I climb into his lap, straddling him. Graham stiffens. The fury on his face is still there, but there’s enough confusion to muddy it up. He’s not sure what I’m doing.
Neither am I.
I take his face in my hands, expecting him to fight me. He doesn’t resist but the hurt in his eyes is enough to have me treading lightly. This pain is all me, I can’t blame it on anyone else, and in this moment I want it to go away more than I want to protect myself.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Graham shakes his head, trying to pull away from me.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I tell him again and I mean it. I’m sorry for everything, for making him feel this way, for starting this in the first place, for not being strong enough to let him go. For being so scared that I can’t let him love me. “You deserve someone who doesn’t make you feel like this. You deserve someone who can be what you need.”
“No,” Graham says, finally pulling his face from my hands. “You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to decide for me.”
I rest my hands on his chest as it rises and falls. We sit there staring at each other, unsure what to do. He shifts underneath me and my knees dig into the fabric of the couch. His hands slide to my hips and he holds me there, still breathing like he’s run a marathon.
“I get to decide what I want,” Graham whispers. It’s more forceful than I expect, possessive, and when one of his hands moves up to cup the back of my head, I know I welcome what’s coming next.
Graham presses his forehead to mine, breathing still ragged, and closes his eyes. He slides his nose against mine but still doesn’t kiss me. I whimper, and the side of his mouth twitches. I feel him growing hard underneath me, the fabric of his athletic shorts and the thin cotton of my pajama bottoms barely separating us. I angle my mouth toward his, but Graham avoids me, dragging his lips along my jaw line and then down the column of my neck. He nips and sucks there, holding my head in place with one hand and using the other to force my hips down against him.
I grind against him, panting, as he reaches for the hem of my T-shirt and pulls it over my head. He pops a nipple into his mouth, dragging his teeth along the nub, and I arch my back to get closer to him, pulling at the short hairs on the back of his neck. When I move to get his shirt off he bats my hand away, a muffled “nu huh” escaping from his lips as he trails his tongue over to my other breast. He lets me wiggle my fingers under the cotton but makes no move to pull the fabric over his head.
Graham’s hand darting down the front of my pants surprises me. He barely grazes the skin and I’m writhing around looking for relief. Normally Graham would laugh at this, tease me for being so eager, but tonight he’s not joking. The anger from earlier’s just below the surface as he pulls his fingers through my wetness, working me into a quivering pile of nerves. He raises up just enough to slide his shorts down over his hips before he forces my pants down over the back of my ass. They stick around the tops of my thighs, keeping me from opening my legs any farther. He pulls his head back to look me in the eye before I feel him position himself at my opening and drive himself in.
The sudden thrust has me gasping, but Graham’s eyes never leave my face. My bare chest slides against his still covered one as he uses his hands on my hips to control the tempo. He takes his hands off me only to rip his shirt off and throw it into the darkness of the living room. Again I tilt my face toward his to kiss him, but he turns away, frustrating me.
“It sucks not to get to make the decision for yourself, doesn’t it?” he asks me as he lifts his hips again and again. When he finally turns his face toward me and slams his lips against mine there’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses me. I answer back with the same intensity and ride him like it would kill me to stop. We’re frantic, rocking against each other, unable to get close enough. He presses me hard to his chest, his fingers digging into my back. We’re fused together as tightly as possible, every movement making me more and more certain that Graham’s body fits mine like no one else’s ever will.
We finish like animals, biting and clawing at each other, crying out loud enough for the neighbors to hear. I wrap my arms around Graham’s sweaty torso and try to catch my breath with my head on his shoulder. He breathes into my ear, as affected as I am.
“What do we do now?” he asks me and already I can hear the hesitation in his voice.
“We try to make it through this wedding.” I don’t lift my head. I don’t want to see his reaction to my non-answer.
Graham lifts me off his lap and sets me down next to him. Without a word he stands, pulls his shorts back up over his hips, and walks to his bedroom.
“You do know that once this wedding’s over you’re going to have to come up with a new excuse to push me away.”
He slams the door behind him and leaves me half-naked on the couch.
28
Graham
I’m sitting in the living room staring at the floor between my feet. I’ve been waiting out here for what feels like forever, hearing Cassie getting ready in her room across the hall. I’ve thought about knocking at least a million times, but every time I manage to convince myself to move closer to her door, I lose my nerve. What if she answered the door in her underwear or wrapped in a towel? As it is I can barely keep myself from pawing all over her. She came back from having her hair and make-up done with Julia and immediately locked herself in her bedroom. The sound of the bolt turning gave me a clear signal that she doesn’t want to be bothered, but now we’re running late. The wedding party is supposed to be on the beach for photos at three and it’s nearly ten till now. If I don’t get Cassie out the door in the next two minutes we’ll be holding everything up and I don’t want to be accused of doing anything to ruin Julia’s wedding. After last night I’m dangerously close to doing something that’s sure to make things less than perfect on Julia’s perfect day. A day that I’d always hoped would include me meeting her at the altar although for the life of me I can’t remember why.
