Kiss and Don't Tell(60)

Pacey smooths his hands over my waist and then back up. His hands glide under my thong, and then up to the underwire of my bra. His jaw is tight, his eyes angry, and then he’s taking my hand in his. “I don’t want to be fucking crude with you, but I think this is the only way I can prove my point.” He brings my hand to right above his crotch, but doesn’t force me to touch him as he says, “If you cupped me right now, you’d see how goddamn hard I am . . . just from being near you. You’d feel how much my cock strains for you. You’d understand why I want to be around you all the time, because I think you’re hella gorgeous, Winnie. You’re all kinds of my type, Eli’s too. I’m just the lucky bastard who stole you away from everyone else first.” My hand hovers but doesn’t touch—I’m too nervous, too scared. “Just having your hand right there, knowing how close you are . . .” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck, Winnie, it makes me think of that second night we hung out, Jenga night, when I had to jack off in the shower thinking about you after we recreated your favorite position.”

“You . . . you did?”

He nods, his teeth rolling over his lip as the muscles in his neck strain.

It’s sexy.

It’s tempting.

And before I know what I’m doing, my hand is connecting with his length, and oh my God, he isn’t lying. He is hard as stone.

And so big.

God, is he big.

My fingers explore the outline of his length until they reach the head. He sucks in a sharp breath and I consider undoing his trunks and dropping to my knees, but that would require me to use my leg muscles and, right now, they need the warm water of the hot tub.

I pull my hand away and feel my face blush as I take a step back. His eyes shamelessly travel down my body and then back up again, lingering on my breasts before they rest on my face.

“So, yes, after careful observation, you are in fact hard.” I pretend to tip an imaginary hat at him for some reason—God knows I can’t act chill for one second. “That’s quite the erection, dear sir.” I pump my fist as if to say “good job, old chap” in an old-timey voice.

The corners of his lips tilt up. Glad he has a sense of humor, because this could be really humiliating if he didn’t.

“So, I think I’m going to get into the hot tub now. You know, since I can barely walk and all.”

He still doesn’t say anything; instead, he takes my hand and helps me step into the tub.

“Ooh, that’s nice,” I say, letting my body sink into the warm, jet-propelled water. “This is just what I needed.”

“Sit here,” he says, helping me into a seat that’s right up against a jet. “But don’t groan like that again. Please.”

He lets go of my hand and then takes the seat across from me. There could be an entire man’s body between us, that’s how big this tub is.

“Is it really necessary to sit all the way over there?” I ask, raising my voice to be heard over the loud rumble from the jets. “It’ll be hard to carry on a conversation.”

“I don’t trust myself near you.”

“Well, I trust you. Please, Pacey. Just a little closer. I don’t want to be shouting.”

Sighing, he moves closer, not directly next to me, but close enough.

“Thank you. Isn’t that better?”

“It would be better if you sank a little lower in the water.”

I glance down and see that my breasts are floating right at the edge of the water, and because my bra is not made to contain buoyant breasts, I’m practically giving Pacey a peekaboo show.

“Oops, sorry.” I sink deeper into the water and smile over at him. “This is fun.”

“It would be more fun if you were sitting on my lap.”

My eyes widen at his brazenness. Not sure anyone has ever talked to me like that. “That’s upfront.”

He shifts and says, “Tired of skirting around the truth, so I’m going to tell you like it is, because I feel like you need the truth.”

“And, um, what . . . uh, would be the truth?” I ask, twisting my hands together in the water, my nerves getting the better of me.

“The truth is plain and simple: I want you.”

Oh.

I want to full-on grin and fan myself, but I hold back. “That’s a nice thing to say to someone. Thank you.”

He raises one brow in my direction. “That’s all you’re going to say? ‘That’s a nice thing to say’? ‘Thank you’? No reciprocation of feelings or anything?”

Wanting to bring back some of the fun, I decide to tease him a bit. “Well, I can’t quite make that kind of statement, because I don’t know much about you other than you enjoy cider, you apparently have a thing for curvy girls, and you play hockey.”

“And those three things don’t guarantee me an ‘I want you, too’?” His voice is so cute, so perplexed and confused.

“Well, the second thing makes my heart beat a little faster, the first thing makes me believe we could have some fun visiting different cideries, and the third one . . . well, I know nothing about hockey, so it doesn’t really affect me much. But I still want to know more about you.”

“Ask your questions, then.”

“Okay, so any siblings besides your sister you told me about before?”