Embody (Full Circle #1)
Page 4
“Yeah,” my voice comes out feathery, envisioning what that’d be like. “I can see why you wouldn’t.”
“Oh God,” she yelps, jumping to her feet. “My husband is trying to serve with his naked butt. Time for me to take him home. So nice to meet you tonight,” she calls out to me before yelling at her husband, indeed mooning everyone. “Beckett, butt covered and out of the pool! We’re leaving.”
“Daddy, damn! Nobody wants to see that,” Presley chimes in, looking in the opposite direction of her father’s ass.
Totally getting their abhorrence, but not exactly looking away either. His ass is…not that of ‘a dad.’ Nope, looks just fine from here.
Probably not okay for me to be thinking that though, so I switch my gaze to the person I’ve struggled to keep it off of all night. Unsuccessfully.
Jefferson Tate Kendrick.
He does magical, unfamiliar things to my every sense and part of my body.
His wet hair looks jet black and in the water, obviously shirtless, his glorious upper body is on glistening display. He’s well over six feet tall and I love when a man towers over me, making me feel dainty and feminine. His arms are tan and very well defined with muscles, but not too bulky.
And don’t even get me started on his stomach. Flat and rippled with a faint, dark line of hair extending down from his belly button, along his six pack, hinting at something even better than the deeply grooved dents of his oblique muscles. The ‘V’ women always look for first.
Found it.
I see good looking guys every day, but never have I had such a visceral reaction to anyone like I do to JT. There’s just something about him, a silent confidence that speaks for itself and a virility oozing off him that makes my heartbeat spike, insides tingle and eyes worship hungrily.
“Okay, all horny parentals, time to say goodnight.” It’s JT’s deep voice that clears my scandalous thoughts, pulling me back into the present.
I see now why he felt the need for the announcement. It’s adorable really, how these men love their wives, demonstratively.
I specifically watch Mr. Kendrick, because…I’m sure his son has some of those same characteristics and God, what would it possibly feel like to be wanted, adored, like that?
The Allens leave hand in hand, Sawyer’s already been led to their vehicle, Bennett is riding piggy-back on her blond behemoth and Laney is thrown over her husband’s shoulder. None of them seeming the least bit disappointed that it’s time to go.
Mr. Kendrick stops mid-stride and turns to address those remaining. “If you drank a single drop, I better find your ass asleep here in the morning. Keep the music down and nobody gets hurt. I could look out my window at any time, so behave accordingly. I love and trust you all, don’t abuse that. Understood?”
A round of “yes sirs” goes out as he hitches Laney higher up on his shoulder and hurries toward the house.
Which leaves The Squad, Ryder and me.
“What now?” Presley asks.
“Now,” Brynn swims to the edge right in front of me. “Bellamy finally puts on her bathing suit and gets in the pool with her best friend on her special night.”
“Could you have loaded any more guilt into that?” I laugh.
“I could try. Are you gonna do it?”
Six sets of eyes bore into me, waiting on my answer. If I string it out into a long production, the bigger deal it will be, so I stand and nod. “Be right back.”
What do I have to lose? Skylar and Presley’s suits don’t leave much to the imagination, I’ll fit right in. Not to mention, there’s only three guys here and one’s married, one’s with Brynn, despite her odd behavior tonight, and the last? I don’t much mind if he enjoys the view. If he enjoys the view. I’m not one of those stick-figure girls, my mama gave me curves.
BY THE TIME I return, wearing my new red bikini and hiding as much of myself as I can with my arms, a bottle of champagne left over from the party is being passed around.
I’m pretty sure Brynn and I are the only ones not old enough to drink, and I thought I had already gathered that everyone is way too protective over her to allow her a taste… but apparently not.
“Go ahead, Brynny.” Skylar hands her the bottle. “It’s your night and we’re all here to watch you. Nobody’s going anywhere.”
She starts to take the bottle then stops to look at JT, who has a scowl on his face and just let out a low growl.
