Crossing the Line

by Nicola Marsh

  In the end, she took the decision out of my hands. She grabbed the hem of my polo shirt and slid it upward until it was off. When she reached for the zipper on my jeans, I stilled her hand. I'd been on edge all day with wanting her. If she touched my cock, I was in danger of regressing to my early teenage days and this would be over before it had begun.

  My jeans and jocks came off in record time, but I had the foresight to grab the condom out of my wallet before the sodden mass hit the floor.

  As Mia watched me with silent approval, I slid the condom on, then reached for her.

  She straddled me, the blanket draping us in our own private cocoon.

  Then she lowered herself on my cock and all I could think was how fucking right this felt.

  I grabbed her arse in one hand and thumbed her clit with the other, pumping upward as she slid down, the friction between our bodies creating a welcome warmth beneath the blanket.

  She arched back a little, thrusting her tits in my face, and I sucked one into my mouth, then the other, loving her pants and moans.

  The pressure built in my balls, the promise of mind-numbing pleasure, as she rode me with an abandon that was incredible to watch.

  I circled her clit faster as her breathing got shallower, waiting for her to fall off the edge before I followed in an orgasm that clamped my head in a vice as I shot my load.

  I liked sex. Sex was fun. But sex with Mia? Fuck. Indescribable.

  She sank into my arms and I cuddled her, wanting to shut out reality for a little while longer.

  A reality that insisted we couldn't do this, no matter how badly I wanted to.

  Chapter 12

  MIA

  When I was a teenager and needed to blow off steam, I'd head to the Santa Monica Pier.

  I loved the vibe. The hip people, the cosmopolitan feel, the chance to lose myself in a sea of humanity.

  Tonight was different. I didn't need to blow off steam or blend in with the crowd. I was with Kye and what we'd done in the car two hours ago? Made me more relaxed than I'd been in ages.

  "Want to see Pacific Park or the aquarium?" I snuck a glance at our joined hands, not caring what we did as long as I got to feel this good.

  "I'm happy just strolling," he said, threading his fingers through mine. "It's a nice night for it."

  "Even in damp clothes?" I grinned at the memory of the struggle we had getting back into our wet clothes. Hard enough getting dressed in a car.

  He ducked his head to whisper in my ear. "With the heat you generate, babe, your clothes should be steaming."

  Some of that heat found its way into my cheeks. "Right back at you."

  Our gazes locked and my nerve endings zinged like they always did when he looked at me.

  I wished I knew what he was thinking but while I was feeling this good, no way would I risk another lecture on why we couldn't be more than friends.

  We were together, in this moment, and I intended on making the most of it before we headed back to the academy all too soon.

  I blinked and the intimacy enveloping us dissipated. "This was my go-to place when I was a kid."

  When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled adorably. "Yeah? I wouldn't think a pampered princess like you would need to get away."

  I rolled my eyes and bumped him with my hip. "Believe me, every teen girl needs to get away at some point."

  "Let me guess. Your dad didn't buy you a pony?"

  "More like he was never around, always on the road playing tournaments, and when he was here he tried to overcompensate."

  Kye remained silent, his pity palpable.

  "Don't feel sorry for me, because it wasn't that bad." In fact, I'd idolized my dad and hadn't begrudged him his career, despite not seeing him for a good chunk of every year. But being back home was making me maudlin. "I just didn't like him smothering me."

  "It's natural he'd be overprotective." His gaze slid over me like warm treacle. "I mean, look at you."

  "Thanks, but if I'm dorky now, I was worse back then."

  He smiled. "Perm? Glasses? Braces?"

  "Two out of three."

  "Which ones?"

  "Like I'd tell you." Having the hot guy trying to imagine me with a perm and braces wasn't how I wanted to end tonight.

  "I'll find out."

  "Like hell." I bumped him with my hip again and he bumped back, the gesture soft and teasing and perfect for the way we were in sync tonight. "What about you? Did you have a mullet and wear acid washed jeans?"

  "I'm not that old," he said, the previous warmth in his tone replaced by a deliberate coolness that saddened me.

