by Abbi Glines
I didn’t return to the table with Dean, though. I kept walking. I needed to find a quiet spot and gather my thoughts. Seeing Tripp in close conversation with Charity, their heads bowed together, was too much. I’d been ready to climb into his arms, but he had walked away easily enough.
Ugh. I was being catty. I hated that. I was not that girl.
Once I was out from under the tent, I went toward the darkness and away from the lights and the servers’ area. I couldn’t go back to my room yet. That would be rude. I just needed a few moments to myself. Maybe a good pep talk before I went back in there.
The cluster of palm trees was the closest thing to privacy I could find, so I headed down the small hill toward them. The sound of footsteps behind me stopped me, and I turned around to see Tripp closing in quickly. What was he doing?
He caught up to me and grabbed my hand. “Keep going,” he said as he kept his eyes on the palm trees.
“Why?” I asked, confused, as I started jogging to keep up with him.
He didn’t respond. When we were in the shelter of the trees, he grabbed my waist and pushed me up against one of the fat trunks. “Where were you going?” he asked, searching my face like it had all the answers in the world.
His hands were still on my waist, and his grip, although it wasn’t painful, was firm. “Uh, well, here,” I stammered out.
“Why?” he asked, stepping closer to me.
“I needed a moment alone,” I admitted. And you were all chummy with Charity. But I didn’t say that part. It would confuse things. Tonight was just a moment in time when we could forget the past. Nothing more.
“I was coming to get you to dance again,” he said, lowering his voice as he moved in closer and tilted his head down toward me.
“You looked very busy to me,” I replied before I could stop myself.
He moved one of his hard thighs between my legs. “I was talking. Did that bother you?”
Yes. “No, of course not.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he replied as he reached up and ran his thumb over my jaw then behind my ear before letting his fingers trail down my neck.
“Tripp,” I managed to say, although my voice was off.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, now running a finger back up my neck.
“Wh-wh-what are you doing?” I was really stammering now. Oh, God, I couldn’t handle this.
He bent his head and inhaled deeply against my neck. “I wanted to do this while we were dancing. Your skin’s so soft and smells so damn good.”
I wanted to tell him we should stop. This couldn’t go anywhere. It would only add to the pain. But my head tilted back, and I arched my neck instead. An open invitation.
Tripp groaned just before his lips touched my skin. The hot tip of his tongue darted out and licked its way up the side of my neck, and then he pulled my earlobe with his teeth gently before kissing his way to my mouth. I knew it was coming, and all I could do was hold my breath in anticipation.
When his lips covered mine, reality ceased to matter. That moment was all that mattered. Tripp’s hand reached down, grabbed one of my legs, and pulled it up. I wrapped it around his waist as he moved his leg in tighter between my thighs.
His mouth opened over mine, and I gave him what he was asking for. The taste of tonight’s champagne assaulted me as his tongue slid over mine slowly, as if he was trying to savor me. I slipped my fingers back into his hair. I needed to hold him here. I didn’t want this to end. This feeling . . . I’d forgotten it. So many times, I thought it was just a young girl’s imagination that had made me think it was this good. But my memory needed no embellishment.
Everything else in life fell away when Tripp’s mouth was on mine. Tasting him was only part of it. The intimacy of each lick and caress was like a flame being ignited.
Tripp’s hands eased up my thighs and under my dress until he was cupping my bottom. He froze, and everything stopped when his hands met bare skin instead of panties. I’d forgotten that I had forgone panties to avoid a panty line.
He inhaled sharply, tore his mouth from mine, and looked down at me. The desire that pounded in my veins and awakened every inch of my body was there in his eyes. “No panties,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
I shook my head because speaking was too much.
He slowly slid his hand down until he met the wetness that he’d caused. He lowered his forehead against mine and closed his eyes tightly while his finger began to move between my open legs. His breathing was hard and labored, as if he kept forgetting to breathe and had to gasp when he remembered to.
