Marcus
Rebecca is perched on my lap like I'm the damn Santa Claus. Her damp hair drips slow rivulets down my chest, and her skin is glowing in the dim light.
The red bikini is impossible to ignore. It clings wetly to every curve, and when she crosses her legs over my knee, I feel a jolt…electric and unwelcome.
I play it cool, but there's no denying the pressure point tightening in my chest. The girl is crazy. Her nail polish is chipped, her laughter too loud, and her scent…sweet, unruly curls into my senses, refusing to be shaken off.
She keeps up the running commentary, alternating digs at my masculinity and the excessive whiteness of my teeth. I half-listen, adjusting my arm as if to give her more space, but she leans in against my body.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Hailey. She is tucked under Josh's arm.
Goddammit…me trying to throw Elise at Josh isn't working.