  We had a physical connection, a great one. But the sooner I figured out that didn't equate to anything more, the better off I'd be.

  I shouldn't push him, should retreat back to banter. But I wanted to know more about Kye. Wanted to know everything.

  Because while I could logically pass this off as a physical fling, emotionally I was already craving answers to so many questions.

  "Or were you one of those tennis jocks, too cool for school?"

  His lips compressed and his expression tightened, before he released a reluctant breath. "I was a loner. Learned it was easier to keep away from people than face the consequences."

  From what he'd already told me about his mom, I could guess what he'd been through. "You were teased and got into a lot of fights?"

  He nodded, his somberness making me want to hug him and make it all better. "Guys were jerks. Always making lewd comments about Mum. Trying to use me to get into the strip club underage." He gripped my hand so tight I wiggled my fingers and he immediately eased off the pressure. "Sorry."

  "Don't be. I get how mad that stuff must've made you."

  "You have no idea." His icy tone made me want to rub my bare arms.

  Wishing I'd never started digging, I tried to alleviate the mood. "At the risk of sounding like an ignorant American cliché, was your go-to place the Sydney Opera House?"

  The corners of his mouth twitched. "Is that the only Sydney landmark you know?"

  I placed a hand over my heart. "Guilty as charged."

  His eyes glazed over for a moment, as if he was deep in thought. "My go-to place was Rushcutters Bay. I liked the calm of the water after the hustle bustle of the Cross."

  Glad he was finally opening up, I risked pushing him further. "What's the Cross like?"

  "Chaotic. Sleazy. Dangerous."

  A little shiver ran up my spine at his audible bleakness. "I grew up there, and Mum was known as a local, so I was usually safe."

  He shook his head, his faraway gaze fixed on the end of the pier. "But I saw too many kids arrive at the Cross looking for adventure and a good time, kids who ended up druggies or hookers or dead."

  A lump formed in my throat. "Was tennis your go-to place too?"

  His head snapped up and he fixed me with a startled stare. "How the fuck do you know me so well when we barely know each other?"

  "I-I … care about you," I said, sounding lame but meaning it and terrified he'd clam up more now than he had before. "I think we click with some people in this world and time's irrelevant."

  I expected him to scoff so when he took my other hand and squeezed both before looking into my eyes, I melted a little.

  "We click, huh?"

  "Absolutely." I nodded, sounding way more emphatic than I felt.

  Truth was, I wanted to click with Kye so badly I could taste it. The burning question was, did he want to click with me?

  "I don't click with many people in this world," he said, dropping a light kiss on the tip of my nose. "But if I had to click with anyone, it'd be someone just like you."

  I wanted to kiss him and hug him and not let go.

  I settled for a goofy grin. "Want to grab a hot dog?"

  "Nah, let's head back."

  And just like that, my fantasy bubble burst.

  Kye blew hot and cold. I knew that.

  Why did I have to fall for a guy who'd sh
ut me out as soon as he let me in?

  Chapter 13

  KYE

  I was in deep shit.

  Worse than the time I'd been surrounded by a gang of bullies near the fountain at the Cross. Worse than the time I'd been busted by Mum peeping at the girls getting dressed when I was thirteen. Worse than the time Dad had been called to the Academy after I'd busted that dickhead's nose and he'd stared at me with disappointment and pity.

  Yep, hanging with Mia, holding her hand, sharing snippets of our past, was way worse than any of those other times. Because this time, I didn't want to get away.

  I wanted to do this forever, sharing hot dogs on Santa Monica Pier, pretending like we were just another couple. But we weren't. We couldn't be. Not when my future depended on staying away from her.

  "We should head back." I slurped the last of my soda and lobbed it in the trash.

  "Guess so." But she didn't move and I couldn't blame her.

  It had been fun playing hooky for a few hours, like we didn't have a care in the world. When we both knew better.

  "I'm going to talk to my dad," she said, so softly I had to lean closer to hear her. "Tell him about us."