I squeezed his shoulders and trembled as his finger remained so close to where I wanted it to touch.
“You’re soaked,” he said, then hissed in a breath.
I was aware of this. I could feel it dampening my thighs. He began to move his finger, and I buried my face in his chest and cried out. He slipped one finger inside, then slowly started pumping it in and out. I moaned and panted, with my mouth muzzled against his chest.
“So hot and tight. God, I love touching you like this. I’m going to rub that swollen clit now, sweetheart. Hold on to me,” he said just before his thumb did as he promised.
My head fell back as I screamed out his name.
“Fuuuuck,” he said, grabbing my head and pulling it back against his chest. “That good? That hot little pussy wants to be taken care of? You’re squeezing my fingers so damn tight I swear I’m gonna end up coming in my damn pants.”
I didn’t need the added stimulation of Tripp’s dirty talk. I was already ready to explode. I wanted to scream his name and claw at his bare back. I no longer cared if someone heard me. I just wanted the release he was going to give me.
I gripped handfuls of his shirt and tried to unbutton it frantically. I needed my hands on him. I wanted to feel that beautiful chest I’d fantasized about.
“Easy,” he said, reaching up to keep me from ripping his shirt open. “I’ll take it off if that’s what you want, but right now, I want to feel you come on my fingers,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips.
I wanted that, too.
“You’ve soaked my leg,” he said with a pleased chuckle.
Oh, God. I didn’t even care. Grabbing his shirt tighter in my fists, I panted wildly against his chest.
“Ride my hand. Show me what feels good. Fuck my fingers, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” His voice was deep and raspy in my ears.
I didn’t need to ride his hand and show him anything. The sound of his voice talking about me fucking his fingers as he did wonderful things to me was enough to send me flying over the edge. The pleasure that broke inside was almost painful as it rocked my body hard. I jerked wildly as Tripp’s name fell from my lips in a desperate plea.
His mouth was still at my ear, telling me things that only prolonged this. How he could smell me and how my come was coating his fingers and how hard he was. I had forgotten about his dirty talk. He had a very powerful way with words.
“Stop!” I gasped out, needing to breathe.
He was holding me tightly against him as his hand remained cupped between my legs. “Stop what, sweetheart?” he asked, running his mouth up and down my neck as his heavy breathing heated my skin.
“Don’t talk,” I begged. He had to stop talking. It was too much.
A low chuckle vibrated through his chest, and I realized I still had his very expensive shirt clasped tightly in my fists. I let go and tried to smooth it out, even though my body didn’t want to function properly. “Can I talk yet?” he asked.
I looked up at him as he watched me, the need still glowing in his eyes. “If it’s not dirty,” I said, still sounding like I had run a mile.
He laughed out loud this time and pulled me tighter to him as his hand slowly eased out from between my legs.
“S’not funny,” I said, laying my head back against the trunk of the palm tree.
He bent down and kissed the corner of my mouth. “You don’t like it when I tell you how good
you feel?”
Oh, I liked it all right. “Your dirty mouth should come with a warning. It’s lethal,” I informed him as my heart slowed and my breathing evened out.
He smirked, then dropped his eyes to my legs, which were still straddling his thigh. I lowered my leg that I had wrapped around his waist. “My very wet pants leg believes you enjoyed my dirty words just fine,” he said, looking back up at me.
I was on my tiptoes in my heels to keep from completely sinking down onto his thigh. My calves were starting to burn. Damn man was too tall. “I need you to move your leg before I get a cramp in my calf,” I told him.
“Why will you get a cramp?” he asked, looking down. “Stop standing on your tiptoes. I’ve got you,” he said when he saw what I was doing.
I sighed and enjoyed the oxygen as it filled my lungs. “You’re already complaining about your wet leg. It will get much worse. I’m a bit of a mess,” I admitted.
“Not complaining about that, sweetheart. It’s sexy as hell. I can smell you on me, and it’s fucking amazing.”