“Oh stop,” Skylar gripes at him. “Like you never drank before you were twenty-one. I can remember picking you up from at least two parties just off the top of my head. She’s in her own backyard for God’s sake! Relax, hypocrite. Here Brynny, take it and ignore him. I’d rather you do it when we’re around and if JT doesn’t knock it off, I’ll have Judd kick his ass. Right, honey?”
“Uh, wrong,” Judd laughs and kisses the top of her head. “You Kendrick siblings do just fine duking it out yourselves.”
“Amen,” Ryder adds.
“Bellamy, you in with me?” Brynn asks.
“I…well…” have drank before and don't think it’s a big deal, but… “I just don’t want to get caught by your parents and have them think badly of me.”
Presley and Skylar both die laughing, taking turns at a gulp from the bottle.
“Bellamy, cool name by the way, lemme let ya in on a little secret.” Presley throws an arm over my shoulder and belches.
“Very classy, P,” Jefferson grumbles.
“Thanks, felt good too.” She flings a sarcastic smile his way. “Anyway, Bellamy, I can assure you, once Uncle Dane carries Aunt Laney to bed on his shoulder, they’re not coming out of their room until morning. They’ll screw themselves into comas.”
“Um, eww. True, but eww,” Brynn’s face scrunches in disgust.
“Oh my God, enough talking about it,” Skylar huffs. “Bottoms up, babies!”
She shoves the bottle in my hands and with a playful shrug and smile at Brynn, I tip it back then pass it to her. Then she drinks and hands off to Judd, and so it goes with everyone in the circle ‘til the bubbly is gone and my head’s a tiny bit fuzzy.
“Hell yeah!” Presley claps her hands. “What’s next, bitches? Marco Polo or Manhunt?”
“Manhunt?” Judd chuckles. “Are we twelve again?”
“Just for that, Manhunt it is! Sky, tell your man to pull the stick out of his ass,” Presley bosses. Definitely the ‘wild child’ of the bunch.
“Honey, pull the stick outta your ass,” Skylar tells Judd with a quick kiss.
“Okay, who’s hunting?” Presley asks.
I hesitantly raise my hand.
“Yes, Aunt Whitley 2.0, you want to hunt or do you have a question?” Skylar looks at me and laughs, joined by the others.
Brynn leans over and explains. “Our Aunt Whitley has a habit of raising her hand in the middle of conversations.”
“Oh,” I snicker. “Well, I do have a question, several actually. I don’t know how to play Manhunt.”
Everyone looks at me as if I just said I skin puppies for fun.
“What? I don’t have any siblings, or a Squad,” I defend myself. “Please divert your stares away from the one of these things that’s not like the others.”
“Very quippy, nice.” Presley nods in approval and gives me a high five. “You’re gonna fit in just fine. Okay, so how you play, super difficult, is…somebody hunts and the rest of us hide. Got it?”
Maybe it’s the champagne, or perhaps my rising comfort level, but I blurt out, “Why didn’t you just say ‘Hide and Seek’?”
“Thank you!” Judd throws out his arms and shakes his head. “That’s what I’ve been saying since, again, we were twelve.”
“Honey, stick, ass, remember?” Skylar elbow nudges him in the side.
“People, focus!” Presley takes charge with another loud clap. “I did not update the lingo, it just is. So call it whatever the fuck you want, let’s play. The J’s are hunting, that’s Judd and JT for any of you too drunk or
dumb to figure it out. The rest of us are hiding. Backyard only, nothing outside the fence. And no grouping up, everyone hides alone.”
I do a quick evaluation in my head. It’s dark out and the Kendrick backyard is enormous. As in, probably at least a couple acres. If someone doesn’t find me, I may very well stay lost until sunrise—no shit.
And why did I have to put on a damn bathing suit on for this?
The Squad—disorganized, spontaneous…or just plain crazy?
Six
JT
HELL YES I’LL be a hunter, focused on only one target—a hot ass redhead in a tiny bikini of the same color.
I had no idea what an excellent choice I’d made when I called the store to order her gifts. Bellamy and her body do crazy good things for that bikini. Not the other way around. She turns a couple of pieces of material into the ultimate tease…intricately placed scraps hinting at the absolute perfection underneath. I’ve been hard since she walked back outside in it.