  "No." I leapt to my feet and tugged my hand free from her grip. "Are you insane?"

  An elderly couple strolling nearby shot me a disapproving glare and I lowered my voice. "I'll be out on my arse as soon as he hears my name associated with yours."

  I paced a few steps before turning back, dread curdling the orange soft drink in my gut. "Don't you get it? I'm on my last chance. Screw this up and I'm dead."

  "Don't be so melodramatic." She stood and squared her shoulders, way too calm while I was freaking out. "We'll sort this out."

  I shook my head. "No way. There's nothing to sort." I gestured between us. "You and me? We're nothing."

  The moment the words slipped out I wished I could take them back. She looked stricken, like I'd slapped her.

  I tried again. "What I mean is—"

  "Didn't know you were a liar as well as a dipshit," she said, blinking rapidly.

  Ah fuck, I'd made her cry too.

  "What I meant to say was, we can't be anything to each other no matter how much we may want it." That sounded so lame.

  She stopped blinking and pinned me with a wide-eyed stare that made me want to cuddle her all night long. "Does that mean you want it?"

  "No … yes … fuck," I muttered, increasingly out of my depth.

  I knew what I wanted. I just couldn't have her at the risk of my career and disappointing my dad yet again. He was a good guy. Who'd taken a chance on a loser like me. I owed him and this time, I'd pay up.

  "I get it." She sounded so solemn and I wished we could revert to the happy, laughing couple we'd been an hour ago, cramming fairy floss and hot dogs into our mouths, joking around, carefree. "You're a chicken-shit as well as a liar."

  There was nothing remotely funny about this situation but I found myself smiling anyway. Mia was a hell of a woman. Smart and funny and willing to fight for us.

  She was right. I was a chicken-shit. But there were some things in life that couldn't be messed with and my future at the Cresswell Academy was one of them.

  I had to make her understand and to do that, I'd need to give her a snippet of the truth.

  "Was your dad around when you aced your first test? Your first ballet recital? Your graduation?"

  She nodded, eyeing me with wariness.

  "My dad wasn't. He didn't know I existed." I held out my hands, palms up, nothing to hide. "When Mum died and he turned up, I was resentful. He should've known about me. He should've been there for me."

  I fist-pumped my chest. "But it wasn't his fault that Mum kept me a secret. And when it counted, he stepped up."

  Inhaling a deep breath, I blew it out, buying time, hoping I could articulate half of what I was feeling without sounding like a dickhead. "He owed me nothing. But my dad made an effort to get to know me. He pulled strings for me. And even when I fucked up real bad, he still believed in me."

  I hesitated, hating that a lump had welled in my throat. "Me, the loser kid who lived over a strip club his whole life, who hung out with pimps. He didn't care about any of that or how it could damage his reputation. He committed to me."

  The burning in the back of my throat intensified but I'd be damned if I made a sissy of myself in front of a girl whose opinion mattered more than it should. "So think about all those times your dad was around for you, when he looked at you with pride."

  I pressed my palms to my chest. "That's what I want. For my dad to look at me like he's proud of me. That I'm more than some screw-up he wished he still didn't know about."

  A tear trickled down Mia's cheek, followed by another, and I bundled her into my arms before we were both bawling.

  "Do you get it now?" I murmured into her hair, burying my nose in the soft fruity fragrance, imprinting it on my memory.

  She didn't move for an eternity before I felt a gentle nod against my chest.

  Good. I'd made her understand.

  But at what cost?

  Chapter 14

  MIA

  Many people were intimidated by the great Dirk Cresswell.

  Not me. My dad was a pushover if I played him right. Not that I deliberately set out to fool him but like any daughter knows, make the big eyes, make the lower lip wobble just a tad and throw in a healthy dose of admiration in that wide-eyed stare, and most dads would do anything for their little girls.

  It had worked when I'd wanted to go camping with Dani at thirteen. It had worked when I'd wanted a convertible for my sixteenth. And it sure as hell better work now, when I needed to make my dad understand that Kye was a good guy, without tipping him off to how involved we already were.

