by Piper Rayne
It’s not soft, not gentle, but the force of it is still giving. He holds me to him like he's afraid that I might run away. So I lean my head back, letting it rest on his shoulder, and his hand still clings to my throat.
Colton pulls himself almost all of the way out of me before slamming back in. He moves slowly but with a jagged roughness I never knew I craved.
And soon I’m moving opposite of him, pushing myself backward as he moves forward. Having him as deep inside of me as either of us can stand. Even though we couldn’t be closer, I’d welcome it if we could.
My breathing starts to catch, not even heard above the constant hum of the water. But the change is there. Colton groans, moaning, in my ear. I think I might be doing the same, but I'm not really sure. I don't have the space in my head to pay attention to anything other than my nerve endings. All of which are alight at the same time right now.
The forearm across my ribs and the fingers starting to dig into my shoulder where they’ve moved, the size of Colton as he fills me up, it all comes together, overwhelming me.
In the next few thrusts, I come undone.
And I have no idea what comes out of my mouth as I find my release, coming harder that I have in a long time. Maybe than ever before.
“Oh, Ev,” I hear from Colton as he slams into me a couple more times before finishing too.
And then he slumps against my back, letting me hold him up this time.
“I guess I could stand that for future showers, and take a bubble baths alone instead,” I say, a giggle in my voice at the end.
16
Today the sand is staying out of my asscrack, and all other cracks, which is so appreciated.
The breeze is beautiful.
The sun is making me all warm and tingly.
What a fan-freaking-tastic feeling.
“Let’s play a game,” I say to everyone.
There’s a collective groan—some from hangovers, some from killjoys. I expected it, so it won’t let it bring me down.
“Listen, I know some of us had a long night,” I say, making sure not to look at Colton at all. The others think we left early and got some sleep. “And some of y’all are getting too old to hold your liquor,” I add.
To that Claire throws a handful of sand at my face.
Luckily, she has terrible aim. Because that one would have brought me down some. Or up—as in mad. I don’t know, whichever.
“But we can’t just sit here. We are in paradise, and if we just lie here all day feeling sorry for ourselves, we’ll regret it. And I’ll never let any of you hear the end of it either,” I say.
Despite a little more grumbling, nearly everyone stands up.
Thank fuck. Because I was about to lose my mind. I don’t care how gorgeous the sun and the air and the waves are, they aren’t enough to cure whatever’s making me so antsy. I don’t know if it’s anxiousness exactly, but something’s got my bikini in a bind, and I just want to move, to be doing something that takes up more brainpower than just lying here.
And they all turned me down for a hike a while ago.
“Nothing too sporty, though,” Charli says. “I can’t with coordination today.”
“You can’t any day,” Claire says to her with an elbow to Charli’s side for emphasis.
“Oh, shut up, you,” Charli says. Then she turns to say something to Ray, but she has to look down since he’s the one who didn’t get up.
“No thanks,” Ray says before Charli has a chance to ask anything.
It’s none of my fucking business, but I still want to say something. He’s such a fucking party pooper—which I normally wouldn’t mind, and would even understand, but it clearly bothers Charli. And he does it in such a snotty way. Which is probably why it bothers her so much. Fair.
“Your loss,” Charli says, surprising the shit out of me.
Then she tosses her hair over her shoulder as she turns back to the group.
I catch my jaw, stopping it just before it drops. But I’m not the only one struggling to keep a neutral face. Ray clearly thought his girlfriend would put up a fight, or even stay with him.
But no such luck.
“Would you rather have Charli’s sass, or Ev’s ass?” Colton asks as the five of us start walking toward the outdoor games. And he smacks my butt as he asks it, accentuating his point.
Charli is the first one to start laughing, and it’s nearly impossible not to hug Colton for cheering her up, even if she didn’t know she needed it. But after the spanking, I resist something more and fake a glare at him instead.
“How about badminton?” Charli asks as we walk past the busy volleyball nets and then a bunch of preteens playing frisbee.
“Hell yeah,” Tom shouts louder than I expect, making me jump. “Most of you don’t know this—but I kill it at badminton,” he says.
“You literally just made that up.” Claire laughs and shakes her head.
“How the heck would you even know?” Tom retorts as he stoops to pick up rackets for everyone. “You don’t know me. You don’t know my life.”
“Boy, you better be thanking your lucky starts for that, because if you give too much away, your life might just get a lot less fun,” Claire says as she swings her racket in his direction.
I love them. They’re who I want to be when I grow up.
But when I look over and see Colton watching them too, with a goofy grin—something that I imagine mine looks like—my stomach clenches a little.
“You’d never make it without me, baby,” Claire adds before kissing Tom’s cheek and then skipping over to the opposite side of the net.
I follow her to the other side as soon as Tom gives me my racket.
“Girls against boys,” Charli says as she comes to join us.
“We are going to own you,” I say, swinging my hips with the words.
“Want to make it interesting?” Colton knows me too damn well. And while that’s not quite pushing my buttons, it is a challenge he knows I can’t say no to.
