“I’ll see you Thursday,” I call out after him as he hobbles on his crutches out of the room.
“No, you won’t,” he grumbles, probably on his way to call the coach and beg for a different therapist.
Too bad, Reeve.
I was in for the long haul, whether he wanted me here or not.
THREE
I HIDE MY smirk when Reeve hobbles into another one of our sessions on Thursday afternoon, just as I knew he would. I guess his call to the head coach didn’t work because I still had a job, and he was still here.
Deciding not to push my luck with him, I follow the same routine as Tuesday and focus on doing my actual job this time. I try to ignore the way my hands vibrate with electricity just at the feel of his skin beneath mine. His legs are muscular, his thighs large and powerful, and Christ, I’m sweating.
“Beau Crosby. You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”
I freeze with my hand mid-thigh. “What?”
“I talked to Crew last night. Found out you were going on a date with him before he leaves for his next game.”
I clear my throat, dodging his eyes. “He was a gentleman if that’s what you’re asking.”
“He is not a gentleman. He’s a pansy motherfucker, and over my dead body will you date him.”
My brows jump into my hairline. “So, you’re forbidding me now? What gives you any right?”
“He’s a professional athlete, Camila. He’s not looking for a relationship. He’s looking for someone to fuck. That just screams heartbreak for a girl like you.”
As calmly as I can, I place my hands, palm down on the table on either side of him. “A girl like me? You don’t even know me anymore, so how could you possibly know what I’m like? And heartbreak isn’t an option. I’ve learned the hard way that not all guys are douchebags like you. There are decent men out there, and it just so happens that Beau is one of them.”
His lips thin, fire brewing in his eyes. “You don’t even know the half of it, Camila,” he grits out.
I scoff, my nostrils flaring as I work to control my temper. “I know enough.”
“This conversation is over, and so is your relationship with Beau.”
“You know what? This session is over. Fix your damn leg on your own, you bastard,” I spew out in anger and whirl on my heels. I hear movement behind me as I stride away, and I gasp when his warm hand locks on my wrist, tugging me back toward the table.
He’s sitting up now, and we’re mere inches apart. The air shifts in the room, and it suddenly feels stifling in here, like breathing is a chore. My chest rises and falls as we stare at each other. Wills battling wills. I forgot how handsome Reeve is when he isn’t talking or being an asshole. His lips are plump, and I know firsthand just what wonders they can work on my body. A shiver rolls down my spine at the memories that suddenly accost my mind.
I find myself getting lost in his eyes. They’re the very hue of ice caps in the Arctic, rimmed cooly with a cornflower blue. The lightness there, the soft flecks remind me of summertime as kids. The way sunrays warmed our skin and glinted off our eyes as we sat outside with each other, basking in the warm glow.
“Don’t go.”
I look down at his hand still clamped around my wrist, and his grip eases, though he does it slowly. I can’t tell if it’s my imagination or wishful thinking, but he seems hesitant to let go. To sever the connection we haven’t shared in years.
“Fine,” I huff, steeling my spine. I turn my back on him, rifling through my bag that’s resting on the counter to make myself look busy. I just need a moment to gather myself and get my head back on straight. That was the problem with first loves; this is what being around them did to weak girls like me. I still felt like I couldn’t breathe like my heart belonged to him, because all it’s tried to do is rip its way out of my chest and into his feeble hands. I should hate this man, should be disgusted by his very presence for cheating on me all those years ago, but alas, here I am anyway.
There were a lot of things about the night I learned he was cheating on me that still didn’t make sense, but seeing as I was twenty-two and my heart was broken, I wasn’t exactly interested in digging any further into the greater details. All I knew was, the boy I’d been in love with most of my life, the one I had lost my virginity to and given my heart to, had broken it like I never meant anything to him. That was what I needed to remember during moments like these.
Not all the good times we shared, but the bad times.
And all the pain that came after.
