Page 60 of Cannon
He takes my wrists in his hands, pressing them to the mattress over my head. Steadily, our bodies move together, and his eyes search mine for several seconds before he catches my mouth with his and kisses me slow and soft and with so much devotion, it makes me ache. “I don’t do this with other girls.” Moving from my mouth, his lips trail over my cheek, then down my neck to where my pulse flutters for him. He runs his tongue over it, moaning as he continues to stroke into my body. “Don’t look at them. Don’t let myself feel,” he gasps out, our pace becoming more and more frantic. Undisciplined. Out of control.
“It’s okay, to need someone, Kingston,” I pant. “To be close to someone.”
He nods, breathless. His eyes are a little wild as he stares into mine before he takes my mouth in a soul-searing kiss. It’s rooted partly in sadness but also in hope.
And it’s beautiful.
The sound of our passion fills the room, and the friction between us soon becomes too much, the coiled tension deep inside me beginning to unfurl inside me in throbbing, overwhelming waves of pleasure. “Yes. Oh. Oh, fuck y-yes,” I stutter out, the intense bliss washing over me.
The way Kingston is maintaining up close and personal eye contact with me right now when he couldn’t come close to it before—it’s my absolute undoing. In this moment, I only see him and the pain he’s lived through… and how far he’s come. There’s something honest and real between us. He’s under my skin. In my blood. In the very cells that make me up. And I think he’s in my heart, too.
He lets go of my wrists and clutches my body to him as he slows, thrusting twice more as his jaw slackens and he lets go, groaning in undeniable ecstasy.
I wind my fingers through his hair, feeling the thundering of his heart against mine. “I’m terrified of how much I need you,” I whisper, sharing what’s in my heart, despite how vulnerable it makes me feel.
“I need you, too. And I’m not going anywhere.” He hesitates, pressing a kiss to my forehead before pulling out and tucking himself back into his pants. As I sit up, he squats in front of me, resting a hand on each of my thighs. He slides his tongue over his lower lip and takes a quick breath. Tilting his head to the side, he squints a bit at me. “I, um… Elle, we haven’t discussed some of what went on last night.”
From the way he’s circling around the topic, I’m dead sure he’s not talking about the foursome. “Archer?”
Letting a gust of air blow past his lips, he finally nods. “Yeah.” He’s quiet another few seconds, and I don’t think he’s fully aware of how hard he’s biting down on his lip. “I, uh—” He looks away, and for a moment, it appears he’s lost in thought. “Elle, I need you to know that regardless of what I’m discovering I feel for Archer, that doesn’t in any way diminish my feelings for you.”
I meet his pale-green gaze and see in its depths that he means every word. Hoping to ease his mind, I murmur, “You and Archer have seemed close since the minute I met you. I won’t deny I was a little surprised by the physical aspect of it, but…” I can’t keep the smile off my face. “It was totally hot. That kiss?” I cover my lips with my fingers. “Holyshit.”
A flush I’ve never seen before on Kingston creeps up his neck and hits his cheeks, brightly staining them. “But you’re not weirded out?”
I chew on my lip, brow furrowed, taking in the redness in his cheeks. “What would I freak out over—you being into more than one person? Or the fact that it’s a guy?”
The corners of his mouth turn down, a line etching itself down the middle of his forehead. “Both, I guess. Either? Elle—”
I hold a hand up and give a small shake of my head. “You know what? I think we’re all kinda making our way and doing what feels right. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what vibe I was getting from Archer, but it all makes total sense to me now.” I eye him steadily. “Are you okay about it? Everything that happened? Because I’m seriously fine with it.”
“Yeah.” He stops, his features contorting like he’s still working through it. “I think part of it is both of us wanting you… and Cannon, of course. But—” He sucks in a breath. “Yeah. I don’t know. It kinda hit me at the auction last night, seeing Archer hurt and how upset he was after…” He looks into my eyes. “I could hardly explain it to myself, but it felt…right.”
I bite my lip. “I get it. Have you talked tohimabout it?”
His teeth grind. “I mean, it didn’t feel fuckin’ awkward to me this morning or anything. But no, we haven’t. And the longer we don’t, the more I’m worried he’ll think it was a mistake.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
ELLIOT
At ten minutes to nine—becauseI refuse to be the last one to arrive and let any of the brothers think for a single second I’m going to be a no-show—I wander downstairs with my favorite running shoes on my feet, steel strengthening my nerves, and ice pounding in my veins. I will do whatever it takes to win this damn game tonight.
Other than being told to use my brain and wear appropriate footwear, I’m anxious as to what to expect. We’ve had a panty raid, sensory deprivation at a freakin’ creepy house, and… now what? I shake my head as I make my way into the living area where we’d gathered before each of the previous games.
Taggart and Bridger lounge on the sofas with the juniors and sophomores, shooting the shit. Most of them, anyway. Poor Taggart seems a little on edge. From the arm of the couch he’s perched on, he offers me a nervous smile, then goes right back to wiping his palms over the fabric of his athletic shorts.Yeah, buddy. I’m anxious, too.
My gaze wanders the room and finally lands on Bridger. He appears completely unaffected by the possibilities of what might go down tonight. That rat bastard straight-up leers at me, then without looking away, covers his mouth to say something to Alec, who throws his head back and laughs.Whatever.I can’t afford to waste brain energy on him and his antics tonight, but I for sure expect he’ll do something to fuck with me.
From there, my eyes land on the coffee table, or more specifically, what’s on top of it. My mind whirs back to the first game. The backpacks have been replaced with a bottle of whiskey, three shot glasses, some white scraps of paper, and a few Sharpie markers.
Oh, shit.
Archer comes up behind me, hooking his arm around my neck. “You ready, Peaches?”
I give him a smile that’s far more confident than how I feel. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Fair enough.” He shoots me an encouraging wink as he lets go of me. “You’ll know soon enough.”
