by Nicole Fox
The lamps J.C. and Noah are using are too far away to have much effect on the light inside of our tent, so I can really only see the rough outline of Caleb and a few shadowy features. When he stretches out on the sleeping bag next to me, he lies on top of it, and I can see his bare chest rising and falling.
I don’t know where we stand anymore.
We had sex, and he lied to his friends about the trouble I’m in.
But did he do that for my benefit or his?
Are we enemies? Frenemies? Perhaps, even, friends?
I want to ask, but I can’t seem to find the words.
“I can practically hear the gears in your head turning,” he grumbles.
His voice is soft, but the suddenness of it still makes me jump. “I’m just lying here.”
“You’re staring at me and thinking.” He rolls onto his side, facing me. “It’s distracting.”
“My thinking is distracting to you?” I snort. “Okay. My bad, I guess?”
“Yes. You’re bad,” he says, no hint of sarcasm. “Life is complicated enough without overthinking everything, don’t you think? We both have too much shit going on to add any more drama, so let’s just … leave this alone.”
This? What does that mean?
“This” as in our relationship? Or the sex we had? Or the fact that he lied to his friends about—
“Stop,” he groans, flipping onto his back and folding his hands over his chest. “For God’s sake, just stop thinking, all right? At least for tonight. I’m trying to sleep.”
I want to ask a million questions and demand answers, but I’m not even sure I know what questions to ask right now. And even if I did, I don’t know if I want the answers.
For this moment, I have a group of guys who have my back, and I don’t have to worry about John.
That’s enough … for now.
28
Haley
Somehow, I manage to actually fall asleep, and when I wake up in the morning, I’m lying on top of my sleeping bag with my arms over my head and my tank top pulled up to the top of my ribs.
The light coming through the tent is pale and watery—just the first hints of sunrise—but it is enough light to see by. More than enough light to look over and see Caleb’s mostly naked, sleeping form.
His chest is broad and muscled, and his torso tapers down to trim hips with black boxers sitting askew.
Caleb is annoyingly beautiful.
There are pale white scars across his hands and chest, nicks and cuts from years of using his body like a weapon. I want to reach out and touch him, feel the raised skin and convince myself of his humanity.
But my own humanity is too much of a distraction. Meaning, I have to pee.
As quietly as possible, I crawl for the tent door, unzip it just enough to squeeze out of, and then hurry for the tree line.
The rest of the campsite is quiet. My guess is that the other Golden Boys won’t be awake for a few more hours yet, but I still don’t want any of them to see me in my pajamas.
When I’m done, I jog back across the dewy ground and hurry back into the tent.
“You running from a bear?”
I let out a yelp of surprise and fall on my ass on the tent floor. When I see Caleb smirking up at me, one arm thrown casually above his head while he watches me, I curse under my breath. “You scared me.”
“It looked like you were already scared,” he says. “What were you running from?”
“I didn’t want anyone to see my pajamas.”
He quirks up a brow, studying my thin cotton shorts and tank top. I’m keenly aware of my bralessness. “I’ve seen them. Does that mean I’m no one?”
His repetition of the question from the night before brings all of the confusion right back to the forefront of my mind.
With no other response springing to mind, I default to his. “I don’t know who you are to me.”
His eyes, puffy from sleep, narrow. “I think maybe we’re friends.”
“Excuse me?” I’d considered the possibility, sure, but hearing Caleb admit it so freely still catches me by surprise.
He props himself up on his elbows behind him, his torso stretching and flexing in a way that makes me want to burn the word “friends” to the ground.
Right now, I want to be so much more than friends with him.
“I mean, you know my secret, and I know yours. That seems rather friendly.”
I nod, chewing on my lip, uncertain if I should say what is on my mind. In the end, it’s impossible to keep it in.
“What happened in the woods, though … that felt …”
Earth-shattering? Glorious? Like we invented sex itself?
“Friends with benefits.” Caleb pulls his full lips into a devious smile. He shifts his weight to one elbow and reaches out with his other hand, circling his finger on my knee. The skin beneath his touch grows warm and goose bumps race up my thighs.
“No wonder you and the Golden Boys are so close.”
Caleb’s eyes go wide for a second before he barks out a laugh. “That isn’t funny.”
“It was kind of funny.” I smile back for a moment before turning serious. “But really, your friends seem great, Caleb. They’re willing to step up and defend me just because you like me. So, I have to assume they would understand if you told them about the fights and why you have to—”
“No.”
“But they already know you like to fight, so it’s not like they’d be surprised. Plus, you’ve been making this work for years. Nothing would change except you wouldn’t have to lie about—”
“I said no.”
Caleb’s voice is forceful this time, and he pulls his hand away, leaving my knee suddenly cold.
He sits up and crosses his legs, looking more comfortable in his boxers than most people look fully dressed, and folds his hands in his lap.
“My friends want to go to war with the Hell Princes because they hate the Hell Princes. You are just a convenient excuse. And they don’t need to know about my fighting because it’s my business. Like I already said, I’m not ashamed. I’m just private. Every other Hell Prince has managed to keep their mouth shut about my fighting this long, so you can, too.”