I pull myself up and out of the chair, dragging my feet all the way to her bedroom door. I can already smell her spicy perfume; the whole villa is starting to smell like her and I know when she opens the door, I’ll get a cloud of Cassie right in the face. I take a deep breath and let my knuckles hit the door. One, two, three taps. I wait, hearing her scurrying around on the other side.
“Just a second!” Cassie calls out. She curses softly as I stand rooted to the spot. I imagine her naked on the other side, imagine her waiting for me instead of avoiding me. When the door flies open she’s surprised to see me still standing there, closer to the door than any normal person should be, my hand still resting in the spot where my knuckles landed.
“Uh.” I sound like an idiot but it’s all I can get to come out of my mouth. Cassie’s standing in front of me in a bright purple dress, her legs on full display. The dress hugs her curves and highlights the freckles on her shoulders, now even more noticeable with a hint of suntan. My eyes follow the tiny straps down to the deep V that’s barely containing her breasts. Cassie clears her throat and I will my eyes back up to her face. “You look…”
“Crazy, I know. The flower in the hair is too much, but Julia’s making us all wear one. I told her it looked ridiculous but she’s the boss today, I guess.”
I try to interrupt, but I’m so distracted by Cassie’s mouth that I have a hard time formulating a reasonable thought. Other parts of me are starting to have a hard time as well and I hope Cassie doesn’t notice the growing bulge in the front of my pants.
“And I’m regretting the dress. We’re all in purple, but I think maybe I should have chosen something more conservative. Zach’s sisters chose more, I don’t know, they’re showing less skin. Now I look—”
“Beautiful. I was going to say you look beautiful.”
She freezes. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Cassie it’s that if you give her a chance, she’ll always find a way to disparage her looks. But she’s beautiful. All the
time, but especially right now with the sun coming in through the bedroom window and her cheeks flushed from my compliment. I reach my hand out and trace the line of her jaw. She stays still, hands at her sides. I slide my thumb over her lips, careful not to smudge her lipstick. I’d like to be able to get her messy, but I know there’s no time for that even if she’d let me. She parts her lips and I let my thumb rest there for a split second, our gazes locked. “You look perfect.”
Cassie blinks, breaking the spell. She takes a step back and lets out a ragged breath. “We’re going to be late,” she says, eyeing me like a rabbit about to run.
“Yeah, we should get going so we don’t mess up the photo schedule,” I agree. “Are you ready?”
Cassie closes her eyes. “I need you to zip me,” she tells me, her voice barely a whisper, and when she turns around, I can see an open expanse of her creamy skin between the teeth of the zipper. “I can’t reach all the way to the top and I can’t get the hook by myself.”
I step closer to her and she flinches before I even touch her. “Relax,” I murmur even as my own heart starts beating wildly in my chest. I reach for the zipper and let my fingers linger on her back. Her skin is soft and warm just the way I knew it would be, just the way it always is. I fight the instinct to move the zipper south and let my fingertips graze her back as I watch the metal teeth close against her. Once I get to the top it takes me a minute to successfully close the tiny hook, my fingers too big to handle the little pieces with much skill. I let my eyes wander down her back to the outline of her ass and I wonder what she’d do if I pressed myself up against her. My cock responds to the thought of Cassie warm and willing, and I have to remind myself that now isn’t the time or the place to push my luck. I lean forward and plant a kiss on her shoulder, feeling her twitch at the unexpected contact. Cassie waits, barely breathing until I finally finish and remove my hands from her back.
“Cassie…” My hands itch to be back on her skin, and I flex them open and closed at my sides.
When she turns her eyes are wide. “You can’t do that,” she tells me, her voice hard and serious. “Not today.”
“Sorry,” I apologize even though we both know I don’t mean it.
“Let’s just get through this, okay?” She’s pleading with me. Begging me not to let everyone in on our secret. Sassy Cassie’s terrified of me blowing our cover with my roaming hands. But more than that she’s just plain terrified, afraid of whatever’s keeping her from letting herself be with me. “Today’s supposed to be about Julia and Zach; I don’t want this stuff with us to interfere with that.”
“Okay.” It comes out flat. “So that’s the angle now? That we don’t want to ruin their day?” I sigh. Cassie’s got a new excuse. “We should go.”
Cassie nods and moves to grab her bag, a tiny little thing that can’t have room for much more than our villa key.
“Why do you need a bag?” I ask her. “I’ve got a key in my pocket. You don’t want to keep up with that all night.” I don’t know why I’m discussing her purse with her, acting like we’re a couple. She can do what she likes, obviously.
“There’s lipstick in here too.” She opens the bag to let me see inside. “I’ll need that, especially for the pictures.”
I reach out my hand. “Give it to me. I can put it in my pocket.” Cassie stares at my outstretched hand but then slides the tube of lipstick in it. I don’t know why I’m asking for it or why she’s giving it. Now she’ll have to find me all night when she wants to touch up her make-up. She’ll have to find me when she wants to come home.
“You look nice.” Cassie reaches out to straighten my jacket. I’m not wearing a tie and she lets her pinky finger skim the open edge of my shirt collar. “I like these suits for a beach wedding.”