• • •
The last few sessions with Reeve have gone well. He’s already making great progress and should be better and back on the ice in no time. But even as his body gets better, I can’t help but feel the pang in my heart. Once he’s back to normal, that means his time with me will be over. And we’ll go back to ignoring each other while pretending the other doesn’t exist.
The tension since that day he touched me has only gotten worse. It’s like that simple touch opened doors for us. Doors we both weren’t sure we wanted to open. It was out of fear on my part, not so sure what his deal was. Every touch after that one has felt wrong, but oh, so right. My hands lingered a little longer on his skin, and the way he gazed at me wasn’t just with a heat that was brewed from hatred. It was something else entirely. Something I was all too familiar with.
Each day felt like the tension grew in thickness. It was getting harder and harder to breathe in there with him. He made it hard to think. I could feel his gaze on me when I was working. He never looked away, and I hated that. I hated how he wanted to know more about me and what I’ve been up to for the past few years we’ve been apart. I thought for sure he would’ve confided in my brother or asked him about me over the years, but obviously, I was wrong. He knew nothing about what I was up to. And even though I was happy he was expressing interest, I was also hurt that he didn’t care enough to ask about me before. It was like he didn’t care at all. Honestly, I shouldn’t have been too surprised since I was the empath between the two of us. I guess I just hoped that at some point, he’d regret ruining what we had.
We were good together. Not because I found him insanely attractive and the sex was incredible, but because we were friends before we were anything else. He knew me better than I knew myself sometimes, and that scared me.
When I took this job, I talked myself into believing I could do this—I could be around my first love and not be bothered—but I was wrong. I was bothered. Every breath we shared in that same room, I felt myself giving in to him more and more. I was falling back into old habits so easily.
And sometimes, when I looked in his eyes during those quiet moments, with my hands on his skin, I thought just maybe, he might be falling, too.
• • •
I took a little extra time while getting ready for our session today. Usually, I keep my hair pulled back in a sleek pony, so it’s out of my way while I work, but today, I took the time to straighten it out so that it flows down my back. I even went as far as adding a little makeup. Normally, I prefer to be barefaced but not today. I tell myself it’s because I have another date with Beau tonight, but deep down, I know that’s not why I did it.
And I hate myself for it.
No longer needing the crutches, Reeve hobbles into the room, looking as handsome and as formidable as ever. He jerks to a stop when he sees me, a crease forming between his brows as he takes in the hair and the soft makeup.
“What’s wrong?” I ask after he doesn’t move or say anything. He’s just standing there, frozen over the threshold, staring at me with a blank expression on his face. He shakes his head.
“Nothing. You look nice.”
I dip my head down, hiding the heat as it rises to my cheeks in embarrassment. Clearing my throat, I begin the session by patting the massage table, indicating for him to lie down.
“I have a date later. Figured I’d get ready now, so I won’t have to rush to do it later.”
His body
stiffens on the makeshift bed. “Please don’t tell me it’s with Beau.” The coldness in his tone and the underlying warning there give me pause. Slowly, I glance up, and I’m taken aback by the rage I see there.
“Don’t start this again, Reeve,” I warn. “You’re not going to like my answer.”
He shoots off the table, stalking toward me. “He’s not good enough for you. Why are you so hell-bent on falling in love with guys who don’t deserve you?”
His words are a slap in the face. I press my lips together, frustration coursing through my veins. “You don’t know me anymore. And that’s so rich coming from you. You’re one of them!”
He crowds me into the wall, glaring down at me, his chest heaving. “You’re damn right. You were always too good for me. You were too good for everyone. But that didn’t stop me then, and that’s not going to stop me now,” he growls out just before his mouth descends on mine. A shocked gasp rips past my lips, leaving my mouth open to his ministrations, and he takes advantage, kissing me with an urgency like no other.
Tingles spread down my spine in awareness like no other. I moan into his mouth, my hands sliding around the back of his neck, tugging him to me. His plump lips work with mine in tandem, stirring lust and emotions inside me that I’ve long since buried.