I don’t love the idea that my “new friends” might just be using me as a reason to start a ridiculous war, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.
More than that, though, I don’t love that Caleb feels he has to keep these secrets. He has to know that, at some point, the secret will come out.
Especially if he keeps in close contact with me.
John is vindictive, and he’ll want revenge if he finds out Caleb and I are friends. Especially if he finds out which benefits are involved.
Still, it isn’t my place to make any decisions for Caleb.
“Okay, sure. I’ll do whatever you want.”
When Caleb’s brow lifts, I worry he is doubting my sincerity, but then he plants his palms on the floor of the tent and rises to his knees.
The tent is small, no more than five feet wide, but it feels microscopic with Caleb moving towards me. My instinct is to retreat, but there is nowhere to retreat to.
“Whatever I want?” His muscles ripple under golden skin as he moves, like a lion crouching, ready to pounce.
As his prey, I should be utilizing every escape maneuver I know.
But instead, I lick my lips and nod.
“Say it,” he growls.
My heart thunders against my chest, and my voice is shaky as I follow his command. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
Caleb’s lips pull into a brief smile before he grabs my hip and pulls me towards him, sliding me across the slick bed of our sleeping bags and the tent floor.
I fall on my back, and Caleb is instantly over me.
Last night we were close, but the entire interaction happened against a tree.
Now, I can feel the weight of him pressing me down and it feels incredible. His kisses are slow and devouring, and I smooth my hands
over every exposed part of him.
I’ve witnessed Caleb’s strength so many times, but feeling it beneath my own fingers is an experience I’ll never grow tired of.
His hands skim beneath my tank top briefly before he seems to grow frustrated with the fabric and yanks it over my head.
Instantly, I’m bare from the waist up. Caleb absorbs the sight of me for a moment and then leans down to circle his tongue over my nipple.
I arch my back into his mouth. Caleb moans against my skin. The vibrations feel as good as his tongue.
I want to feel him everywhere.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, he begins a slow trek down my body, trailing kisses and fire in his wake, until he reaches the top of my cotton shorts.
What happened in the woods could be construed as a random hookup. It was emotional and adrenaline-fueled after John and his cronies showed up. We could both say we were under the influence of something else and made a rash decision.
But this is purposeful. Tortuously slow and intentioned. Caleb hooks his fingers around the waistband of my shorts and panties and pulls them both down together. I lift my hips to help him, but my entire body is shaky like I’ve had one hundred too many cups of coffee.
Honestly, I’m afraid.
The woods were mostly dark, so even though I was mostly naked, Caleb couldn’t see anything. But now? I’m laid bare in front of him in full sunlight, filtered only by the light blue tent material.
He can see every bit of me, and old insecurities creep up.
John always told me I was too thin.
Guys like girls with curves, not edges.
I learned to hate my thin thighs and arms. Whenever we had sex, the lights stayed off, and every time he touched me, I wondered what he was thinking.
Now, I’m stronger.
Not just mentally, but physically. I didn’t realize the training with Caleb had already affected me so much, but when I went to pack for the camping trip, my jean shorts were suddenly snug around my legs. When I looked in the mirror, I could see a shadowed line running down the side of my thigh, highlighting muscles I’d never seen before.
Caleb presses his fingers into this divot on the outside of my legs as he lowers his face to my center and runs his tongue along me.
Every muscle in my body clenches at the bombardment of sensations, but as he works and sucks at me, an easy warmth begins to creep in.
My legs grow heavy and fall to the sides, opening more for him, and I run my fingers through his silky golden-brown hair where it bobs over me.
As heat and pressure begin to mount, my breathing becomes labored. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to come.”
He lifts his head just enough to respond. “Why would I stop, then?”
I twist my hips, both trying to twist away from the overwhelming sensations and draw closer. “Because you haven’t—”
In the middle of my response, Caleb’s tongue flicks across my most sensitive space, and it is the drop of water that bursts the dam. All of my resistance and hesitation is futile, and I come in a crashing wave.
My legs seize up, gripping him around his ears, and I grab a handful of his hair as my back arches, and I shamelessly grind myself into his delicious, sinful mouth.
As the last rolls of pleasure fade, Caleb pulls away, slips his boxers down his legs, and reaches into his bag in the corner for a condom.
“I still will,” he says, finishing a conversation I’d forgotten we were having at all. “But there’s no reason you can’t come twice.”
Friends with benefits, indeed.
Caleb crawls towards me, but just as he is about to slip his leg between mine, I sit up and push him back. His brow furrows, but he doesn’t resist as I press on his firm chest until he is flat on his back.
“I think it’s my turn to take charge, no?” My voice sounds low and throaty, seductive in a way I’m unaccustomed to.
He nods.
The chemicals rushing through my body have made me confident and sure. I kick my leg over his and press my hands into his chest.
It’s a powerful feeling, straddling Caleb’s strong body and looking down at him. His muscles are tense and expectant, his pupils blown wide with desire.