I grunt. “Kind of ridiculous to have to wear a suit but then take off our shoes.” The spot where Cassie’s finger touched me burns.
Cassie smiles. “We can’t stand in our shoes in the sand.”
I shrug. “Let’s go, gorgeous.” I hold out my hand to her. Cassie frowns down at it until I clench my fingers into a fist and shove it into my pocket. Her lipstick rolls around between my fingers. “Fine. After you.” I gesture toward the front door and she moves toward it giving me a view of her swaying hips and her muscular calves. I follow after her, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Getting ready to spend all day not being able to touch her the way I want to, trying not to look at her that way. This is going to be torture.
29
Cassie
“How about another one of just Cassie and Graham?”
For a day that’s supposed to be all about Zach and Julia there sure are a lot of photos of the wedding party going on here. I try to send a telepathic signal to the bride that this might be taking things a little too far, but Julia doesn’t get the message. She stands behind the photographer, backseat driving his attempts to do his job. So far she’s criticized the lighting, his choice of lens, and the fact that his camera’s a Nikon. She prefers Cannon. You would think it was a divide that would rival the East coast versus West coast rap feud from the way she keeps bringing it up. Julia should be taking her own photos if she’s going to micromanage him. I’m sure having to be the photographer at another photographer’s wedding is one of the circles of hell.
All this posing with Graham is pretty hellish as well, truth be told. After last night we’re even less sure how to act. He’s apologized for every single accidental touch and twice for looking at me, so standing impossibly close and pretending to smile over and over again is uncomfortable for both of us.
“How about this one with the beach in the background?” Julia confers with the photographer again and while they argue about specifics, I try to work some of the kinks out of my neck. I barely slept at all last night and had to be up early for wedding stuff with Julia. Not even the sound of the waves outside could drown out the angry silence of having Graham fuming one room away. At least he’s speaking to me this morning even if it is somewhat monosyllabic.
“Your neck hurt?” he asks without looking at me.
“A little.”
“Did you sleep on it funny?” He keeps his eyes trained on the surf.
“Maybe. I didn’t get much sleep.”
At that Graham turns his head, a flash of anger passing over his face before he goes back to calm and collected neutral. “Sorry to hear that.”
I almost expect him to offer to rub my neck for me as inappropriate as that would be. I close my eyes and imagine his strong hand on the back of my neck, long fingers working out the knots there. But Graham’s hands stay at his sides until he crosses his arms over his chest, huffing a little in impatience.
“I fucking hate this,” he says under his breath just as Julia comes walking back to us. It would be easy to interpret that to mean seeing her in her wedding dress or any other thing about having his ex get married off again, but for once I know that’s not what he’s talking about. The jealous part of me would love to believe that he’s still wanting Julia, then I could be angry or sad and blame Graham for the way things are right now. But he’s not even looking at her, he’s still focused on the water, the muscles in his jaw ticking away.
I fucking hate this, too.
“Okay, guys, move over here,” Julia orders and I groan like I’m in kindergarten and about to throw myself on the floor for a tantrum.
“Haven’t we done enough of these already?” I whine.
“Last one, I promise,” Julia tells me unconvincingly and starts to set us up like Graham’s my prom date.
“You have to get closer to her,” the photographer yells. “Come on, she won’t bite.”
The strangled sound that comes out of Graham’s mouth keeps me from looking at his face. I do bite and he knows it. In fact, under his shirt right now are several marks that might prove it. My face flames as he goes into a coughing fit.
“Do you need water?” Julia asks as Graham bends at the waist and catches his breath.
He waves her off. “I’m fine. Just got a little choked up, I guess.” He straightens back up and wipes the tears from his eyes, muttering, “Doesn’t bite, my ass” under his breath.
“I’ve never bitten your ass,” I whisper back at him and he actually almost smiles before he remembers he’s busy hating me today.
“Now put your arm around her.”
Graham’s arm comes woodenly around my waist.
“Not like that,” Julia coaches from behind the photographer. “Like you like each other, not like someone asked you to give your great aunt a kiss on the mouth. Good lord, Graham, this shouldn’t be so difficult.”
Graham moves closer and lets his arm relax. His fingers slide along my hip as he pulls me up beside him. I’m close enough to be able to smell him, if I turn my head my nose’ll be in the crook of his neck.
“Now turn a little toward him, Cass.”
That’s the last thing I want to do.
“And then put one hand on his chest. That looks great.”
Under my palm Graham’s heart beats steady and strong, the warmth of his chest making my fingers relax. I tilt my face up toward his and he grunts down at me, his lips twitching just enough to let me know he’s thinking about kissing me. It would be so easy to lean forward on my tiptoes just enough to put my lips on his. But I won’t, not here. And Graham won’t either, not in front of everyone and not with almost certain photographic evidence. I give him the tiniest smile and he lets the corners of his mouth shoot up just long enough for everyone else to think he returned it. Then we turn our faces toward the camera to endure the longest thirty seconds ever.
When we’re done Graham slides his arm back around, letting his fingers graze the top of my ass. I don’t protest so he slides them down lower until he’s able to give me a squeeze. Then he stalks off without a word.
Forget About It Page 19