“Name it,” I say, wishing I could lift just one eyebrow at a time. Except when I try, both go up, and I just look surprised. And that’s not really what I’m going for at the moment. So instead, I just stare at him, trying not to let a smile break free.
“Winners get to pick what we do tonight,” he answers.
I nod, though, it wasn’t what I expected.
“Let’s get to it,” Charli says, jumping up and down. I don’t know what lit a fire under her ass today, but I like the confidence. It’s hard not to hug her, tell her to keep it up always.
Tom tosses up the birdie and then smacks it over to our side in answer. We get a really good volley going for a while—us ladies playing together well as we call out who has it.
I am clearly the worst player in the whole game, and that’s not something I’m used to. So I try harder, hoping that sheer will and effort will make up for whatever technique I’m lacking.
It does not.
And there’s a point when I faceplant, tripping over my feet and landing head first.
This is not what I had in mind.
“If a single one of you laughs, I will cut you all,” I say once my mouth is clear of sand.
Claire helps me up, and we all pretend it never happened. But when I look to Colton, it looks like he may have an aneurism from holding in his laughter.
“Shut up,” I hiss at him. It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t made a sound. “Just shut up. I hear you thinking, so shut that up too.”
Then we all bust out laughing at the same time, and it actually makes me feel better. Brushing sand off my boobs and my crotch—oh my god, this sand is going to be hell to get off—I move out of the way, and to the back of our side.
“Charli, it’s your serve,” I say after Claire picks up the birdie.
Charli bounces on her toes a few times, then cracks her neck to warm up. It’s absolutely adorable, and I think again how Ray should be over here. Or maybe that he doesn’t deserve her. N
ot that I’ll say that unless she asks me.
She winds up and smacks the little thing as hard as she can, and it skims the top of the net. It’s a hard hit, heading straight for…
The birdie smacks Colton right in the face. Hard as hell.
Actually, it hits him in the eye, and he doubles over immediately.
“Shit,” Charli shrieks, running under the net to get to him first.
“I’ll live,” Colton says before she even gets there, before I even have a chance to ask if he’s okay.
He chuckles, but he still hasn’t moved his hand from the eye to show us yet.
“I’m so sorry. Fuck, Colt. I’m sorry,” Charli says like she’s pleading with him.
“Nothing to be sorry for. You’re a badass.” Colton smiles then forces Charli to give him a high five, with the hand that was over his eye. When he moves it, there’s already a bruise starting. “But I think I’m going to sit down for a little bit. Tom you’re gonna have to pick up the slack.”
“Boy, I’ll win with or without you,” Tom says. His eyes are wide, and his head is moving side to side. Clearly he’s all talk. But I love it.
Colton walks over to the side, out of the way of any other birdies hopefully, and plops down in the sand. Taking a while to situate himself, he doesn’t see me watching for a while. But when I do catch his eye, I lift my eyebrows and mouth, “You okay?”
He nods, winking.
And then we’re playing again.
If I thought I was bad before, I had no idea how low I could sink. Colton’s distracting on the sidelines. But it’s not because he’s shouting lewd comments, trying to play a round of “would you rather,” or throwing sand—you know, the things I’d expect from him. Instead he’s completely ignoring the game, and me, as someone comes up to him.
Someone with gorgeous hair, curled perfectly and down to her ass, and in full make up. Making me feel like a troll who just crawled out of the cave to play a game of badminton that I can’t seem to get right.
She sits down next to him, chatting him up. And dude doesn’t send her away right away. Well, I guess that could look suspicious. So maybe I don’t even know what I want.
All I know is that I don’t like the feeling twisting in my chest, making its way down to my guts, when Colton smiles at her after she says something and lightly touches his arm.
After she leaves, it’s easier to focus, to shoot for the fifty percent I’d been playing at earlier. Half the time I’m going to swing and miss no matter what.
But just when I’m starting to calm down, another gorgeous chick sits next to Colton to talk to him.
And am I losing my mind? Is there a freaking model conference on the island? Is everyone drinking something different from me that’s making them way bolder than normal?
Or am I just being a crazy, jealous bitch?
If it’s that, I’ll never admit it.
Trying to channel my rage into the game, I use every bit of strength I have, aimed at the little birdie, and swing with my whole body to send it over to Tom.
Only it goes exactly nothing like I’d planned.
In fact, you could say it goes horribly wrong, awry, and any other synonym for fucked-up that you can think of. Because I miss the birdie entirely, and not only that but my racket smacks into the net and somehow gets tangled in it.
“Welp,” Claire says. “I think that might be the game,” she jokes.
“Call it a tie?” Tom asks, oh-so generously.
But I still feel like an idiot. Not only do I not like losing, but there’s a possibility that I may have let my anger get the best of me. Just a little bit.
Or a lot.
“Sorry,” I say to the girls more than anyone. “I sure fucked that up.” That’s harder to admit than it should be, because there’s more tucked inside my words than they can understand.
I look to Colton, and even though he’s alone now, I can’t stop the sinking feeling that’s starting to weigh me down. No one notices, though, as they all drop their rackets and start to separate. Almost everyone heads toward the ocean, ready to cool off after that mess of a game.
