,” she finally answered, “I probably shouldn’t, but the dress I’m wearing to the Gala next month is strapless, and tan lines would kind of ruin the look.”

“Well, problem solved.” Grady slowly pulled the end of the string in the middle of her back until the knot stretched… and released. He repeated the motion with the tie behind her neck until she was spread before us, all pale skin except for a scrap of gold fabric covering part of her ass.

My hands were halfway up her thigh now and I wasn’t sure how far to push my luck, but with the removal of her top, I grew bolder. I massaged upwards in short, steady strokes, until I reached the crease where the curve of her ass met her leg. Softly, I ran just my thumbs along that indentation, one slipping higher, and the other trailing down, following the edge of her bikini as it ran between her legs. She sucked in a sharp breath.

Grady wasn’t sitting idle. When I wasn’t watching my own fingers flirt with the very edge of her ass, I was following the way he was working his hands along her ribs, grazing her sides of her tits where they swelled out from under her. Her arms were resting above her head, and she made no move to cover herself on the first pass of his fingers over her exposed skin.

I moved one hand to her other leg, until I was sliding my hands along both thighs, my thumbs along her inner thighs. She stretched beneath us, her toes and her shoulders raising off the chair as her muscles flexed. When she relaxed, I’ll be damned if her legs weren’t a few inches farther apart than they had been beforehand and a bit more of her generous chest bared to our hungry eyes.