It wanted to use Camila.
With a sigh—he’d already spent enough time under the spray that his brother was going to give him shit when he headed back downstairs—Tommy gave in to temptation and squirted body wash into his hand before grasping his woody, stroking leisurely while he pressed the other palm against the cool tile and closed his eyes.
He really liked the tank and shorts she’d changed into for dinner, but he went with picturing Camila in that damned sexy bikini instead. It worked better with the particular fantasy he was conjuring in his head.
They were alone in the pool, and she swam over to the side and rested her arms on the rounded edge. He moved behind her, crowding her, letting her feel his hardness against her ass.
She didn’t move away. Instead, she spread her legs, inviting him closer. He stood on the ledge that circled the inside of the pool and slid his hands up, digging his fingers under the fabric of her top so that he could cup her breasts. She arched into his touch, and his hand moved faster as he stroked his dick.
Better speed this fantasy along because he wasn’t going to last much longer.
He quickly tugged her bikini bottoms down her legs and shoved his shorts down just enough to expose his rock hard cock. She glanced over her shoulder, giving him a look that screamed, hurry up and fuck me already.
So he grasped her hips and plunged into nirvana. She clung to the side while wrapping her legs around him so that she was almost floating on her stomach as he held on for dear life and hammered into her like it was his first time and he could think of nothing but racing across that finish line.
And then he came, white streamers shooting from his dick and swirling down the drain while he stood there and worked to catch his breath.
Christ, he wanted to do that for real. Except slow it down some, make love to her with a little more finesse.
Once the shaking in his legs subsided, he hurried through the rest of his shower and toweled off, dressed, skipped the shave because what the hell, he was on vacation, and headed downstairs to see what the rest of the family was up to.
Cards, that’s what they were up to.
“About damn time,” Elliot said when Tommy walked into the kitchen. “I don’t even want to know what you were doing up there that took so long.”
Yeah, he probably didn’t.
Everyone else in the house was seated around the high-top table, and Elliot was shuffling cards. “Grab a drink and come join us,” he said.
Camila was seated between his mother and her sister. Damn it. No, wait, that was good. It would keep Mom from making assumptions.
“Anybody else need anything while I’m up?” he asked as he turned toward the liquor cabinet. Dad asked for a beer, so he snagged one from the fridge while filling a copper mug with ice. Camila was still drinking mules, so he was too.
As soon as he sat down, Elliot started dealing cards. “What are we playing?” Tommy asked.
“Up and Down the River.”
He glanced at Camila. “I assume everyone here knows how to play?”
“You assume correctly,” Madison piped up.
Not only did they know how to play, but Camila and Madison smoked everyone in the first game.
“Time to up our game,” Tommy said to Elliot, who nodded as he handed over the deck so Tommy could deal.
The next round went to Camila too, but Tommy managed to push Madison out of second place.
“Competitive much?” Camila asked with a lift of her brows.
“Hell yes. I wouldn’t be one of the top racers in motocross if I let other people win.”
She chuckled. Damn, he liked her laugh. The fantasy he’d conjured up in the shower popped into his head, and he could feel his face heating. Shit. He needed to calm the hell down. Otherwise he was going to have to run upstairs and take another shower, and wouldn’t his brother have a field day with that?
Two games turned into four, followed by a tiebreaker, since Tommy and Camila rotated winning each time.
And no, he did not let her win that final game. Turned out, she was a hell of a card shark. And it didn’t bother him in the least that he’d lost.
It was pushing 2:00 a.m. by the time the rest of the group called it a night. Tommy had hoped Camila might lag behind because he wouldn’t mind taking another stab at talking, maybe trying to be friends.
But she didn’t. In fact, she was one of the first up the stairs after his father declared he was retiring for the night.
Bummer.
Chapter Six
Camila rolled out of bed and padded across the hall to the bathroom, where she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and took care of nature’s call. Then she headed downstairs, conscious of how quiet the house was. As a bartender, it was rare that she woke before everyone else in her vicinity. Although, to be fair, they had stayed up pretty late playing cards last night. And the booze had been flowing the entire time. Deanna and Joe knew how to keep their guests entertained.
As she neared the bottom of the carpeted staircase, she heard noises in the kitchen. Probably Deanna, making breakfast. Hopefully, that involved coffee prep.
She rounded the corner and came to a stuttering halt. It wasn’t Deanna pulling items out of the fridge while consulting a cookbook propped open on the counter, the dog lying on the tiles nearby, head on
