Inhibitions

by Mattie Bowman

  I always want to be what she needs. I fucking love it.

  Maybe I love her.

  “Well,” Grant said, clapping his hands together and regaining my attention. “Despite the hiccup with fantasy number one, do you two feel capable of proceeding to the next?”

  Presley dropped my hand and fiddled with the ends of her hair. “Do you think so?” She asked him, not me.

  Scratch the love bit. She drives me fucking crazy. We didn’t need him to tell us we were good to go. I could feel it in my bones. In fact, I was counting the seconds until I could get Presley in such close quarters again. Even if I knew it was an act, even if it wouldn’t amount to anything after we checked out of this place, I needed her. To touch her, feel her, show her how it was to be worshiped. Because if any woman deserved to have their every fantasy available for her, it was Presley.

  “I absolutely do.” Grant looked at me. “You excited, Owen? The next one is yours.”

  My mouth dropped open. “I thought this would focus on Presley.”

  “You thought I only wanted your answers for what, compatibility?” He chuckled. “No. You both have to share in each other’s deepest desires. How else will you ultimately decide if they coincide with each other?”

  Presley chuckled next to me, and I lightly pinched her thigh. “Laugh it up, Fuzzball,” I said, grinning as I chided her with one of her favorite lines from Star Wars.

  “Oh, I totally will, Nerfhearder.” She held her hand over her lips, barely containing her giggles.

  Could the woman be any more perfect? Fuck, why was I noticing all of this now?

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I’d always known she was the perfect woman. I just didn’t realize she was perfect for me because I hadn’t been in a real relationship, ever.

  Grant slid out of the booth and clamped a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. I can understand how nerve-wracking it can be, for men especially, to bare themselves to their partner.” He glanced at Presley. “But look at her. Aren’t you prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure she’s happy for the rest of her life? That you both are?”

  Presley stopped laughing then, her eyes darting to her hands in her lap.

  “I am,” I said without hesitation. Making Presley happy had always been a priority of mine, it just had never included this kind of happy. The more I thought about it—which was a great fucking deal after her spectacular performance last night—I realized I was aching for the chance to show her. All she had to do was give me that chance.

  But she won’t. I reminded myself. Because she’s your best friend, this is only a job, and your relationship is completely fake.

  “Good,” Grant said and let go of my shoulder. “I’ll have Anderson fetch you tomorrow. Then we’ll talk plans.”

  “Great,” I said, acid rolling in my stomach. How could I keep up the charade when my heart wouldn’t stop reaching for her?

  Lock it up. You can’t fuck this up with her.

  I couldn’t do anything that would drive her away and coming on to her while pretending to be her fiancé would most certainly throw her for a loop. Especially after years of never even implying that was something I wanted.

  Idiot. How could I have been so blind?

  I wouldn’t cost her her dream job, though, regardless of how badly I wanted to reach across the booth and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

  “How’s your head?” she asked, her voice soft. She reached up, gently stroking the base of my neck with her fingers.

  “Fine,” I said, my voice cracking under her touch.

  “I’m really sorry about that.” She dropped her hand, her cheeks flushing once again.

  I tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “I’m the one who is sorry. I was…” I shrugged. “Thrown.”

  She chuckled at my pun. “Friends?” The word tasted bad in my mouth like it never had before. It was like a switch had been thrown in my brain and Presley was the power source.

  “Always,” she said.

  “Promise?” I pinned her with my eyes desperately needing the confirmation. I couldn’t lose her, but I didn’t know how long I could behave now that I’d squeezed this mental trigger.

  She placed her hand on my forearm, her eyes losing all joking. “Of course. Look, I shouldn’t have shut you out this morning…I was embarrassed.”

  “Since when have you been embarrassed around me? I’ve held your hair while you puked after a bender.”

  “That was one time! And it was my first frat party!”

  “People don’t forget.”

  “Not everyone has a steel trap for a mind.” She arched an eyebrow at me. “How do you remember all the things you do? My bifocals sweater, for instance?”

  My chest tightened. Now was a perfect opportunity to relay my revelation to her—that I remembered because it was her. And that when it came to her—she was all that mattered to me.

  “Don’t answer that,” she said, taking a sip of water. “I’m sure it has to do with thinking I was the biggest nerd you’d ever seen.” She rolled her eyes. “Though, I do still have that sweater.”

  “Do you really?” I licked my lips, a picture of her in that sweater with nothing underneath popping behind my eyes.

  Fuck, man.

  I clenched my eyes shut erasing the image by running combo-drills in my head, visualizing Craig screaming them at me from the corner of the ring. Yep, that did it.

  “It’s the softest material ever, and it’s vintage. Of course I still have it.” She looked at me like she was explaining fashion to a two-year-old. “Come on.” She nudged me. “Let’s explore the grounds before the sun sets.”

  I scooted out of the booth, offering her my hand. She took it as I helped pull her to her feet, her head only coming to my shoulder. I looked down at her, resisting the urge to keep hold of her. “Do you not remember what he said about bears?”

  She reached behind her and pulled her long hair into a knot. “That’s why I said before dark. Are you scared?” She smirked and gripped my shoulder. “I’ll protect you.”