Suddenly, he pulls back, our chests heaving, my breasts grazing his firm body as we stare at each other, our lips red and used from the aggressive kiss. Like two magnets snapping together, he kisses me again, and this time, he slides his hands under my backside, lifting me into his arms, and my legs lock around his waist. I draw him into me and gasp when I feel his erection digging into my center. He sets me on the table and continues kissing me.
I start stripping out of my shirt when it hits me. The reality of what we’re doing slams into me, and I freeze. Ice floods my veins as does shame, and I jerk back away from him.
“Oh, no. No, no,” I whisper. “This isn’t happening. This can’t happen.”
“Camila. Just let—”
My hand sails across his cheek, shocking us both at the sharp sting of contact. My hands fly to my mouth, covering my gasp, and my eyes widen. I didn’t mean to do that.
He rakes a frustrated hand through his hair. “Just let me explain. It’s not what you think. About that night.” My entire body goes rigid at the mention of that night. I push past him, trying to get away. “Camilla, Christ, just listen to me for once.”
I whirl on him, tears blurring my vision. “You cheated on me, Reeve! I don’t have to listen to anything you say. I loved you, and you broke my heart. I can’t let this happen again, don’t you understand?”
Reeve stops in his tracks, his lips thinning in a grim line when he sees the pain in my eyes. He hangs his head, resting his hands on his hips. I snatch my shirt, putting it back on, and I run. Far away from the mistake that is Reeve Bennett.
During dinner with Beau, my mind is elsewhere. I can’t think clearly, not after what happened with Reeve. He seems like a nice guy, but he’s just not what I need. And I hate that what I need is what’s bad for me. What I need is the same thing that destroyed me. My phone vibrates in my clutch, and when I dig it out, I frown at the unknown number.
Unknown: Talk to me, please.
My eyes slam shut. I know exactly who it is. Can’t he just leave me alone? Doesn’t he know the damaged he’s caused already?
Me: Leave me alone.
After cutting my dinner with Beau short, I decide to head home. We make plans to meet up the next time he’s in Chicago, but I can tell it’s not really a top priority for either of us.
I shouldn’t be all that surprised when I find Reeve sitting on my doorstep, waiting for me when I get home. I blow out a sigh.
“Go home, Reeve.”
“No.”
I brush past him, unlocking the door to my condo. He follows me in, and I turn on him with my arms crossed over my chest, trying to hold onto the anger of our past. Because the truth of the matter is, he’s not a good guy. Reeve Bennett is a heartbreaker, and I know just how capable he is of destroying someone’s heart. I like to tell myself I’m over the past, but I’m not. I’m not over it. I’m not over him.
“Why are you here? I told you; what happened earlier was a mistake.”
He crowds into my space. “This, us, we’re not a mistake. You can say it a million times to get yourself to believe it, but it’s not the truth.”
“There is no us. And maybe we weren’t a mistake, but you made mistakes. Irreparable mistakes that can’t be undone. Now, please, just go. Find someone else’s heart to destroy. I’m sure there’s a long line of puck bunnies who are interested.”
Reeve steps into me, his scent infiltrating my senses, his warm body heat clouding my better judgment. His hand snakes around the back of my neck. My eyes widen, and I try to jerk away, but it’s a weak attempt without any strength put behind it.
“What are you doing?” I whisper as he leans in.
“There is no one else. Its always been you, Camila.” Before I can pull in a single breath, his lips are on mine. He kisses me soft and slow but with a finesse that tells of his skill, his prowess of women. I fight the kiss at first, trying to pull away, but in the end, I fall into him. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him back, soaking in the way he tastes. The way he feels and smells. I throw my inhibitions out the window, and I stupidly tell myself this is one night. One night to give in to my desires and fall back into bed with Reeve Bennett. It could be so much worse. I could be falling back in love with him. I’ll settle for the lesser of two evils.
