Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,58
lucky I found someone who wants to be with me, no questions asked, and just have a bit of fun for the time being. It’s like you said, minus all the drugs part. Being with Knox is like getting back on that horse.” I lean towards her, holding my hands apart to detail what I mean. “And let me tell you, girl. That is one horse I definitely like to ride.”
Sunny dissolves into a fit of giggles. “Oh my lord. You would find the hottest guy visiting for the summer who also has an enormous penis. No wonder you were walking funny this morning.”
My eyes gleam. “No, Sunny, that was from the way he used his tongue this morning.”
Her lips form a hilarious round shape and she scoots closer to me. In her best Frenchy voice, she sings, “Tell me more, tell me more—was it love at first lick?”
“Let’s just say, he definitely got me damp and not in the way Sandy meant,” I tell her with a wink.
She sings more of “Summer Lovin’” from Grease, shimmying her shoulders. We belt out the rest of the song, and when Sam chimes in with the last line, sounding more like a drowning cat than John Travolta, we fall back onto our towels howling in laughter and clutching our stomachs.
When I finally catch my breath, I glance over to Sunny. “Apparently you loved that movie as much as I did?” I ask, not surprised in the least.
“I may have gone to the drive-in ten or so times to see it.”
“And how many times did you actually watch?”
“All ten.”
I laugh. “Poor Joe!”
“Are you kidding? I was always ramped up and ready to go afterwards!”
“I’m a little jealous. I never got to experience it in the drive-in. But I may have gone to the theater in Knoxville every day for a week—and twice in one day with Grams. I’ve practically worn the soundtrack out.”
Just as we get into a rousing debate about John Travolta’s prowess and his performances in both Grease and Saturday Night Fever, Joe runs up, flicking his hair on us like a wet dog, raining water droplets over the both of us. It’s welcome on such a hot day. Sunny squeals as Joe hauls her up into his arms and takes her into the lake, kicking and screaming. Then he unceremoniously dumps her into the water to the guffawing laughter from Clay and Sam.
Knox saunters up the sand towards me, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Shaking my head, I scoot back on my towel, but it’s no use. He pounces just as he reaches me, scooping me up into his arms.
“You’re looking a bit flushed, Amelia. And though it’s becoming my favorite look of yours, what kinda man would I be if I allowed you to get overheated?”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I prepare for the inevitable dunking in the lake. “Hmm. You tell me, considering that, until last night, you let me overheat for nearly a week straight.”
His chest rumbles with his laughter. “Trust me, babe. Won’t be makin’ that mistake again.”
Instead of launching me into the water like Joe did to Sunny, Knox wades out until he’s about chest deep. I’m clinging to his shoulders, and he grins down at me. Or, rather, at my breasts.
“Have I told you lately that I really like it when you wear Sunny’s swimsuits?”
“Don’t get used to it. This is the last one,” I inform him.
“Guess that means we’ll have to go shopping.”
“You’d go shopping for bathing suits with a girl?” I ask, incredulous.
“Nah. I wouldn’t go shipping with a girl. But I’d go shopping with you. Especially if it means I get to watch you try everything on.”
What’d ya know? Shopping plans just became a crucial part of our immediate future.
“Who wants to play chicken?!” Sunny’s voice interrupts our moment.
I groan. “We might as well. She won’t leave us alone until we do.”
Clay and Sam agree to referee, which is a good thing because Sunny lives to cheat. Her possessive streak comes alive any time there’s a competition. If I survive this game with only a couple of burns from back flops onto the water, it’ll be considered a win for me.
Once we agree to terms—meaning Sunny is not allowed to use her nails on my boobs (much to Sam’s chagrin)—Knox sinks so I can get into position on the backs of his shoulders. Considering he’s a few inches taller than Joe, I’m starting to feel good about our chances.