  Not that Kye saw it that way. Uh-uh, he'd made it clear in no uncertain terms just how 'over' we were last night. I understood his reticence. His declaration from the heart about seeking his dad's approval had made me cry.

  But I didn't give up that easily.

  I'd seen his reluctance to leave me when we'd made it back to the academy last night, had seen how torn he was. He had feelings for me, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. And once he figured out my dad wasn't a big, bad ogre who'd kick him out on his ass if he found out about us, we could spend every spare moment together.

  His tennis career was important to him, I got it. And I didn't want to mess that up for him. But what I felt when I was with him? Indefinable.

  It wasn't just the sensational sex, which made me tingle just thinking about it. It was how he made me feel when I was with him: cherished, adored, and a little bit bad. When I was with Kye, I wasn't good girl Mia Cresswell, study nerd who achieved great grades but was lousy socially.

  I was Mia, who made him smile and laugh and hold me tight.

  I liked being just Mia. And I'd be damned if I sat back and did nothing, content to see Kye occasionally on the academy grounds but not much else.

  I spied my dad exactly where I thought he'd be this early in the morning: at the practice courts, watching his protégés hit out. Perfect. He'd be in a good mood, as morning was his favorite part of the day.

  "Guess who?" I covered his eyes with my hands, wondering if he'd remember the countless times I'd done this as a kid and how he'd deliberately make crazy guesses, each more outlandish than the last.

  "Hmm, let me see …" His hands covered mine, patting them. "Miley Cyrus? Lady GaGa? Katy Perry?"

  I laughed. "If that's your attempt at trying to sound trendy, Dad, it sucks."

  I lowered my hands and he spun around, embracing me in a bear hug that squeezed the air from my lungs.

  "How are you, Chickadee?" He released me and I stared at the man who'd raised me, the man who'd do anything for me, the only man in the world I truly trusted.

  I was hoping to add Kye to that exclusive list.

  "Fine, Dad. You?"

  "Never better." He gestured at the grass courts. "Keeping these guys on their to
es keeps me young."

  I glanced at the court and tried to hide my surprise at seeing Kye smashing returns as fast as a machine served up balls. Guess I wasn't the only one who'd had a sleepless night and he'd come down here at the crack of dawn too.

  "Looks like you've got some good prospects in this batch." I tried to sound casual and keep my gaze averted from Kye.

  My dad wasn't a fool and the last thing I needed before I'd laid down the groundwork was to alert him to the fact I was crazy for Kye.

  "Yeah, though time will tell." His eyes narrowed as he stared at Kye. "Not too sure about this one."

  Uh hell.

  "Kye?"

  My dad's head swiveled toward me, his glare suspicious. "You know him?"

  I made a split second decision to play it cool while delivering a semi-truth to test the waters. "Yeah, he seemed a little lost at your intro party the other night, so I showed him around LA yesterday."

  "That's not like you, playing tour guide to the jocks." A frown appeared between my dad's brows. "You know you don't have to do that."

  I shrugged. "I know, but I'm on vacation, and he seems nice, so I thought I'd do the right thing."

  If my trite answer appeased my dad's suspicions, he didn't show it. "Be careful of Sheldon. He may appear nice on the surface but he's got a past and I'd prefer you kept your distance."

  Uh-oh. This wasn't going to plan.

  I'd wanted to ease into a conversation about Kye, pave the way to gaining Dad's approval. Instead, he'd warned me off? Shit.

  "Dad, I'm not a little kid. I'm a pretty good judge of character and Kye seems—"

  "What did you do yesterday?" Way too astute, my dad's steely gaze swung from me to Kye and back again, as I valiantly hoped he couldn't read my feelings for Kye on my face.

  "Drove around and checked out the usual tourist spots in LA, then Santa Monica."

  I willed the heat suffusing my body not to flush my cheeks in a dead giveaway that we'd done much more than drive around.

  Sadly, I couldn't stop the blush and my dad's stare turned flinty. "Mia, you say you're a good judge of character but you know what guys on the circuit can be like."