Oh, God, there he went again. I shook my head at him and put a finger over his lips. “No more of that. I mean it. I have to pull myself together and walk back inside.”
Tripp grinned, and his lips felt so full underneath my finger that I wanted to trace them and lick them. “You can’t go back in there, sweetheart. Your dress is wrinkled, I’ve pulled most of your hair down, your lips are swollen, and I’d bet the soft skin on your neck is all red from my obsession with it. Then there’s the fact that you aren’t wearing panties, and you smell like sex. It’s intoxicating, and I refuse to let someone else smell it.”
Oh. Yeah. I couldn’t go back in there. I needed alone time for real now.
“I’m going to straighten myself up and go inside and give our good nights to Della and Woods. I’ll make an excuse for you.” He stopped and studied me a moment. The look in his eyes made me tingle between my legs again, though that should have been impossible. “Then I’m coming to you. I need you naked, and I want inside you.”
He didn’t give me time to reply. He dropped his knee and steadied me, then straightened my dress before walking back to the tent. I watched his long legs and the way his wide shoulders looked in that jacket. I waited for the guilt to hit me. I hadn’t been with anyone since Jace.
But it didn’t come.
Which made me angry. At myself for betraying Jace. At Tripp for making me want him. At life because I knew what I’d had with Tripp was destroyed. It could never be again.
Tripp
Once I was within the glow of the tent lights, I glanced down to check myself. Other than my shirt being wrinkled, I was fine. Besides, I didn’t intend to stand around long. I wasn’t giving Bethy enough time to change her mind.
Luckily, Woods and Della weren’t dancing. They were talking with Rush and Blaire. I slipped around the side so I didn’t have to walk through the tables and speak to anyone. Rush’s gaze found me first. My wrinkled shirt didn’t go unnoticed, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Where you been?” he asked in a slow, amused drawl when I finally reached them.
The other three pairs of eyes swung to look at me. Woods didn’t look thrilled, but Della seemed to be OK about my leaving Charity. A smile tugged on her lips.
“Your, uh, um,” Blaire stammered, looking at my wrinkled shirt. She glanced at Rush for help.
He chuckled at her reaction, and Blaire’s eyes went wide with understanding.
“Did you and, uh, Charity hit it off, then?” Blaire asked, her voice sounding unsure.
Charity? Fuck no.
“He abandoned Charity a while ago,” Woods said in an annoyed tone.
Della looked up at him and slapped his chest. “He did not. He talked to her, and she told him to go. It’s OK now, you don’t have to be upset with him.”
Woods looked relieved. “Good. Let’s not set him up on a date again. Too much damn stress.”
Della laughed and turned her gaze back to me. “Sorry about all that. I was trying to be helpful. I didn’t know . . .” She trailed off.
“It’s OK. I know, and I appreciate the thought. Uh, listen, tonight’s been great, and I’m really happy for y’all. But Bethy had to go back to her hut, and I’m going to make sure she gets there safely.”
Rush tried to smother his laugh with a cough. Woods didn’t even try. Assholes. They could at least pretend to believe me for the women’s sake.
“Oh, of course. Tell Bethy thank you for everything, and if we don’t see y’all in the morning before we take off, we’ll see you when we get back from our honeymoon,” Della said.
“Have fun,” I told her, then glanced over at Blaire, whose curiosity was all over her face. If I didn’t get out of there fast, she was going to start asking questions.
“You, too,” Woods replied with a smirk.
Before they could see the grin on my face, I turned and headed for the exit.
Bethy was sitting in the lounger outside her hut as I walked up. She was lost in her thoughts. It didn’t look like she had even gone inside. The heels she’d been wearing were dangling from her fingers, but other than that, she hadn’t changed. Fear of where her thoughts might be swept over me.
I sat down beside her, but she didn’t look at me. Not a good sign. I wanted to reach over and take her hand, but I was afraid she would bolt. I was helpless again. I knew this feeling well.