He runs his fingers along the outsides of my legs, gently coaxing me on. It’s almost like his fingers are tapping out a Morse code message: Please. Faster. Now.
But he doesn’t rush me.
I lean forward, pressing my breasts against his chest and leave a soft peck on his lips. His chin and cheeks are stubbled with brown hair.
I kiss my way around his jaw to his ear, sucking the lobe into my mouth and nipping at it with my teeth.
He inhales sharply, and I can feel his excitement against my inner thigh.
Even though it has only been moments since my orgasm, there is an ache between my legs. A space begging to be filled, and as much as I want to tease Caleb, I want him inside of me even more.
I reach down between our bodies and wrap my hand around his base, eliciting another sharp inhale from him.
Then, I press him against my center and plunge down.
In one thrust, we are connected entirely.
Caleb’s entire body clenches, and he sits up slightly, wrapping his arms around my body and holding me close while I adjust to him.
“Fuck,” he moans, flopping back on the tent floor. “Holy fuck.”
His eyes are closed, and I know he is enjoying himself, but I want him to enjoy me.
“Open your eyes.” I press my palms against his chest and roll my hips over him. “Look at me.”
Somewhere in the back of my head, the nervous and shy side of me wants him to put on a blindfold so I can have my way with him in the dark, but I don’t want to be nervous and shy with Caleb.
Like he said, we know each other’s secrets.
There’s no reason to hide anymore.
Caleb’s eyes are shining but heavy-lidded. His lips part with an exhale as I lift myself nearly entirely off him before taking him into me again.
I can tell he wants to tip his head back, close his eyes, and give in to the pleasure building inside of him.
But he keeps his eyes on me and grips my hips as I ride him. His fingers gently guide me forward and back, up and down.
After a while, his hips begin thrusting upward, as well, meeting me halfway.
“Yes,” I breath, arching my back and running a hand through my hair. “Yes.”
Caleb groans and shifts one hand from my hip to my breast. He palms me, rolling his hand over my sensitive nipples, and then slides his hand down my body, pressing it against my stomach. I arch my back even more, rolling my hips forward, and our bodies connect in a slightly different way than before.
Sensation ripples through my center, and I gasp, doing it again and again, faster and faster, reaching desperately for the orgasm that is so close I can taste it.
I lean all the way back, planting my hands on Caleb’s thighs. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my waist, and he pulls me down onto him as he thrusts up. It’s hard and fast and blissful, and I don’t stand a chance.
My legs clench around his thighs, and I release a low, long moan as I quiver around him, pulsating with the strongest orgasm I’ve ever had.
I’m still shivering when Caleb pulls his legs up and, never once slipping out of me, shifts our bodies back so he is over me. He hooks his hands under my knees, lifts my legs up to my chest, and thrusts into me deeper than I’ve ever felt.
A string of curses falls from his lips as his thrusts become faster and less restrained.
Our skin slaps together, but neither of us is thinking about his friends sleeping ten feet away.
Our gazes are locked on one another. Never breaking. Not even for a second.
“Almost,” Caleb gasps, slapping against me with purpose once and twice more.
Then, he freezes and groans, and I feel him twitch inside of me.
His eyes finally flutter closed, giving himself
over to the pleasure.
I reach up and brush a strand of hair away from his sweaty forehead. He turns his face into my touch and kisses the palm of my hand.
It’s such a gentle moment that I could almost believe it didn’t really happen.
When Caleb is finished, he pulls out of me, presses a kiss to each of my knees before lowering my legs down, and then rolls over onto his back and lays a hand across his stomach.
I feel lazy and sated and, if possible, even more confident than before. I roll to my side and prop myself up on my elbow. “Even after that, we’re still friends?”
Caleb closes his eyes and looks like he might just go back to sleep instead of answering me.
But after a few seconds, he chuckles.
“Haley, after that, you might be the best friend I’ve ever had.”
29
Caleb
J.C. has been bitching about me paying him back for the weed he scored from a Public dealer, so I’ve been dodging him and Noah as much as possible.
I gave the last bit of my money to my mom for her car. Right now, she is getting rides to and from work with a coworker, but she is pulling extra hours at the bar to try and make more tips.
At the rate things are going, she is thinking she could have enough for the down payment on a shitty car in a few weeks.
That isn’t taking into consideration what I’ll make at the fights this weekend.
Because I will be at the fights.
I can’t afford to skip again.
Dad keeps calling me, and I’ve considered answering only to ask him for money. If I didn’t have to take care of the car, I could help Haley out with her debt to Bumper … though she never technically asked me to.
The idea of begging my dad for anything, however, is too much to stomach.
In the days since the annual camping trip, I’ve been able to take my mind off my money troubles for a few hours at a time—the same hours I spend training Haley.
“You can’t call this training if we don’t ever train,” Haley says, adjusting her grip on the lat pulldown machine and doing her best to ignore my roaming hands around her waist. “We’ve only made it through half of the workouts the last two days.”
