Chapter 10

I wasn’t sure what Cain was suggesting and I didn’t want to ask. Well, I did want to ask. I wanted to press for details, for a better explanation. For boundaries and clarity. But that would mess it up, because he wasn’t going to give me that. I didn’t think he even knew precisely what he was offering or suggesting. I wasn’t sure he was even sober.

So I was going to just let it ride. Just enjoy whatever he was offering for as long as I could without being a freak about it. Because I liked Cain. I really, really liked him. Being around him was easy. Fun. So damn sexy. Everything he did was sexy. The way he moved, the way he talked. The way he looked at me and touched me. It was all just hot.

“Can I take pictures of you naked?” I asked. “You know, for later sexting.”

“That’s not how sexting works. You’re not going to send me a picture of myself later.”

He had a point. “Okay. Well, can I just take a naked picture of you in case I want to masturbate back at school?”

Cain had been drinking from the bottle of water and he actually spit it out on a huge laugh. It sprayed over the railing and all down his chest. “Holy hell, Soph. Give me some warning first.”

“What? It was an honest question.” I really thought I would enjoy that.

“Yes, you can take a naked picture of me. But I don’t want a naked picture of you because I don’t trust that cloud shit. I don’t want some pervert somewhere looking at pictures of your body.”

“But you don’t care if your naked pictures are in the cloud?”

He shrugged. “Not in the slightest. It’s not like I have a future political career I might be jeopardizing.”

“Only if you’re sure. And you don’t feel that I am objectifying you.”

“You can objectify me all you want as long as you do that thing you do with your tongue afterward.”

“What thing?” I did a tongue thing? I was surprised my mother hadn’t pointed that out as well.

“Yes. You lick your lip. It makes me hard.”

“Maybe I need lip balm.” I wasn’t aware I did that. I touched my lips to check for moisture. Normal levels.

“Maybe you need my dick.”

I opened my mouth to question how that would solve the problem when Cain put his hand over my lips.

“Shh. It isn’t supposed to make sense. It’s called sexual innuendo.”

“I knew that.” I did. Now that I thought about it. It just always seemed so silly to me before. But with Cain, silly or not, it was sexual. It was an obvious innuendo. And like any other woman it got me hot. “Though actually, that was too obvious to be innuendo.”

“My favorite smart-ass.” He drank from the water bottle. “Sit down.” He gestured to a chair and took the other one. He sat back with a relaxed sigh.

Personally, I didn’t want to sit on metal with my bare legs when it was only in the upper sixties so I stayed standing. “Aren’t you cold?” I asked.

“Nope. Are you? Come sit on my lap.” He moved his eyebrows up and down and patted his legs.

I wanted to say that was ridiculous and that I would never do that. That I didn’t understand why at twenty-four I would perch like a child on a man’s lap, but then I realized that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t practical. It was intimate. It wasn’t what a hookup did. It was what a man who was suggesting something maybe more might also suggest in order to encourage that maybe something more.

So I went and gingerly sat on his leg, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Turn around so you can see the view.”

I saw the view all the time. I would have preferred to look at him. That was a nice view to me. But he was already settling me between his thighs and turning me around. I leaned my head back against his chest, and his arms came around me, big and strong and warm. It should have felt oppressive. But it just felt wonderful. Comforting.

We sat in silence. The good kind. It was starting to get darker, murkier, over the water. Unlike Bella, I liked the sound of the waves. Because of the constant reliability of it. There was nothing random about the tides and I respected that. It was soothing. I relaxed even farther into Cain’s embrace.

“Why do you like math?” he asked after a minute. “What do you think it is about it that appeals to you?”

This was an easy question. “Because every equation can be solved. There are answers. Mathematics is orderly. It’s not nebulous. I don’t do well with nebulous.”

“I don’t even know what the fuck nebulous means but I do get what you’re saying.” His breath tickled my temple. “You seem like a girl who needs answers. We’ve talked about this before.”

“Yes, we have. And you said there aren’t answers. That you just have to deal with it.” I wanted to ask about Camp, but I didn’t want to push him to share what he didn’t want to. So I tried to hint. “I can understand your perspective now.”

“Why, because you’ve seen my messy underbelly? My lack of control over my emotions?”

I thought about that. Did he mean his drinking? I couldn’t say that I had seen him wildly out of control. He seemed contained, controlled, with me. “No. I don’t think you’re as messy as you think you are. I just meant because there will never be a conclusive answer for Camp’s paternity.”