  “Please,” I said, shaking her off. “Since when are you the adventurous one?”

  A smile lit up her blue eyes. “Maybe it’s this place.” She shrugged and walked passed me.

  I hung back a few moments, watching her walk, taking in every inch of her retreat. Glancing at the ceiling, I let out a slow breath. This woman—I promised her things wouldn’t change, but even she was being affected by the freedom this place offered—and we were only on day three.

  7 Presley

  “I’m slightly disappointed,” Owen called from the living room while I changed.

  “About?” I asked, slipping on my red bikini. The walk on the grounds had been gorgeous but exhausting. I was more than ready for a generous glass of wine and a long dip in the private hot tub which sat inside the deck that connected to our suite.

  “Not one bear. Maybe Grant embellishes to give guests a sense of danger.”

  I rolled my eyes as I opened the door and padded barefoot toward the kitchen. “You don’t like him, do you?”

  “It’s not that—” he turned around where he’d been digging through the fridge and stopped mid sentence, his eyes scanning my body.

  A flush of heat swarmed my skin, but I kept my face even while I walked past him to grab the bottle of wine that had my name on it. I had behaved like a child, hiding from him earlier. And while my foul-up as a stripper still rang in my head with utter mortification, I’d decided it was actually funny as hell. I was no Demi and Owen had been in his right mind to crack up at an already awkward situation. I’d let myself get lost in the moment, in a fantasy tailored for me, and had taken myself way too seriously. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “What are you doing?” He finally shut the fridge he’d held open that whole time.

  “Trying to open this bottle,” I said, struggling with the opener.

  Owen blinked a couple of times before offering his hand a
nd flicking his fingers in a come hither motion. I tried three more times before accepting defeat and gave him the bottle. He had it open within seconds and quickly poured me a glass.

  “Join me?” I asked, taking the bottle under my arm along with my glass.

  “I…” He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down.

  I laughed. “I promise not to dance.”

  He chuckled, looking up at me. “Okay. And I told our butler to take the night off. If you need anything, you’re going to have to rely on me, or yourself, or you know, one of the other hundred staff members around here.”

  “I hope I’ll manage!” I laughed and turned on my heels, opening the back door that led to the patio. A midnight sky rested peacefully over the mountains, the glittering stars illuminating the snow caps far in the distance. Setting down the bottle and glass, I slipped into the bubbling hot water carefully. The liquid surrounded my body as I sank lower, allowing it up to my neck as I kept my arms out to retrieve my glass. Sipping the red wine, I leaned my head back, gazing at the stars.

  “The sky is never this clear back home,” Owen said from behind me.

  “And it never has this delicious bite to the air, either.” The weather in California was amazing but here—despite it not being winter—there was still a constant crispness to the air that home didn’t have. “I like it.”

  The warm water sloshed around me as Owen sank into the tub across from me. With a tub as huge as this, we could comfortably fit four more of us inside it, so no part of him brushed against me. I tried to ignore the disappointment that sat heavy inside me. Maybe it’d been too long since I’d been with someone—it had been over a year since David—and I hadn’t had the courage to sleep with anyone since.

  Is that all this is? Lust?

  The undeniable urge to float across the hot water and make it even hotter with Owen filled my insides like an aching pulse. No, there was more to it than the need for a good—not self-served—orgasm.

  “It suits you.” Owen’s voice drew me straight back to the present, and I jolted a little, splashing my wine over the glass.

  “What?” I asked, worried I’d said something out loud.

  “The mountains?” He said it like a question. “You all right?”

  “Oh,” I said, sighing and taking another long gulp. “Yes, but you know how I love the ocean.”

  “Me too.” He leaned his head back, looking at the sky. “Hard to beat the view, though.”

  “You’re telling me,” I mumbled, unable to take my eyes off him as I drained the rest of my glass.

  Beads of water rolled down his hard chest and just below the water I could see every inch of the abs women drooled over ringside. Suddenly the water between us and our half-naked bodies seemed like the flimsiest barrier in the world—it’d only take one slip on my part, and I could end up in his lap again.

  My thighs practically purred with the memory of how wonderfully delicious he’d felt underneath me—and he’d been fully clothed. The swim shorts he wore now wouldn’t cover him as well as his jeans had and with the water…

  Stop. Right. There.

  I poured another heaping glass of wine for myself and topped off Owen’s. Good lord, I was practically panting. Taking another drink, I focused on the image of the chair hitting Owen in the back of the head. There. That put me back in my place. I was not a sexual goddess. I was the woman who tripped up stairs, spilled sauce on her white blouses, and probably wouldn’t know a decent orgasm if it hit me in the face.

  David had been fine in bed, but more on the selfish side, and I’d soon learned I could give myself more than he could. That should’ve been your first clue, dummy. But I’d loved him—he had been so romantic in the beginning. I shook my head, barely removing my lips from the glass as I let the wine fuzzy the memories.

  “Hey,” Owen said and scooted across the water, taking the glass from my hands. He turned to set the glass on the wooden floor of the deck, exposing the incredible back muscles he had before he turned back around to focus on me. Who has back muscles like that? “What’s going on up there?” He gently smoothed the wrinkle between my brow.

