CHAPTER 4
KATIE
“This hot tub is phenomenal,” Whitney said.
“You got yourself backed up to some jets, don’t ya?” Lizzie asked. “If you turn ‘round, it’ll really feel good.”
“Seriously, Lizzie?” I asked. “Masturbating with the jets in a hot tub?”
“Wait, who in the world said anything about masturbating?” Whitney asked.
“You never done it? Girl, y’all missin’ out. Here, I’ll show you how—”
“Noo!” Whitney and I said in unison.
“Fine. But y’all two are the ones who’re too wound up. Maybe y’all could use some relaxation,” Lizzie said.
“Which is what I’m getting with having my back massaged with these jets,” I said.
“Okay, can I just say something?” Whitney asked.
“You ready to try my idea?” Lizzie asked.
“Never. But Katie, I’m so glad you didn’t marry that douchebag,” Whitney said.
“That, too. The way you handed it to him in front of that crowd last night was awesome. Girl, I was so proud I was cryin’,” Lizzie said.
“You don’t cry, but thanks for the sentiment,” I said.
“Now, you can let your heart heal and get on with your life,” Whitney said. “Are you going to stay here? Or come back to New York?”
“I think I’m going to stay here. I mean, I took the bar exam here, and my family’s here. I don’t see myself going back to the city.”
“You were all about that city life in high school,” Lizzie said. “Not what it’s cracked up to be?”
“More along the lines of I’ve got too many memories there with Michael, and I’m not sure if I could heal going back to New York,” I said.
“Well, if you ever want to come visit, you know you’re always welcome to stay with me,” Whitney said.
“I’m gonna miss you, and the same applies. Once I can get on my knees and beg my landlord for my apartment back, you’ll have a place to crash, too,” I said.
“Or you could get on your knees and—”
“Lizzie. Seriously?” Whitney asked. “The last thing Katie needs to be doing right now is getting on her knees for any man. If anything, they need to drop to their knees and show her why they deserve to stay.”
“Oh, shit! Some freak action goin’ on over here. Who knew little Whit-Whit liked her some oral?” Lizzie asked.
“Or I could simply take the time to heal and move on before jumping into anything else. You know, what regular people do?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I saw you getting close to those two brothers this morning,” Whitney said.
“Caleb and Dylan? Hardly. I’ve known them ever since I was a little girl. I had my childhood crushes but that was years ago. We all grew up,” I said.
“Yep. They were there through everythin’. Her daddy runnin’ out. High school. Her eighteenth birthday,” Lizzie said.
“Shut up,” I said.
“What happened on her eighteenth birthday?” Whitney asked.
“Her and Dylan sucked face, that’s what happened,” Lizzie said.
“Oh, was that the one in the navy blue bespoke suit?” Whitney asked.
“The fuck is a ‘bee-spoked’ suit?” Lizzie asked.
“A ‘bespoke suit’ is a suit that is made from scratch and tailored to the body of the person purchasing it,” I said. “And yes, Dylan’s the one in the navy suit.”
“You know what I think of that? I think gettin’ over someone requires you gettin’ under someone else,” Lizzie said.
“You would think that,” I said. “And at any rate, they are my brother’s friends as well as mine. Hunter would have my head on a platter if I stepped anywhere near them in that manner.”
“You know as well as I do that them country boys like ruinin’ the innocent girl-next-door. I’d take advantage of it. I bet Michael couldn’t fuck you like Dylan or Caleb could,” Lizzie said.
“I don’t want ‘Michael’ and ‘fuck’ to ever be in the same sentence ever again,” I said.
“What about, ‘Michael is the fucking pits’?” Whitney asked.
“Or, ‘Michael can fucking suck a dick’?” Lizzie asked.
“Or, ‘Michael can drive off a fucking cliff and die in a fucking pit of flames’?” Whitney asked.
“Okay, okay. I get it. You guys hate him. I’m not marrying him so we can get off it, right?” I asked.
“Just makin’ sure all them phrases was good,” Lizzie said.
We laughed as the hot water around us relaxed our bodies. I sank down to my chin, allowing the wine we had shared earlier to permeate throughout my body. I still missed my beer, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to drink it as of yet. It had tasted so good going down that afternoon that I was afraid I would lose myself again.
Lose myself to the drinking I once did in college, and unleash a side of me I’ve locked up for so many years.
Suddenly, a door opened. I turned my head toward the sound and saw the brothers walking out of the changing room. They were clad in bathing suits, their muscles chiseled and flexing as they walked toward the hot tub. They all looked at me as they made their way for us, their legs flexing with strength and their arms pulsing with protruding veins.
Wyatt was first in line and I couldn’t help but stare. He was the shortest of the brothers, though still being over six feet didn’t exactly qualify for “short.” His shoulders were incredibly broad and his well-muscled chest tapered off in a delicious V that pointed toward the goods he packed in his swim trunks.
Caleb and Andrew followed side-by-side. They each stood around six three and boasted well-defined pecs. Though not as broad of shoulder as Wyatt, they were still big boys, with well-muscled arms and thick thighs that had me drooling.
