Bad Things (Tristan & Danika, #1)(21)

“Oh, darn. I was hoping you’d have to borrow a bikini from me. That would have made my day.”

He laughed. “You’ll have to remember that the next time you win a bet.”

Tristan was competitive. In fact, he took the term to a whole new level. He could turn anything into a challenge, from eating breakfast, to being the dogs’ favorite, and he liked to gamble with it. Always. Even my mundane life was never dull, with Tristan around.

“Oh, I will, now that you’ve put it on the table.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, waving a hand as though to ward the notion off. “It’s not on the table unless you have something just as big to wager on your end.”

I pursed my lips, thinking. “I’ll come up with something by the time you pull some new competition out of your sleeve.”

“How about letting me sleep in your bed?” His expression was perfectly innocent, the reprobate.

“Excuse me?” I asked, wondering if I’d heard him right.

“No funny business. If I win our next wager, I get to sleep in your bed with you, instead of on the couch. I repeat, no funny business. If you win, I’ll wear one of your bikinis for a humiliating swim session. It’ll have to be here at the house, and with the boys gone, since I can guarantee I’ll be exposing myself.”

My mind went crazy for a minute, picturing that very vividly. I’d never thought that cross-dressing could be a turn-on for me.

“Oh no, boo,” he uttered softly, watching me. “Don’t get that look on your face. Are you trying to kill me?”

I snapped out of it, swallowing hard. He’d won our little tiff over the nickname boo. I’d given up. He’d wanted to call me that more than I hadn’t wanted him to. I was secretly even beginning to think it was cute.

I pointed. “You can change first. I need to get the boys’ swim trunks out for them.”

He strode out of the kitchen and towards my room. I wasn’t surprised when I heard the shower turn on less than a minute later.

I fished out the boys’ swim trunks and left them to change. I nearly walked into Tristan as he stepped out of my bedroom and into my path.

I looked up at his face, trying hard not to stare at his bare chest. The sight was mouth-watering. “The boys are getting ready,” I told him. “Now I just need to change. I only need a minute. Can you wait out by the pool, in case they jump the gun and rush it?”

He just nodded, turned, and walked away. I had the supreme self-control not to watch him do it.

I was a big fan of one-piece black suits for pool time with the boys, but I didn’t even consider it just then. I fished out my only string bikini. It was bronze, with a gold cover-up, but I left the cover-up in my drawer, knowing I’d be swimming the entire time.

I was reaching out to open the sliding glass door that led to the pool when I remembered sunscreen.

I grabbed a tube of forty-five SPF out of the bathroom, catching Mat as he was racing through the hallway.

He stood still, but tapped his foot impatiently as I helped him put it on. “I coulda been in the pool already, boo,” he whined.

“Well, we don’t swim without putting sunblock on first, so no you couldn’t have,” I told him sternly. I wasn’t one to indulge whiny moods.

He glanced at me, and snapped out of it almost instantly. “Can I go now?”

I nodded, waving him off. “Go for it, peeka.”

Ivan came barreling down the hallway, and I gave him the same treatment. He stood patiently, knowing the routine.

“Is Tristan going to live with us for very long?” he asked.

“Not very long. Just another week or two. How come?”

“I like him. He’s a good cook, and he’s funny.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I told him, then waved him off.

I took a minute to pull my hair into a messy ponytail on top of my head, and carefully sun-blocked my face in the mirror. I went outside to keep an eye on the boys as I spread it over my body.

Ivan and Mat were already in the pool as I stepped outside. Tristan was poised at the edge of the pool, watching them attentively. I had a brief moment to take in the awesome sight of Tristan shirtless in broad daylight before he looked at me.

I slipped on my gold framed shades, then bent to rub the sunscreen into my thighs. I propped my foot on one of the carelessly strewn lounge chairs to cover my knee and calf. Slowly, I gave my other leg the same treatment. I straightened, rubbing it onto my shoulders, and arms.

I began to walk towards Tristan as I slathered it onto my stomach.

I handed him the bottle when I reached him.

I saw his throat work as he swallowed hard. He was wearing shades, too, but I could still read his expression well enough.

“Want me to get your back?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, caught off-guard. I’d forgotten to do my back. I’d meant for him to use it for himself, but he made a good point. I turned around.

The first touch of his slick hands made me jump. He rubbed the sunblock on, and I was very conscious of the fact that I loved his hands on me. And he hadn’t even begun…

After he’d covered my shoulders and back with tantalizingly light touches, he began to rub and massage, focusing on my shoulders. I just about melted beneath his fingertips.

“Mmmm,” I hummed as he worked at a tense spot on my neck.