Fuck. I can’t stand the way she is looking at me—expectant and needy, like she would get on her knees and beg to suck my cock. Above all, I can’t take the disappointment in her eyes. I have fully accepted now that I am developing feelings for her—that I have developed feelings for her. But I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, because now I know she has obviously been feeling similarly, and I have given her false hope.
“You okay?” I ask.
She turns her head away, picks up the flashlight, and starts playing with it. “Fine.”
“Bullshit.”
Her head snaps to me, her eyes menacingly hot. “I am.”
She says the words with conviction, but the slight flare in her nose tells me otherwise. I want to make her feel better, to take away her pain, and the only way I know how is to kiss her, which will make everything worse. But I can’t not kiss her. She is so fucking beautiful, and as much as she is trying to hide her sadness, she can’t. It is in her eyes, in the way she withdrew from me after I pushed her hand away.
“No, you aren’t.” With that, I am weak, and I clutch her chin. I pull her to my lips. She accepts … kisses me eagerly, her fingers running through my hair, pulling it like we are fucking. Oh my God, she drives me insane. Everything she does, she does with such passion. Our tongues move fluidly as I taste her mouth, my dick already rock hard. She sucks my bottom lip, as I imagine her sucking my cock instead. I push her back into the sand, briefly looking to see if anyone is around, but the only flashlights I see are far in the distance.
Her hair is fanned around her head, her tits still perky even with her on her back. Her legs part, and the soft fabric of her dress rolls up, allowing me to see her panties. Red lace. Fuck. She reaches for me, her hand tugging at my belt buckle. I help her loosen it, and unbutton my jeans. Lying on top of her, our lips crush together again, both of us hungry for this forbidden moment. I move against her, grinding my cock between her legs, feeling the heat of her pussy as I do.
She moans beneath me, and I support myself on my arms, hovering over her, watching her eyes roll back with every thrust. Her hips roll against me, and she moans quietly, obviously not wanting to be too loud considering we are in public. Her legs grip me, pressing me harder into her. I bring my mouth to her neck, my lips sucking her, licking her, before she pulls me to her mouth again.
Kissing her, being with her, is like finding money on the ground. You know you shouldn’t take it, but you do.
We pull away from each other, and I hover above, both of us staring intensely at one another, both full of need, and her dress moved up nearly to her breasts now.
“Make love to me, Brooks. I need it.” She rubs her pussy against me as she says it.
Damn, I would give anything to be inside her right now. To have no reason not to fuck her. But I have a million. As I stare at her, guilt begins to claw at me again. How the fuck did I end up here on what has turned into a romantic trip? This is fucked up. I am obviously drunk and not thinking straight. There is no way I can fuck her. Not now, not ever.
Before I realize it, I am lying on the sand next to her, my arm over my face. Her hand skims my jaw, in an effort of comfort, but also a show of confusion.
“Brooks?”
I am officially the biggest asshole I know, but I just can’t do it. I sit up, and brush the sand off my clothes. Then, I button and buckle my pants again, all the while avoiding eye contact with her. I don’t want to tell her I was wrong. I don’t want to hurt her.
“It’s late. I’m getting tired. We should get some sleep.”
She doesn’t say anything—only gives a single nod, and then stands up and brushes the sand from her own clothes before she picks up her heels. I put the flashlight in the bag, and we head back to the house. We don’t walk next to each other. Defensively, I walk at a faster pace than she does, feeling her eyes digging into me the entire way. When we are inside, I finally check my phone and have a text from Kate.
Hey. Did you die? Maybe this will bring you back to life? :)
Above her text is a picture of her tits, her tank top pulled up above them. My cock stiffens at the sight, but it isn’t because of Kate. Sadly, it only makes me think of what I could have done to Emily down by the water, or even right in this room. But I can’t. I have to push thoughts of us out of my head.
I respond to Kate with a simple Nice.
That’s the rum talking, she says.
Keep drinking. :)
I look up to see Emily’s head peeking around the wall from the living area, her large blue eyes floating to my phone. I put my phone away, but try to do so in a way that won’t demonstrate guilt. Jesus. Only a few hours ago, we were nothing but two people who shared lust and connection. Now it is like we are halfway down the fucking aisle.
“You need anything?” I ask her, as she steps toward the kitchen. When she comes into full view, my heart plummets into my stomach.
“You,” she whispers, as my eyes scan her naked body.
My breath hitches. My eyes move to her breasts, so perfect and dimly lit—the shadow that bathes them arousing me as it contours their round fullness. I don’t resist allowing my eyes to skate over the rest of her body. Her stomach, smooth and tight, gives way to the softness of her pussy. It is bare, her inner lips peeking out, begging me to suck and taste them.
I don’t speak. I stand and watch her, stunned at her beauty, the toned legs she stands on. She knows I am weak, so the exaggerated swing of her hips as she turns to reach for a glass in the cabinet almost angers me. Sweet Jesus, her ass is exquisite. I would love to get my hands on it, spread it when she is on all fours, trail my tongue between it as she fucks herself with a vibrator.
She walks to the fridge, fills her glass, and leans against the counter, everything in perfect view. She rests on her elbows, provocatively sipping that drink, swaying her ass teasingly before craning her head to look at me.
“Come to bed,” she commands, sex on her tongue, ideas in her head.
My phone chimes again. I ignore it, but then it chimes again and again and a fourth time. “Uh, one sec...” It is Kate again, this time her pussy spread open.
My eyes move to Emily again, and I see it. I am fucking her up. She is different from yesterday. A change has taken place, and I have to make myself back off. This is life-ruining shit.
A fallout between Deacon and me could mean the crumbling of Jansen Brewing. Without his father’s litigation skills, I truly believe my family would have lost everything in recent years. He has kept my parents and the business out of some sticky situations, has helped them avoid some complicated allegations that befall even the best of companies. Since dinner, my mind has been swimming with possibilities, and I can’t envision a situation where Emily and I could see each other and I could retain Deacon’s friendship.
And that would mean the loss of Mr. Sanders.
“I’m not going to beg you,” she hisses.
Despite what my dick wants, what I want, I do the only thing I know to do. I try to piss her off so this will stop. If she hates me, it will be easy. There will be no threat of anything other than avoiding a lot of complication.
I laugh. A cocky smirk lines my face as I say, “Get some sleep, Emily.”
And then I leave her—standing there, naked and wide-eyed. I walk to my room and shut the door. I try to convince myself it is for the best, but end up tossing and turning all night.