by J. B. McGee
“That’s what I wished for when Brody threw that fake ass snake at me.”
He chuckles.
I giggle.
“His nose—” We both say it at the same time.
Holden’s Adam’s apple bobs, and I bite my lip because I can’t help it. I want to run my tongue across his neck. I have wanted that since last night when we were in this room together. But it didn’t feel right, and for some reason, now it does. His eyes never leave mine. His hands squeeze my legs, and I wonder if it’s taking him as much restraint as it is me to not pounce and finally release all the years of unparalleled want and desire.
“Holden…” My core is throbbing. I should break up with Oliver first. But didn’t we pretty much do that last night? It was clear we were over. I’ve got a choice to make. I can either do just what Holden suggested I wanted to do, what everyone expects me to probably do, and stay with Oliver to keep from bringing more shame and scandal to my family. Or I can do what Holden did, but better. I can just not give a fuck about anyone. The difference between him and me will be that I won’t ditch him. Why didn’t he see that defeated his whole purpose? That he should have swept me off my feet just to piss everyone off? I’ll do it for us. It’ll be just us for once—like we both should have done before—but were too young and confused.
Everything’s on the table now. There’s no confusion.
There’s what I should do.
Then, there’s what I want.
His grip tightens, but damn, I need more time to think this through. My chest is rising and falling so fast, it’s like I’ve just run a marathon. “Cam…” he groans.
I hold my finger up. “A minute.”
He smiles and slowly nods. “Okay.”
My eyes never leave his as I work this out in my mind as fast as I can. If I know Holden, he’s probably counting the fucking seconds. If I explore this with him, everyone will assume I cheated on Oliver. I will, for sure, have a branded A on my forehead. It won’t even be removable like the scarlet A was. This will be so seared onto me. I’ll never be the same. It wouldn’t matter that Oliver was the cheater because I’m convinced everyone would think that was ultimately my fault for not keeping my man satisfied. It’s always the woman’s fault. If she leaves, if she stays, she’s screwed either way.
I can hold a grudge, drag Oliver through the mud, and share in his scandal. Or, I can create my own with Holden. I could give Oliver privacy and preservation of his reputation. Mine’s gone to shit regardless. That’d make me the bigger person, right?
Ha.
I’m just trying to justify what I want with Holden in my mind. But if I do this, Oliver could keep his secret. He could, would, play the victim. With Holden by my side, I think I could be okay with whatever stones people threw at me. Because, unlike last time, I do think Holden would protect me from that the best he could. I guess he tried. Brody’s nose. “Wait.” He disagreed with me earlier before I said excuse me. What the hell was that about? “Why did you say I was wrong?”
“I am saving you this time, tigress.”
“Oh yeah?” I arch a brow. “How do you figure?”
“From the worst mistake of your life. You can’t marry him. What if…” He clenches his eyes closed. “What if you accidentally got pregnant? Or do you think you’re going to remain celibate while he romps around with whomever he pleases? Or are you going to just have an open marriage? I won’t share you, so if that’s your plan—”
Tossing the towels on the ground, I’m straddling him and grabbing his head between my hands before he can say another word. “Kiss me, Holden.”
“No leftovers. No seconds, Cam. If I kiss you, I’m not walking away this time.” His head is stiff. He’s not budging, not leaning in, but I feel his cock beneath me, and I know his body at least wants to. I guess this is classic Holden, isn’t it?
My mouth drops. “Are you fucking kidding me? You told me you wouldn’t kiss me again until I asked. Now I’m asking, and you’re saying no?” My voice is so high, it cracks.
He places his hands on my ass and pulls me closer, rocking his hips against my core. “I did say I wasn’t going to do it again until you asked. But I don’t want you to make a rash decision, Cam. I want you to be positive, without a shadow of a doubt, this is what you want. I don’t want to be your rebound. I want to be your forever.”
“I like you, Holden,” I breathe through his parted lips. We’re so close. His lids are hooded, and he looks like he’s already in ecstasy. He smiles. “Do you?”