Stumbling through my hallway, we strip out of our clothes, barely breaking our kiss to tear our shirts off. I tumble back onto the bed, Reeve hovering over me, his broad muscled body on full display. It’s been years since I’ve seen him shirtless, and he doesn’t disappoint. He’s only gotten more muscular over the years. His body is a complete work of art. I trail my fingers down his abs, enjoying the way they flex under my touch.
When Reeve begins sliding down my body and pulls my underwear down my legs, he settles between my legs and places a slow, torturous lick down my center. I let out a moan of pleasure, which only spurs him on. He circles my clit with his tongue, flicking and sucking. My hips writhe on the bed in time with the rhythm of his tongue. When he slips a finger inside me, I groan in pleasure, feeling my orgasm looming just on the horizon. He crooks his finger in a come-hither gesture that has me panting and my hips jerking wildly. He’s rubbing against something inside me that has me seeing stars. Something that hasn’t happened since I last slept with him.
“That’s it. You’re almost there, aren’t you? God, I’ve missed this.”
I groan.
Christ, I’ve missed his dirty talk almost as much as I’ve missed him.
My orgasm barrels into me, and I cry out, my walls clamping around his finger. He slides up my body and seals his mouth over mine, swallowing my moans. I taste myself on his tongue, and it only makes my core clench with desire.
Reeve angles his cock against my entrance, and without much warning, he slides in, and we both groan at the pleasure that encapsulates us. He pauses there, his cock filling and stretching me in the best of ways.
“Fuck me, please,” I moan, raking my nails down his back, needing him to move. He grunts in pleasure and pain, and his hips pull out, then slam into me. I grasp onto the sheets for support as he pounds into me. With his hands gripping my hips, Reeve pumps into me. He stares down at his cock disappearing in and out of me. His shaft is glistening, and I toss my head back and close my eyes when he changes the angle, stroking deeper. He’s hitting that spot again, and when his thumb finds purchase on my clit, I feel on the verge of falling apart around him.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he grunts out between thrusts.
I shake my head, not wanting to say it. He knows it’s the truth, just as much as I do, but saying it out, admitting that to him is admitting defeat, and I can’t do that. I refuse to do that.
His
thrusts quicken, and he strokes my clit faster now. Dipping down, he takes a nipple into his mouth, running his teeth over the sensitive flesh. My walls clench around him as my orgasm comes barreling into me, front and center, demanding to be recognized.
“Say it, Camila. Fucking say it.”
I still refuse, and I cry out when he pulls out of me and drops back down my body, fluttering his tongue over my clit. I toss my head back and choke on the pleasure that’s rolling through me in waves.
“Yes! God, yes!”
“Say it, Camila,” he grits, his voice on the verge of losing all control.
“I’m yours,” I groan in defeat. Those are the magic words because he slides back inside me, and this time, he takes no prisoners. Each thrust is expertly placed, and it’s not long before, I’m coming around him and falling apart beneath him. My walls squeeze his shaft, and I clutch onto him like he’s my lifeline, and I’m trying to stay afloat.
I feel his warmth inside me, and when he drops down on top of me, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush me, I allow myself this small moment of reprieve. Before the thoughts dissolve this moment. Dissolve my small bubble of happiness.
“Don’t do that,” he urges.
“This was a mistake,” I whisper, my bottom lip trembling. It’s come a lot sooner than I expected.
“It’s not, and you know it. Tell me the last time you’ve felt like this? Tell me.”
I look away because I can’t. I haven’t felt this way since him, but I can’t justify it either because he’s a cheater. I’ve become that girl who doesn’t know what’s good for her, and she’s fallen back into the arms of the man who broke her. The man who doesn’t deserve her.
Scrambling off the bed, I hurry to gather my clothes. I need to get away from him. I need to run. I need to—
I jerk to a halt once I have my panties and shirt on. My chest is heaving, my heart banging against the bones recklessly as I work to summon my strength. This is my place. I shouldn’t have to leave. I shouldn’t have to be the one running away from him. He needs to be the one leaving. Going far, far away because it’s blatantly obvious I cannot be trusted around this man.
One More Step Page 17