And now, Presley, my new favorite person in the world, has unknowingly set the stage for me to sneak in some up close and personal time with Bellamy. Brynn will be hiding somewhere in the dark, concentrating only on staying quiet and still, while I go hunt down her forbidden friend.
“Alright, we’ll give you five minutes. Go,” I set the timer on my phone and watch them all scatter, waiting until Bellamy’s bouncing, bubble ass is completely out of sight before turning my back.
“If your sister and I don’t make it back in time for the next round, go ahead and start without us,” Judd says.
“Same goes,” I laugh, “for me and not my sister.”
“No disrespect, you know I’ve only got eyes for Sky, but I don’t blame ya a bit, brother.” He claps my shoulder. “I mean, dayummm. You sure she’s single?”
“Yep.”
“How is that possible?” His shock is understandable. Especially once you’ve seen Bellamy in a bathing suit.
“She’s like Brynny,” I shrug, quite happily I might add. “And our moms, not to make it weird,” I chuckle. “She’s about school, goals, real shit. Doesn’t date much or worry about guys and parties from what I’ve been told. That’s five minutes, let’s go. Wish me luck.”
“I would’ve,” he mumbles, dipping his head to rub the back of his neck, “until you told me all that about her.”
“What the fuck?” I push his shoulder, hard. “I gave the toast at your wedding, to my sister, and you’re gonna come at me with that shit?”
“J…wait…” he tries to stop me from walking away.
“Fuck you and your ‘wait’. We gotta hunt, it’s been almost ten minutes now. We’ll talk later, when I haven’t been drinking and you’ve rethought your bullshit.”
“Sorry man,” I hear him mutter behind me.
“Yeah, you sure the fuck are, a sorry ass friend. I’m going left, I suggest you go far, far, right,” I reply without turning around.
First thing in the morning, no, make that first thing tomorrow afternoon, I’m gonna talk to my Uncle Sawyer…the labeled “playboy” of his generation in our family. Find out what he did with all the doubt when he mentioned being interested in someone. Hope he’s got a helluva cure, ‘cause this shit is really starting to piss me off.
In the meantime, I’m gonna use my anger as fuel. Fuel to decide for myself…what exactly it is I want from the temptress that is Bellamy Morgan.
I creep down the left fence line and with no effort whatsoever, spot Presley hunkered down behind the ivy-covered lattice. For picking the game, she sure sucks at it, but no matter—I pass right by her. The bushes up ahead move, Ryder trying to get a closer view of Brynn, lying down on the ground behind one of the flower bed borders. I keep going, didn’t see a thing.
Damn, for a newbie, sweet Bellamy has me stumped. I’m all the way to the back fence, making my way east, without finding her yet. Judd was only looking for Skylar, but would have called out loud had he found anyone else first…so Bellamy’s still out here somewhere, lying in wait…for me.
And finally there it is, a quick flash of red, like a beacon in the dark, as she peeks around the tree to check where the hunters are.
I’m right here, Gorgeous. And I’m coming for you.
I sneak around to approach her from behind, one hand tightly gripping her full, feminine hip, the other covering her mouth. It muffles her scream as I slowly turn her to face me. “Sshh,” I calm her down. “Can you be quiet?”
She nods, so I take my hand away from her mouth—just the one hand. The other’s busy rubbing her soft skin, learning her curves.
“Found ya,” I whisper, backing her up against the tree.
“Yes, you did,” she whispers back breathily. “Now what?”
My chest rumbles, my fingers digging into her skin. “Now I’m supposed to yell that I found you.”
“But you don’t want to?” Her innocent, wide-eyes are an act, the gradual glide of her tongue over that plump bottom lip telling me so.
I don’t speak, slowly shaking my head to answer, then let my eyes run the length of her, soaking in every delectable inch.
“W…why not?” she asks on a shaky wisp.
I force my gaze back up to lock on hers and move forward, a slow, subtle inch, until our bodies touch. “Belle, I…”
“Call me Bellamy,” she sweetly interrupts. “I’m named after my two aunts, Isabelle and Amy. If you shorten it, we leave one of them out and I feel bad. Silly, I know,” she rolls her eyes, “but I’m a sappy, sentimental kinda girl.”