“I do. Like kiss you on the mirror like you. Like willing to be the talk of the town like you.”
“Fuck, come here.” He closes the small distance between our mouths and our lips lock. Warm and inviting. Everything I thought he’d be. Yeah, I kissed him last night, but I didn’t appreciate that those were finally his lips. I can now. Our tongues do the dance of lovers, chasing and relenting, but never letting our connection break. My hips start to move against his jeans. He pulls my dress up even more, his fingers skimming the sides of my waist the way they did my thigh under the table last night at dinner. God, I want a do-over. I grind more against him, moaning into his mouth, pushing his hand back down. He moves it back up and wiggles my dress over my head before tossing it on top of the pile of towels. Flicking the clasp of my bra, the straps slide down my shoulders and my breasts fall free. His hands are cool, and they feel so good on my flaming body. Everywhere he touches erupts in goosebumps.
He pulls away, panting. His eyes rake me over. “Let me look at you. All of you. Just for a second.”
I push myself off his lap. His hands grip my ass. “Whoa, whoa. Where are you going?”
“Letting you see all of me.” I drag my heels in front of me from the side of the couch. “And putting these on for you because you can’t deny you haven’t fantasized about this moment five hundred times since last night.”
He gulps as he stretches his arms out across the couch and spreads his legs. “Was that all you thought of it last night? Five hundred times?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t count. It was too many.”
“And now?”
“Not enough.” Grabbing the hem, I pull his Rind ‘N Grind T-shirt over his head. “Mmm. My stomach is rumbling. I need food.”
“Oh no, you don’t.”
“Uh huh. I saw your shirt, and I remembered how little you fed me last night.”
He chuckles. “That’s not how it went down, you know. I’ll feed you, but please don’t lead me on. I don’t think my dick can take any more of your teasing. In fact”—he motions for me to come close—“it’s seen enough of all of you. It wants to feel you now. My dick, my fingers, my mouth. Come closer.” I do as he says, feeling the sexiest I’ve ever felt in my adult life. A whole flock of birds just took flight in my stomach. And a lion or something just roared. He shakes his head. “I don’t want this to be a quickie.”
Grasping the zipper of his jeans, I slowly pull it down, staring at him the entire time. “Do I look like I’m in a hurry?”
“You look like a fucking angel.”
He lifts his hips as I slide his jeans and boxers down to his knees. He’s long, thick, and so hard. I drop to my knees and hold it in my hand, sticking my tongue out as I start to lick it like a lollipop. I never imagined this when we were younger, but last night after I woke up and got some water, I fell back to sleep with him on my mind. And my dreams were all about this.
He sucks in a breath that ends up sounding like a whistle. “Ah. Fuck, yes.” He loops my hair around his hand and guides my head and up down. I lick, swirl, and suck, using my hand to massage his balls. “Stop.” He jerks me away.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “What? Was that not good?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“What part of I don’t want this to be a quickie did you not get? If you’d kept doing that, I was going to be a goner.”
He reaches around me, messing with his pants around
his knees. “What are you doing? That is so unattractive. I can finish undressing you since we’re taking our time.”
He grumbles something under his breath. “Trying to get a condom.”
“Let me.” I pull his wallet from his back pocket and toss it at him. Then, I pull his pants and boxers off, tossing them behind me. I’m glad he has a condom. I didn’t even think about that. It’s probably not a bad idea, though. It’s a reminder that I need to get myself checked out as soon as possible. So much for thinking I was in a monogamous relationship.
He freezes. “What’s wrong, tigress?”
“Nothing. Not important. Not right now, at least.”
Holden nods. “Sure?”
“Positive.”
He snatches a packet from his leather billfold, then tosses his wallet onto the floor. “Come here.” He bites his lip.
Straddling his lap again, I suck in a breath at the connection of our naked bodies. He palms both of my breasts before taking one into his mouth, sucking it until my nipple pebbles. Unable to be still, I swivel my hips on his lap, rubbing and grinding against his cock, yearning for friction. “Holden, please.”