“I don’t want to talk about that, Sophie,” he murmured.

He didn’t sound angry. Just sad. “But if you want to, you can.” Counseling wasn’t my forte but I wanted him to understand I was sympathetic.

“I don’t. You may be able to control your emotions but I need to ignore them or things will get ugly.”

I tried to glance behind me. “What makes you think I can control my emotions?”

“Because you’re you. You’re too smart to let emotions get the best of you. You are ruled by logic.”

Now I twisted fully so I could see him, study his face in the shadows. “I’m not a sociopath or a Vulcan. I have feelings. Lots of them. More than I want.” Especially with him. He drew out feelings in me that weren’t precisely welcome.

He studied me, his grip tightening on me. “I’m sorry. That sounded shitty. What are you feeling, Sophie Bigelow?”

I could give a detailed response. I could list all the emotions running through me, of which there were plenty. Contentment, desire, giddiness, excitement, some confusion, a little doubt.

But I settled for the most prevalent. “Happy. That’s how I feel right now. With you.”

For a second Cain didn’t speak and I wondered if I had pushed it too far. If I had made him uncomfortable. If he knew it was well and truly no longer just a hookup for me anymore.

But then he said, “Me too, Red. Me too.”

---

My first thought was panic. Then it was to fuck Sophie, take it back to sex. Strip her down and avoid emotion. Avoid it like the goddamn plague.

But that wasn’t fair to do to her. And it wasn’t particularly manly. It was a pussy move and if there was one thing Sophie brought out in me besides desire, it was the urge to be a better man.

So instead of bolting or redirecting to sex, I just held Sophie and enjoyed the touch of another human being.

This didn’t have to be like the pain of holding Camp.

It could heal instead of wound.

It could be the simple connection between two souls wandering around mostly alone.

Yet, that was the problem.

Sophie relaxed against me, sharing her feelings, stirred up a need I didn’t know I had. A need to protect. To love.

I sat there as long as I could before the urge to run got too strong. It heated and boiled and rose until I couldn’t sit still. My foot tapped. My hand shook. My teeth ground together. I had to escape. I needed to breathe and I needed a goddamn drink.

“Up,” I said without warning, tapping her on the hip. “I need to piss.”

I didn’t really but it was a good excuse. I needed a second to get my shit together. “I’m going to grab another water too. Is that cool?”

“Sure. You want me to show you to the kitchen?”

“Nah. I can find it.” I was already into her room, striding toward the bedroom door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Run away. Run, run, motherfucker. I hated my reaction but I couldn’t stop it. I needed to get out. I ran down the grand staircase and padded my way across the house. Motion sensors beeped and I wondered briefly if I was on security cameras in my underwear. Probably.

Whatever.

In the kitchen I pulled open the fridge and found bottled water. But then I opened the freezer, hoping there might be vodka in there. Not my drink, but no one would notice if I just put a finger in my bottle. Nothing but frozen strawberries and a pint of fake ice cream. The low-calorie shit.

I turned around, blindly, forcing myself to breathe deeply. In and out, damn it. I could do this.

I came virtually face-to-face with Sophie’s sister. I schooled my expression. “Hey, Bella. Nice to see you.”

She had jumped a little and now she was holding her hand over her heart. “Crap, you scared me. What are you doing? Where is Sophie?”

She said it like possibly I had murdered her sister and now wanted a drink of water. “In her room. I was thirsty.”

For a long second she just stared at me. She was wearing a tank top and tiny little sleep shorts. Bella was beautiful. No denying it. Long legs. Big tits. Classic facial features. But she did nothing for me now. Not a damn thing. So I stared her down. I refused to be made uncomfortable.

Sophie wanted me there.

Finally, she looked away. “If you want a real drink I can show you the liquor cabinet.”

“Is that a trick question?” It seemed too much to expect her to be generous with me.

“What? No. But I don’t think you were looking for ice cream in the freezer.”

I shrugged. She was right about that. “Bella, you know the way to win a man over.”

That made her scoff. “Right. Sure, I do.”

For a second she looked vulnerable. Upset. But then she smiled and gestured. “This way. The booze is in the bar.”

Music to my ears. “An actual home bar?”

“Yes. My mother thinks it’s tacky. But my father wanted an English pub.”

I followed her across the room and down a dark hallway. I really should have gone upstairs and retrieved a shirt or my pants, but the call of the bottle was stronger than the need for convention. She opened a door and flicked on the light. And damn, if we weren’t in an English pub. “This is a lot of wormy chestnut.”

