Page 96 of Shade
Shirt.
Again.
If I hadn’t seen him, my heart would have first. I know it but the way it kicks up a notch. My entire body senses his presence near me. He takes his time walking, barely acknowledging those around him. His walk alone screams arrogance and concedes with the gravitational pull he has on me. Somehow, I anchor myself to the chair, but my eyes, they betray me and follow his every step.
He stops near the pool, stands there for a moment, his black-and-white board shorts hanging low enough on his hips that I can see the faint dusting of hair I followed with my tongue the night we were together.
He’s with another guy, who Willa notes is Auden, his best friend. They stop on the other side of the pool when Auden motions to me, his eyes on mine with a smile and a cigarette dangling from his lips. The orange glint brightens, and he sucks in a breath, nudging Shade with his elbow.
Shade turns around, glances my way, lifts his sunglasses and then turns back around facing the girls who are hanging on him. He’s got a glass in one hand, a bottle of what appears to be vodka in the other, but I can’t tell from here.
He sits down. Women sit with him. One on his lap. He raises the glass to his lips, his head pointed my direction, but I can’t tell if he’s looking or not because of those stupid fucking sunglasses.
It’s then I notice exactly how much these guys are drinking. “Don’t we have to leave for Paris in the morning?”
“Yep.” Willa stands and reaches for her phone. “Flight leaves at 10:00 a.m.”
“Soooo. . . . they probably shouldn’t be drinking this much?”
“They’re seasoned drinkers. But yeah, good luck controlling that. I gotta go.”
And then she leaves me.
I stay where I’m at, almost afraid to move because if I do, to get to the guest house, I have to walk toward Shade, and I’m not sure I’m ready to do that just yet.
He’s still drinking an hour later and eventually says fuck it, discards the glass and drinks straight from the bottle.
Women never leave his side. Ten of them at least. Some pressure him to dance, others just sit there, attempting to get his attention. Hell, half of them no longer have tops on.
There’s even a sign on the pool that says, No Clothes Allowed and most of the women, and Roan, are taking it seriously. Yep. Saw Roan’s junk already.
I’m staring. Not at Roan, he’s hot, but I can’t break my eyes away from Shade when he smiles at something the girl he’s dancing with says and my heart thuds. He puts his arm around her as she grinds and twerks into him.
Jesus Christ.
Her hair is long, black, wavy, oh what the fuck does it matter? Do you even care?
What matters is she’s touching him, and I can’t.
This is going to be a reallylongthree months.
Will they have sex tonight? Is he going to be doing this all the time and I have to sit back and be like. . . do your thing?
Don’t worry about me. I secretly love you, but that’s okay. Rip my heart out.
Will he treat her like he treated me? Will he put her in a full nelson and then pull out?
I hope he forgets her name.
I hope he gets so drunk, because let’s face it, that bottle is nearly gone now that he can’t get it up.
As they move together, slowly and sensually, I think, no, Iobsessabout the way he’s holding her.
What does she feel when the heat of his breath hits her neck?
Damn it, that’s my heat she’s getting.
When his hands travel to her waist and a little lower, gripping her hips to the point his inked knuckles turn white, it has me questioning whether she senses the power his hands hold?