“Please what?”
“Make love to me.”
Swirling my tongue around the pink flesh of her breasts, I flick and suck until her nipple pebbles. My eyes wander up to hers as her mouth forms an O. Her eyebrows arch, and seductively, she lets her head fall back. Her skin is so tight. Licking my way up, I place my mouth right where her heart thrusts in her neck. Tenderly, I kiss it.
I’m not rushing this. It’s time for me to do what I wanted the first time. To savor every taste, every suck, every kiss, every look. Every. Thing. About. Cammie.
She sucks in a breath and grinds on my lap. Fuck. Grabbing her head, I tilt it back so I can see how her creamy cheeks have a rose tinge. How her green eyes, barely open, briefly connect with mine. How her nose scrunches when she opens her mouth to let her increasing pants escape.
Bringing her head closer to mine, I brush my lips against hers. “Look at me.” Her eyes widen. She really gazes at me, her chest heaving against mine. Each touch scorches me, causing my dick to twitch with need and arousal.
Last night when we were together, it felt like a fantasy that was being realized. It was everything and more than I’d ever imagined until she realized it was me. Those moments in the dark were like an appetizer for this, gone too quickly and not nearly enough to give me my fill.
As we danced around that dance floor and she had the audacity to try to bribe me to switch her date with fucking Charity’s, I told her I was only concerned about my dreams. Of course, I quickly followed up with the fact they include her. They always have. Well, at least since I got old enough to understand that girls weren’t just meant to be a guy’s friend—that sometimes there’s one put on this earth to be more than that—and I knew we were young, but I wanted it to be her. I want it to be her. “Cam…” My voice cracks, but it’s deep and filled with need.
“Yeah?”
“Once I take you, I’m never giving you back. Are you sure you want that?” I know I’ve asked her this already, but there’s something in the back of my head that’s bugging the fucking hell out of me. Fear. Fear that she’ll change her mind, that her parents will persuade her to do something else, or that she’ll decide after she’s been with me I’m not good enough for her.
Because the truth is, I’m not. Last night when she walked away from me, I still had hope. If we do this and she leaves me, it’ll be like she took that and stomped all over it, like all the light will be snuffed out.
I pull her close to me, inhaling and savoring her faint flowery scent leftover from last night. Once again, being with her feels like some kind of wet dream I’m about to wake up from any minute.
But there are different kinds of dreams. And the ones I was talking about when we were dancing were life dreams. I stare in her eyes, waiting for her to answer me. Her head tilts, her brows furrow. The only thing I can see, though, are those playing out before me.
Me being the only one to take her on dates for the rest of her life.
Me walking down the beach with her every day…forever.
Me being the only man whose arm she ever holds as she enters one of those fucked up country club functions.
And even though I hate them, I’d endure them for her because I’d endure anything for Camellia Olivia Spencer. The question is, will she do the same for me.
She freezes, and I swear my heart fucking stops. Cammie caresses my cheek with the back of her small, soft hand. “I promise I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t want it.” See, that’s where this gets mucky. Because she can want it now and not give a shit tomorrow. Hell, who even needs to wait for tomorrow. She could change her mind before we even leave this cabana. “What’s wrong?”
I swallow and close my eyes. I can’t tell her that it’s not enough. That’d be too much too fast. I don’t want to smother her, scare her away. How do I express to her that she’s the only thing I want and need, and that I want to be that person for her?
Up until last night, I always wondered if the way she made my stomach turn to knots every time she got near me was just one-sided. Just a smile from her across the room—not even directed at me—still makes my palms sweat and my mouth dry. But did she feel it too? That day in her bathroom, I was pretty sure she did. But then everything changed. And then last night, I knew it was all still there. A lifetime of want, need, and desire bottled up ready to combust, yet we were still walking a fucking tightrope. Now we’re not, though. We’re exposed and vulnerable. We’re compatible in every way when it’s just us. But once we go public, the one way we’re not compatible may be what breaks us. It won’t matter how we feel.