Sappy. Sentimental. In girl language, they both actually mean romantic, hearts and flowers, hold me while I cry through movies, a rainstorm means stop and kiss me. Those kind of things. Because I have so many in my family, I speak “female” fluently.
The “why” of which I have yet to figure out myself, I think I really do want to get to know this girl, do more than just sleep with her, but I’m not sure I’m ready for all that. And this beauty, looking at me with the hope of a tender, meaningful kiss glazing over her big green eyes, deserves everything her heart desires.
I know next to nothing about her, but I’m sure of it.
So, for the right reasons and not because of the “sister stipulation”,” I remove my hand from her hip, back up and yell, “I found Bellamy.”
She searches my stare for the answer to her question ‘what changed and why’ asked in her eyes, but I say nothing. Leaving her to unfairly have to wonder, I turn and walk away, forcing my shoulders not to droop with disappointment.
I bow out of playing another round and go to bed, disgusted with myself to realize…they’re right. Brynn and Judd have me pegged. I’m not quite the man whore my sister thinks I am, but I’m not exactly chivalrous either. And Bellamy—like Brynn, Skylar, and every other woman in my family—is more than worthy of nothing less than the romantic fairytale I now know she wants.
Girls don’t abstain from dating and frat parties for some half-ass effort made by punks such as myself in hopes of eventually getting them into bed. No, they hold out for the whole, sincere package.
And that’s that.
Or so I thought.
Just as I roll over to try and fall asleep, not picturing Bellamy, my phone pings with a text.
Brynn: You ass! I ignored poor Ryder all night for nothing. I almost cried from the sad, confused look on his face and why? I know it was you who bought her that bikini and stuff, and Lord only knows what you tried when you found her in the game…after walking right by me! Deal’s off cheater!
Me: You’re right, I did buy her that stuff. So yes, I cheated. But for the record, I only touched her hip when I found her. Doesn’t matter though. I agree, deal’s off. You be happy with Ryder. He’s a great guy. And I’ll stay away from your friend. Night, I love you Brynny.
Brynn: I love you too. And seriously, you’ll stay away from her AND let me date Ryder? What changed your mind?
Me: Seriously. Go for it. Ryder adores you and I want you to be happy.
As for changing my mind, I just came to my senses. She and I are too different, not my type.
Brynn: Thank you.
Me: No problem. It was shitty of me to suggest playing games with people’s emotions in the first place. Night.
THE NEXT MORNING, I trudge downstairs, planning to grab something quick for breakfast and head back to my own apartment. What I get, however, is a chorus of “good mornings” and a table obviously set for one big ole ‘everybody join in’ brunch.
Just fucking awesome. I can hardly wait.
I avoid direct eye contact with Bellamy, but my eyes can’t avoid the rest of her. I’m only human and she’s wearing “too tiny not to notice” shorts and a tank top that barely holds in her tits. Guess a damn snowsuit or one of those moo-moo dresses must be too much to ask for.
I don’t look at my baby sister either. I’m ashamed that I actually issued an ultimatum on her innocent happiness to pursue my lecherous own.
And I don’t have to be told to help carry the rest of the food to the table, a welcomed distraction, then thank Helen, my dad’s housekeeper since before he even met my mom, now our cook only. Mom refused to let another person, especially a woman, nanny her children or clean her house, but even she couldn’t resist keeping Helen’s cooking around.
“Lunch and dinner are covered in the fridge, heating directions written on them.” Helen puts away her apron and grabs her purse. “See you tomorrow.”
Everyone thanks her and takes a seat.
My father speaks first from the head of the table. “Did you kids have fun last night? Brynny, were you pleased with your party?”
“Yes, very. Thank you,” she smiles at him, “both,” she gives my mom a smile too.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. We’re so proud of you,” my mom beams. “Bellamy, what’d you think? I know we can be a little much, especially all at once, but I do hope you enjoyed yourself.”