“What is wormy chestnut?”

“Wood.”

“Oh.” Bella made a face. “Grab a drink, whatever you want.”

Something was off here. It still felt like a setup. Eyeing the shelves I saw brands and bottles I had never seen before in my life. Expensive bottles, no doubt. I wasn’t going to reach out and inadvertently drink some thousand-dollar scotch. “What are you having?”

“A glass of wine.”

In the midst of an impressive full-length bar, there was a wine chiller. She opened it and pulled out a bottle of chardonnay. Bella seemed older, less vapid, than she had the night I met her. Tonight she wasn’t interested in having fun. She looked shrewd and tired.

“I’ll have a glass of wine, then.”

Hell, I’d already sucked down my mother’s boxed wine, so what was another glass? Besides, it seemed more polite than just plowing through her father’s expensive whiskey, because I wasn’t known for leaving it at one small drink. Plus, there was no way in hell I was going to just reach around and start helping myself. I wasn’t raised in a fucking barn.

“You don’t look like a wine drinker.”

She was right. But it still annoyed me. I didn’t like the way I was feeling. I had wanted to escape my mother’s house. Then Sophie’s room. And now I wanted to escape this fake pub that reminded me of who I was and who I wasn’t. A drunk. And not good enough for Sophie. “Then give me a whiskey. Or wine. Or nothing. It’s fine.”

“Touchy, touchy.” She expertly opened the bottle with a corkscrew. She pulled out two glasses from a cabinet. “I really wish you were wearing pants right now. I don’t know where to look.”

Ah. Maybe that’s why she was so stiff herself. I made her uncomfortable. I wasn’t all that comfortable here either. I felt exposed, in every way. “I’ll stay on this side of the bar. But didn’t you go to college?” I asked. “I thought everyone ran around in their underwear in dorms. That’s the way they make it seem in movies and TV.”

Bella gave a laugh. “I went to a boring college. No one was doing that.”

“That’s good to know. And here I thought I had missed out on the best years of a guy’s life.” I was joking. I had never had a desire to extend my education, even with the promise of dorm parties.

“You didn’t go to college?”

I eyed Bella over the bar. “You know I didn’t go to college.”

She gave me a look of bullshit innocence. “How would I know that? I don’t go making assumptions about people.” She handed me the glass.

I lifted it and drained it in two swallows.

“Oh, my goodness.” She eyed me uneasily. “Do you want more?”

“Sure.” I shrugged.

Bella took the glass back from me and set it down so she could pour. “Listen, I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all of that.”

I knew where this was going. “But…stay away from your sister?” That didn’t offend me. I knew that Bella had thought it was cute for Sophie to flirt with me. But to be hanging around, seeing her night after night? That was a hell no. Not what she would want for her sister, and I could respect that.

Bella bit her lip delicately. “Something like that. Sophie is very emotionally immature. She doesn’t know how to do what you are doing.”

That was interesting. And irritating. “And what is it that I’m doing?”

“Just having fun. She sees things as black-and-white.”

Exactly. “Which is why she understands what we’re doing.” That seemed obvious to me. Sure, maybe we were slightly muddying the waters by continuing to see each other, but I did not doubt for a minute that Sophie would tell me exactly what she was thinking at all times.

“If you look at her experience dating, Sophie is basically fifteen.”

That made me rub my jaw as she poured me more wine. “I don’t know a lot of fifteen-year-olds who can suck dick like that.”

Bella’s mouth dropped open and she gasped. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe you just said that!”

“Well, it’s true. She’s not a little kid. She’s an adult, getting her PhD in mathematics. Give me a break. She doesn’t need you treating her like a kid.” I reached over and took the glass from her hand and repeated my earlier chugging.

“Sophie doesn’t know men like I do.”

I set the glass down and turned around. “Thanks for the drink, Bella. It was a pleasure to see you again.” I gave her a wave and sauntered out of there, no longer caring that I was in my underwear. Her attitude toward Sophie had pissed me off the night we met and even more so now. Bella thought she had the market cornered on relationships.

She was failing to recognize that Sophie knew what she wanted and Sophie was always honest. It would weed out most of the dickheads who were playing games. Her straightforward approach would turn off flirts and charmers. She didn’t need her sister’s well-meaning and mostly arrogant advice.

Bella didn’t say a word to me as I left.