What the hell was I thinking? I should have never tried to pursue her because I know this. I’m strong enough to say the hell with all this around us. But is she? Would she leave it all behind for me?
I can’t undo all this shit we’ve done together over the last twenty-four hours. I’ve had a taste now, and I don’t want to untouch her, unkiss her, undo this connection we’re about to form. I miss it already and we’ve not even done anything.
“Holden?” Her voice is laced with desire, concern, and something I don’t recognize.
I hold up a finger like she did with me. “A minute,” I say, trying to swallow the cotton that’s taken up occupancy in my mouth.
I want her. I can have her. Even if it’s temporary. But she’s going to ruin me for anyone else. I’m already ruined. I’ve been ruined since that first non-date.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Hanging my head low, I give it a shake and squeeze my eyes shut. “This isn’t right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” I can’t believe these words are coming out of my mouth. “We’re not doing it this way.”
I can’t see her face when she inhales sharply. It’s like a knife stabbing me in the heart. I see her hand go back, but I grab it along with the other one before it makes contact with my cheek. “Jesus, Cam. Stop. Hear me out.”
She squirms in my lap, and my semi-hard cock wakes up. Down boy. She squeezes her biceps in toward her breasts, my guess in an attempt to cover them, but all it does is push them up and into my face. Goddamn.
She’s still wiggling when she says, “Holden, let me go.”
At this point, I can’t contain my smirk. “Do you promise not to hit me because it’s not what you think?”
She stops moving, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. I want her so bad, and my dick is pissed at me. I’m not sure which body part is responsible for this, my heart or my brain, but it’s the stupidest damn decision I’ve ever made. She chews on her bottom lip and rolls her eyes all the while shaking her head. She’s pissed at me. But when her head starts to nod instead of shake, I’m pretty sure she’s equally as angry with herself. “Okay.”
Pulling her to my chest so I won’t be tempted to stare at her perky breasts, I brace my hands on both sides of he
r face. “Your shit is still in Oliver’s apartment. Your parents think you’re engaged.” I shrug. “We’re not cheating. Fucking Oliver did it first, and you made it clear it was over last night. But damn if it doesn’t feel like we are. And I don’t want to feel like I’m your second as I’m burying myself in you. In here where you were waiting on him last night.”
A small tear travels down her cheek, and she pulls both her lips under her teeth and bites down. It slays me. “Cam, I want to be your only. I want you so fucking bad. It’s not a game to me. It never has been. It’s just the timing. It’s always the fucking timing. Right now, I’m at war with my brain, my heart, and my dick.”
She grinds against me and gives me a devilish grin. “Your dick is definitely fighting hard and has no issues with the timing.”
Pulling her lips to mine, I give her a soft, chaste kiss. “He doesn’t understand. He’s eager. I don’t want our timing to be off this go-round. I don’t want us to screw this up because we couldn’t wait to fuck like horny teenagers.”
“So, what are you saying?” Her hands rub up and down my torso, and her entire body relaxes. She’s seducing me. And shit, she’s good at it. Her stomach rumbles, and I grin.
“I’m hungry. You’re hungry. We have stuff to do. And by stuff, I mean getting your shit from Oliver’s and calling off your wedding.”
She frowns, taking a large gulp. “I don’t want to eat. I want you.” She rubs against me. Dammit. “And calling off the wedding requires telling my parents.”
Grabbing one of her hands, I lace my fingers with hers. “Let’s do it. Together. I’ll be by your side.”
“I don’t want to tell them about Oliver being gay, though.”
I tilt my head, genuinely curious as to what her thoughts are on this. The fucker used her as a pawn, played the ultimate game with her, and yet she wants to protect him? “Why? Why are you looking out for his interests? He sure as hell never gave a damn about yours.”
“It’s his secret to out, not mine. I’m not going to have that on my conscious.”