“He looked like you,” she said softly as she watched the water sparkle under the moonlight. “The first day he noticed and flirted with me, all I saw was you. The way he smiled, how his eyes danced with amusement. He was so much like you.” She stopped and looked at me. A sadness in her eyes I couldn’t reach tore me apart. “I slept with him the first time because of you. I missed you so much.”
She needed to do this, but I wasn’t sure I could sit through it.
“But he wasn’t like you. Not really. He was his own self. His smile was more crooked, and he was playful. Less serious. He loved me, and because of that, I fell in love with him. I was scared at first, to love again. I knew how bad it hurt in the end.”
My hands fisted as I forced myself to breathe.
“His love was easy, and he made me feel like the most important thing in his life. I’d never had that before.”
Because I’d left her. I hadn’t stayed.
“Losing him, losing what we had, was . . .” She dropped her head into her hands and took a deep breath. “It changed me. It almost destroyed me. I don’t know if I’ll ever find that girl I once was again. The girl I became with Jace.” Finally, she turned her head to look at me. “You and I had history. A past that needed closure. I was so afraid when you came back that I loved you more. That I would always love you more. You terrified me. I was so afraid I’d lose what I had with Jace because when I looked at you, my heart did things I hadn’t felt in a long time.”
She reached up and wiped away a tear that had escaped and rolled down her cheek. If I could go back and change the past, I would. Anything to take this away from her.
“I’ll have to live with the fact that my stupidity took his life. That guilt will never go away. I was drinking to numb the memories. I knew I needed to tell Jace the truth about us and the pregnancy, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to hate me. I was afraid I’d lose his love. The way he looked at me like I was the only one in the world for him. But if I could go back, I’d tell him. Even if he hated me for what I’d done, at least he’d still be alive. His laughter wouldn’t be gone . . .”
I reached over and covered her hands, which she was fisting together in her lap. Her body tensed under my touch, but she didn’t move away. I didn’t know what the right words were. All I knew was that Jace wouldn’t have wanted this. He didn’t die saving her so she could live with this guilt. “You were scared of losing the man you loved because of something from your past. Drinking too much to mask emotions you didn’t want to face is normal. People do it all the time. What happene
d with Jace was not your fault. It was an accident, Bethy. It was a tragic accident. You had been in that water after partying and drinking many times in your life. We all have. Hell, I went surfing at night drunk once. Is that safe? No. But you weren’t thinking clearly. Jace saw you go out there, and his only thought was to keep you safe. He never once thought about the danger of swimming out too deep or rip currents. He chose to save you and sacrifice himself. And I knew him well enough to know he didn’t want to save you so that you could live with this guilt and pain. He wanted you to have a life, Bethy. He wanted you to live. What you’ve been doing is not living.”
Bethy’s mouth puckered up as she sucked in a sob. I would take this all from her and live with it if I could. “Tonight,” she said as another sob broke free. “Tonight with you . . . I didn’t even think about him.” As if realizing it herself as she admitted it, she pulled her hands free of mine and stood up abruptly, putting distance between us.
“That’s part of living. Enjoying life. You’ve just been existing,” I told her, hoping she got this. Accepted it.
She sniffed and wiped at her face. “I just . . . I can’t.” She stopped and took a deep breath, then turned to look at me. “I can’t live life . . . with you. I just can’t.”
I stood up, but she shook her head and turned to go inside. “I love you.” The words came out before I could stop them. Those were words I had wanted to say to her again for the past eight years.
She grabbed the side of the door tightly but didn’t look back at me. We stood there in silence for several moments while I held on to the one small thread of hope that this would keep her in my life. “I’m sorry, but it’s too late.”
She walked inside, and the walls around her hut closed.
This was it. I needed to walk away and let her find the life she wanted. I would never be a part of that life. But how could I accept that? I wanted a future with Bethy. I wanted to be the one to make her smile. How much more could I push her? Finding a way to let her move on and heal without me felt like ripping my heart out and leaving it lying there at her feet. She wanted to heal. She just didn’t want to do it with me.