But inside, I know I need a minute. Or a lot of minutes.
And some space.
And a fucking drink.
Turning, I head to the bar, so ready for a margarita bigger than my own head. I could pretend that I didn’t time it strategically while Colton was looking toward the water. But that’d be a lie. I snuck away to drink.
And I’m perfectly okay with that. Even if I shouldn’t be.
Moving fast, I get there before anyone notices I’ve left, I think.
“The biggest margarita you’ve got,” I say to the bartender before she even turns around.
I really need to work on my manners.
Tomorrow. I’ll work on that tomorrow.
“Long time, no see,” a deep voice says from my right. And weirdly enough, it sounds familiar. When I turn, he looks familiar too. Though, it takes me a second to place him.
“I don’t think you want to buy this one,” I say to him. But I’m smiling. “It’s a lot bigger than the last one,” I add, clarifying.
“Ah, so it’s one of those days?” he asks me with a twitch to his lips.
“And then some.”
“I’ll have what she’s having—both on me,” he says to the bartender as she hands me my slice of tequila heaven. It’s humongous, the size an actual fishbowl. And finally my smile is genuine, easy.
“Thank you,” I say, reaching over to touch his hand. And I try not to notice the lack of sparks, or warmth, that I’ve gotten used to from someone else. “I’m Emma.”
“Henry,” he says as he flips his hand over so we’re palm to palm. Then he squeezes just a little before letting me go.
“It’s nice to meet you, Henry,” I say. And I know there are ulterior motives. I know I’m still irritated and being weird about watching Colton schmooze those cuties before. But I don’t let that stop me. I bat my eyelashes and lean toward him.
Wearing a bikini makes it easy to play up the cleavage. And boy, do I.
I even pretend not to notice when he stares right at them for way too long.
“So Emma, how’s your guy doing after being beaten up by a girl?” Henry asks me.
Which, in all honesty, is kind of weird. Clearly he’s a bit of a creep. Or at the very least, really socially awkward. And now I wish I hadn’t shared my name.
But the realization does something else for me. It reminds me how much easier it would be to break up with someone like this. So much less complicated than losing a friend. A best friend. Someone I never thought I’d have to figure out how to live without.
“He’s not my guy,” I say, even though I shouldn’t
“Well, that’s interesting,” Henry says as he moves his new drink to the other side, so that it’s not between us.
I know what he wants before he even makes another move. And as he licks his lips, most of me is thinking…why not? So I lean forward too, getting closer to this stranger. This uncomplicated stranger.
Off we go.
“Hey, Ev. I need to talk to you,” Colton says from behind me.
I can feel his resistance, and I’m not sure if he’s trying not to put his hand on my arm to pull me toward him or if he’s struggling to keep his fist out of Henry’s face.
“Can it wait a minute?” I ask him without turning.
“Not really.” And the strain in Colton’s voice is raspier. It snaps me out of whatever kind of fog I was letting myself fall into.
“Well, it was nice to meet you,” I say to Henry. “And thank you for the drink. Again,” I add as I stand and move from the bar.
Colton takes a few steps away, out of ear shot, before he wraps his arm around my waist. When he’s touching me, I can feel some of his tension melting away. But it’s not totally gone.
“Who was that?” He gives himself away, however unintentionally. I can tell he’s going for nonchalant, but I know him too we
ll. His eyes flick away, and that’s all the tell I need.
“No one. Like the no ones you were chatting up earlier,” I say.
I regret it immediately, because now we’ve both showed our hands. And neither are very flattering. Still, I try to shake it off.
“What’s up?” I ask, shooting for a new start to the conversation.
“I was thinking we could sneak away for a couple minutes,” he says, with a crooked smile.
“And do what?” I ask, making him work for it. Then I take a long sip from my drink. The drink that someone else bought for me.
Green isn’t my best color, but I’ll work it if I have to.
“Well, I was hoping to get my tongue between your lips. And not necessarily these ones,” Colton says as he brushes some salt from my margarita on my mouth.
I lean into the soft touch, on the verge of agreeing. Because that sounds pretty wonderful, and a way to make up for how the last while has gone.
“That is, if you aren’t too busy. But if you prefer another free drink, I won’t stop you,” he tries to make a joke.
A passive-aggressive joke if I’ve ever heard one.
A passive-aggressive joke that falls flat, with a fucking thud.
“You know what. I think I will do that instead. That way you can go back to your groupies,” I say. Then I chug some of my blended drink, knowing it’s going to give me a brain freeze. But it’s worth it to see the look on his face. Pure shock.
Like he had no idea I could tell he was jealous.
Like he wasn’t trying to make me jealous too.
“It’s totally fine. We can meet up later,” I add, this time with a smile. Sounding bubbly, almost fooling myself too. “We’re both adults. And we don’t have to spend every moment together. You do you, and I’ll do me. And I’ll see you later.
Then I lean forward and kiss the corner of his mouth, letting my lips linger on his before I back away to give myself room to down the entire rest of my drink.
He can think I don’t care what he does. And he can pretend he wasn’t feeling possessive. I don’t care if we’re both full of shit. I’m not backing down.