Bringing up the rear was Dylan. His eyes and hair were the darkest of all of them, and the silver threaded through his temples showed that he was the oldest. He was also the tallest, standing damn near six foot six. He was more slender than his brothers but could still lift a fifty pound bag of feed just as easily as the next guy.
Haveeee mercy…
Oh, my gosh. They were going to get in with us.
“Mhm. Mhm. Mhmmmm. Aren’t you all lookin mighty fine today,” Lizzie said. “Got a question for ya.”
“Lizzie. Stop it,” Whitney said.
“I’m just wonderin’ if it’s against resort policy to drink in the hot tub, y’all. I wanna get us another bottle of wine. So is it?” Lizzie asked with a giggle.
“Usually, it is,” Dylan said as he got in. “But since there isn’t anyone here but us, and the three of you, I’d say go for it.”
“Wait. He’s serious?” Lizzie asked.
“I think he is,” I said with a grin.
“Just grab us some beers if you gonna get out,” Andrew said.
“A few, actually. Beers in the hot tub sounds nice,” Caleb said.
“Sounds like the good ol’ days,” Wyatt said.
“I don’t know what kinda ‘good ol’ days’ ya’ll had, but I didn’t have none of them days. So, bottle of wine and a shit-ton of beers. Got it,” Lizzie said.
“Can you make it a bottle of white wine?” Whitney asked.
“Wasn’t gonna bring that red shit that Katie chokes down,” Lizzie said. “Shit sucks.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind having a beer or two,” I said.
The tub fell silent as everyone turned their eyes toward me. Grins popped up on all the brothers’ faces as Whitney stared at me with her eyebrows hiked up on her head.
Lizzie threw her fist in the air as she scurried off, her feet carrying her fast for the bar across the hallway.
“Are you going to be okay?” Whitney asked.
“Yeah. One or two won’t hurt anything,” I said.
“Glad to see you settlin’ back into things,” Caleb said.
“How’re you feelin’?” Andrew asked.
“Better. Relaxed. This hot tub is wonderful. Do all of the resorts have one?” I asked.
“They do. A couple have multiple ones,” Dylan said. “Speaking of— Caleb? I just thought of a feature that could go in the South Carolina build.”
“We really talkin’ shop right now?” Caleb asked.
“Private hot tubs on the balconies for the suites,” Dylan said.
“Oh, shit. Good idea. I’ll log it away before the beer gets here,” Caleb said.
“New rule. When in a hot tub with hot women, stop fuckin’ talkin’ bout work,” Wyatt said.
“Language. After all, you did say that we were in the presence of beautiful women,” Dylan said, with a mischievous grin.
“Oh, he’s a charmer,” Whitney said.
“Women such as yourselves deserve nothing less,” Dylan said.
But even though he was speaking to Whitney, his eyes were hooked onto me.
Lizzie came back with a cooler full of all the drinks we specified. The beer loosened up my body as well as my tongue, and soon the guys and I were talking as if nothing had changed. It brought back a lot of memories. I quickly found why I had fantasized about them all the time as a teenager. Why I was always masturbating to them and wishing they would kiss me. They were true gentleman with just a spark of wolfish nature. Not enough to make them seem like dogs, but enough to make you know you were wanted. I threw back my first beer without a second thought and was sipping on my second one as a flushed feeling of euphoria tumbled over my body.
The bubbles were popping against my skin, and the water felt like it was getting hotter.
I was relaxed. Loose. Unaware of worries that still plagued my subconscious mind.
It almost made me wonder what would’ve happened had I stayed, found a law school in the state and stuck by their sides. Would one of them have taken me in? Would I have ended up as part of the O’Conner clan? I never would’ve met Michael, and that would’ve been a good thing. But would I have ended up with one of them?
The thought ran through my mind all night as our party grew loud.
“You look wonderful in that suit,” Caleb said quietly.
“You haven’t seen me in it,” I said with a giggle.
“I have. You got out to go to the bathroom, and I couldn't take my eyes off you.”
“Now you know how I felt on all those fishing trips we took,” I said.
His eyes darkened as I clamped my mouth shut. What in the world had I admitted to?
“Katie? Want another beer?” Andrew asked.
“Nope. Two’s my limit now,” I said.
“This mornin’, you didn’t drink beer,” Andrew said. “You sure you don’t want another?”
“I’m sure. Have to keep myself under control,” I said.
“You know we got your back, right?” Andrew asked. “If you get rowdy, we got ya.”
“Doesn’t mean I should be,” I said. “But thank you. That means a lot.”
“You’re important. You should know someone’s lookin’ out for you.”
The comments kept coming all night long. Flirting and bantering. Drinking and laughing. It was more fun than I’d had in years, and it came as no shock to me that the brothers would be at the center of it all. Things felt natural with them. Fluid and familiar. I found myself floating around to each of them, feeling their hands somewhere along my body before I floated over to another. It was the first time I’d felt any other man’s hands on my body but Michael’s, and I found myself enjoying their attention and their light touches and the caresses of their fingertips.
But I could tell Whitney wasn’t happy one bit.
And I knew I’d hear about it in the morning.