Motherfucker. That small piece of resistance I thought I had... Yeah... That's gone. She just volunteered to do shots with me, knowing the intimacy of this little game.
"Kode," she says in the next breath, but he's shaking his head and holding his hand up for her to stop.
I'll kill him if he causes a scene.
"Sorry, Rain. I forgot I have to meet with some clients in the morning. I should go before the shots portion of the evening."
She almost looks relieved, and he walks over to kiss her sweetly on the cheek before heading out through my beach access. Everyone knows that's bullshit, but I'd rather he'd be gone.
She goes through the rest of the names, blinking ever so often, considering she messed up the rhythm apparently, and now she has to remember what names she has or hasn't used. But as everyone gets paired up, the moment of truth comes.
Did she only choose me because she was scared about being paired with someone else? Am I her comfort zone? I don't like being the comfortable one. Fucking teddy bears are comfortable.
"I've got the shots poured," Maverick sings, pushing all the tequila our way.
Salt shakers start sliding down the slick, marble-top table, and for a moment, I'm distracted by the fact I have so many salt shakers. My moment of distraction disappears when Rain comes to sit in my lap, throwing her leg over me so that she's straddling me as intimately as possible with our clothes on.
Holy hell.
"Who takes the first shot?" she asks, her vixen's smile doing terribly wonderful things to my cock as she pushes closes, applying all the painfully perfect pressure.
"Guys," Maverick chirps, not realizing she was directing that question to me only.
Her blue eyes burn into mine, and I start worrying that she might be drunk. Why is she doing this so willingly? We haven't even started this game yet, and I'm already going crazy. Is this another one of her mind fucks?
These are questions girls would ask, not guys. So I'm just going to shut the fuck up and enjoy the ride.
I watch as she moves the shot glass to her cleavage, and I try to breathe when she shifts in my lap, rubbing against me almost intentionally, and letting her dress rise up to show the lacy fabric of her underwear.
Ah, hell.
Holding back a painful groan, I move to lick the salt from her neck, tugging her closer than necessary, and lingering on her neck for a breath too long. I pull back, pick the shot glass up with my mouth, and shoot it effortlessly. I love tequila.
Rain smiles as she shows me the lime in her mouth, and I take it, brushing my lips lightly against hers to retrieve it. Electricity burns through me as though that slight graze of our lips was enough to jumpstart a car.
Rye doesn't show the same finesse, and he deliberately pulls Tria to him to make a sloppy exchange of the lime. Tria laughs, but pulls back shaking her head.
"Worried about Tria?" Rain asks, feigning casual interest, but she can't hide the pissed-off undercurrent of her tone.
I stifle the teasing grin I want to give her. Is she really jealous of Tria?
"Just didn't realize she knew Rye well enough to be so cozy," I murmur, poking at her a little more.
"She doesn't. But Rye is friends with Ethan, our cousin. We both know him... through reputation. Just like most people know you."
That actually ends my moment of fun. I hated the rumors when we were in school because of Rain. She had to hear all that bullshit, and it's a little emasculating to squash rumors that most guys beg for. But now, I wish so badly I had sucked up my pride and shattered every image I had back then.
Same shit still happens these days, just not as much. In the back of my mind, I've always wondered if those stupid ass rumors about all those girls and me is what held Rain back. But if so, what's holding her back now? Those rumors are nowhere nearly as rough.
"You two are getting behind," Raya says while cursing her empty shot glass, earning a chuckle from Kade when she shivers from the aftertaste.
"You going to drink it or hold it?" I ask Rain, sounding as cocky as I possibly can, but only because it always irritates the hell out of her.
She hands me a lime while accepting the challenge, and I slip it into my mouth, relishing the stronger taste of citrus now that my mouth isn't coated in tequila. She pours a little bit of the salt on my neck, though none of it really sticks.
With barely any warning, she leans in and licks my neck, lingering longer than I did when she starts suckling. I'm so glad I'm already sitting down. I would have collapsed by now.
She pulls back suddenly, and I almost demand for her to continue, but she chugs the shot glass. A small trickle of tequila runs down her mouth, and she cringes while muttering something about hating tequila. Before I can question such blasphemy, her lips are on mine.