  A warm chill raked across my skin. “Nothing,” I said, slightly breathless. His thigh brushed mine, and he was so close my entire vision was filled with Owen. The view rivaled the starry sky, but it made it extremely hard to think about anything other than touching him again.

  This is Owen! Your best friend. He’s seen you in your cat pajamas!

  I covered my forehead with my hand, chuckling.

  “That isn’t nothing,” he said, prying my hand away. “Talk.”

  Usually I would tell him exactly what was on my mind. But not now. He wouldn’t understand the struggle raging inside me—the desire I had for him and how yesterday had forced it to the center of my chest. The fact that I was contemplating crossing every friend barrier we’d ever silently set up just to get a taste of him. To know what it was like to be held and touched and kissed by a good decent man who I trusted.

  “What do you think your fantasy will be?” I finally asked instead of voicing my train of thought.

  He scoffed. “No way. You didn’t tell me anything.”

  I shrugged. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

  “Grant will probably get it wrong,” he said. “Probably set us up with something over the top.”

  “I doubt that,” I said, moving to retrieve the glass he’d taken from me.

  “Why?” He asked, playfully blocking my path. My chest grazed his and I locked eyes with him, my body tensing from the sensation.

  “Because mine was spot on.” The wine was really working, successfully loosening up my mouth on subjects I’d normally keep locked tight—even with Owen.

  “Really?”

  “You shocked?” I asked, trying for the glass again. He stopped me, again.

  “At first, yes. After seeing you...” he licked his lips. “I think it was perfect for you.”

  A breath caught in my throat before I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that’s what perfection is. Falling on your ass.” This time I dove for the glass, but he clutched my hips, locking me against him while we laughed.

  This wasn’t new behavior from him, nothing new about this kind of touching, yet it felt new to my body, like a particular, previous dormant set of nerve-endings had awoken in the last few days and only responded to his touch. My core hummed as I grabbed his shoulders to steady myself, our eyes catching. He saw something in mine—probably the want slamming through me—and he quickly let me go, clearing the path to my wine.

  It took me a moment to recover from the abrupt shift, but I finally grabbed my glass and sipped it. After several drinks in silence, I snorted a laugh into my cup.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I came in here to relax,” I said, knowing he wouldn’t understand the reasoning behind my tension.

  “If this isn’t working I could always give you a massage,” he said, motioning his head toward the room.

  I thought I saw a flash of seriousness in those playful eyes of his as if he wanted me to agree. That couldn’t be right, though. Had to be the wine playing with my head. It couldn’t be an innocent offer, if it were a serious one anyway, because if Owen got me on a bed and started rubbing me down? Well, I’d lose all sense of control and purr like a kitten for him.

  “Very funny,” I said, finishing my glass and sinking further into the water, reassuming my earlier position with my head back. “I’ll let the water work its magic a little longer.”

  “Suit yourself.” He slowly stood, the image of him from my peripheral more than tempting, but I held my ground and didn’t look his way. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

  I cracked just a tad and watched him as he walked back into the suite. A flutter of excitement danced through me as I tried to figure out if he was totally messing with me because of the fantasy themed resort, or if he was serious and wanted to explore what we’d started last night before I’d royally
embarrassed the both of us.

  Toweling off, I made my footsteps light as I walked into the suite, scanning the living room for him. A light flickered underneath the guestroom door, where he’d slept every night besides the first one here. I reached out to knock on it but drew my hand back, my heart pounding in my chest.

  What if I take him up on his offer and something does happen?

  Things would change. I had sat front row in not only almost all of Owen’s fights, but I’d also witnessed more than I’d like with his weekly conquests. It was amusing to watch women fall all over themselves for him, sure, but it was less fun to never see a repeated face. He never stuck with one woman long enough for me to know any of them—and despite the fact that he was upfront with them about his intentions and his lack of relationship skills—I knew some of them had to have been silly enough to think they’d be different. They’d change him.

  Is that what I’m doing?

  I pressed the tips of my fingers against his door, an ache in the center of my chest.

  No, I just wanted to feel something. And if I had to choose someone to get me there, Owen was the best choice…ever. A devious grin slipped across my lips as I pictured his face when I opened his door, challenging him to show me what so many others had taken pleasure in before me.

  The light flicked off, the change snapping me out of my fantasies and back to reality. I retreated to my room, quickly throwing on a pair of cotton pants and tank, sliding my toes into a pair of flip-flops. I had to get out of that room, away from my red-hot thoughts and their sole focus on my best friend. My best friend who was a notorious player. The perfect person to slake your needs.

  Clenching my eyes shut and shaking my head, I stepped into the hallway outside our suite, no destination in mind. Anywhere that didn’t have Owen’s scent teasing the air would be a great start.

  Damn, could I be any more desperate? What had I gotten us into? And would things be able to go back to normal when we went home in a couple of weeks?

  As I made it down to the lobby, I realized there was no way I could simply ignore all the new places Owen was making me tingle without even touching me. Bypassing the front desk, bar, and nightclub, I found myself aimlessly wandering while I chewed over the general fuckedupness of the situation.