When I got back to Sophie’s room she was sitting on her bed with her knees up, back against the headboard. She had shed the robe and was looking at her phone.

“Checking your social media?” I asked. “What’s going on in the world of brag and bait?”

“I’m reading an article on the science of attraction. Did you know that if I think you smell good we have a fifty percent greater chance of sustaining a relationship?”

I wasn’t sure what exactly she meant by sustaining a relationship, given that we weren’t in one. Unless she meant our physical connection. “That’s a shitty statistic given that you think I stink.”

She glanced up at me and smiled. “That was just today. The first time you kissed me I thought you smelled sexy.”

It was ridiculous that it even mattered to me. I crawled up the bed. “Sorry I was gone so long. Your sister was in the kitchen.”

“Oh, damn.” Sophie put her phone down on the nightstand. “That must have been awkward since you’re not wearing pants.”

She didn’t look concerned about it though, really. She looked almost amused. My secret naughty girl. She might just be as much the black sheep of her family as I was of mine.

“It was a little awkward for me,” I said truthfully. “But only because I care about your feelings. Personally I don’t give a fuck. But she seemed a little shocked. She also warned me you’re emotionally immature.”

Sophie made a sound of exasperation. “That’s insulting. But typical. Apparently, knowing how to match your heels to your cocktail dress is the key factor in being considered emotionally together.”

That sounded like an accurate assessment of Bella. “I told her I didn’t agree with her. That you know exactly what you want.”

“I do,” she said confidently. “Which is more than I can say for my sister, honestly.”

“I thought she was getting married next week.” I took her hand and laced her fingers through mine. “Cold feet?”

“I think that her fiancé is a douchebag. I’m starting to think she might be aware of that fact herself and just a tiny bit concerned. But there is no way she’ll call this wedding off.”

“No?” I was distracted by her legs, which were brushing against mine. She had cute little knees. Just perfect skin. Everything about her so curvy and feminine. I rocked her knee back and forth until her legs fell open.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

I nudged her with my shoulder. “You know what I’m doing.” I turned and gave her a smirk. “You can’t pretend to be innocent anymore.” My buzz had never entirely gone away and the two glasses of chardonnay had given me a warm confidence. “But there is something we still need to do.”

“What’s that?” she asked, biting her lip.

Damn, I loved it when she did that. “On your knees, please.”

Sophie thought a minute. Then she went on her knees. But not all fours. Just her knees.

“Smart-ass.” I ran my hand over the curve of her delicious little booty. “Speaking of asses, what I meant was get on your hands and knees. Which I know you knew.”

She gave me a sly little smile over her shoulder. “You said on my knees. I’m on my knees.”

I felt heady, my cock already hard, my desire for her urgent and rough. As rough as I was, the guy who had no business being in this house. Being with this girl. But before it all got taken away from me, I was going to take what I could get. I wanted to remember her every possible way I could. I gripped the back of her head, twisting my hand into her hair. She gasped.

“Down on all fours.” I pushed her forward.

Her breath hitched but she obeyed. Her T-shirt rode up a little. I peeled her panties down over her hips, lifting her legs one at a time to remove the lace panties entirely. “You have the best body,” I said, running my palms over her hips. “And this position really shows it off. It makes me crazy.”

“I don’t know if I like this,” she said, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “I don’t like not seeing you.”

My nostrils flared. Ironic, her words. Because no one ever wanted to see me. Not really. I was easy to dismiss. Easy to ignore. Disregard.

My plan had been to take her hard from behind, maybe tug her hair a little, smack that sweet, tender ass. But how could I do that when she had such a sweet, simple thing to say?

So I shoved her down, onto her stomach. She gasped. When I rolled her, her hair spilling over her face and neck, her eyes were wide. I yanked on her by the ankles, dragging her to the edge of the bed. Then I lifted her legs, which forced her to open farther for me, her ass lifting a little off the bed.

“What are you doing?” She looked like she didn’t know where to put her arms.

“Putting your feet on my shoulders.”

For a second I thought she would argue with me. Her mouth opened as if to question or protest. But then she was just obedient, allowing me to position her as I wanted. I decided I didn’t want her on my shoulders. I wanted to grip her ankles, a little bit of a hogtie, and I surged into her that way.

“Oh, my God,” she said, looking shocked.

All I could think as my hard cock slid in and out of her tight heat was if I had a hundred nights with Sophie I would fuck her a hundred different ways, then start all over again.

And never get tired of her.