“God, I really hate you.” She shoves my chest with her free hand and I grip it and hold it in place, our eyes locking on one another.
I don’t know what I am more drunk off, her or the whiskey, but I find myself desperate to know what she tastes like, what her tongue feels like against mine, what sounds she would make as I explored her body. Her eyes flick down to my lips and I watch as she subconsciously bites hers. Fuck I want to do that. I feel myself swelling beneath my sweats and I know she needs to leave before I do something fucking stupid.
I clear my throat, “You should go to bed now, Red.”
Her eyes snap up to mine. “Why?” She whispers hoarsely, and her voice almost has me coming undone.
“Because it’s 2am. Because I’m drunk. And because my bad ideas are looking a little too good right now.” I hear her breath hitch at my words, and just for a second she looks intrigued by the idea.
It’s a dangerous look, a tempting one. “What? Do you think you could make me bad, Playboy?” She’s teasing me, but she shouldn’t, not unless she is ready for me to really unleash the playboy side of me on her.
I use her hands gripped in mine to roll her quickly onto her back and relish in the sharp intake of her breath. I lean over her small frame, my hands on either side of her head as I bring my mouth to her ear. “Oh, I’d make you so bad for me, Red.” I skim the smooth skin of her neck with my nose as her chest rises and falls rapidly. “You’d be screaming my name so loud that Dicky would hear it from five hours away.”
She pants, “You really are gonna suffocate under that huge ego one day.” Her words come out forced and breathless.
“Thought we’d already established the one huge thing about me, Riles.” I smile as I press my thick length into her leg and her eyes flare wide.
“Oh my god,” she squeals, pushing me off with a panicked shove and I laugh. “I really do hate you, Jace Conrad.” She chokes out, and for the first time in months I smile up at the stars.
“No you don’t, Riley Decker.”
28
Riley
My dreams were swarmed with images of Jace leaning above me, his firm, tattooed frame trapping me in place as I tried to pretend that I don’t remember the feel of his hard dick pressing into my leg. The thoughts it awoke in me were ungodly, though I’m sure if I acted on them I’d be shouting for the Lord. I shouldn’t be thinking about him in this way. He is Sofia’s brother, a shameless playboy flirt who partakes in group sex, and I literally just lost my virginity and then broke up with my boyfriend. He is not the guy for me.
I dance on the pier for almost two hours and still I can’t get him out of my mind, and as I walk back up to the cabin and see his shirtless frame through the kitchen windows I pray to God to give me strength. I climb up the steps, taking slow deep breaths to try and pull some air into my lungs, which proves completely redundant when I push inside and the object of my late night fantasies turns and flashes me his flirty smile.
“Morning, Riles.” He makes no secret of checking me out as he lets his eyes drag over my sweat-soaked form before coming back to my face. “Coffee?”
My tongue has grown in my mouth making it impossible to talk so I just nod, stepping up to the breakfast bar and putting my phone and headphones down onto the counter between us. He pours me a cup of coffee and adds the perfect amount of sugar and cream before sliding it over to me. I frown, wondering how he knows how I take my coffee, but when I look at him he just shrugs.
The silence lingers as I struggle to say something that isn’t to do with his perfect six pack on show, and he must feel the tension because he asks, “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” I snap quickly. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, you’re acting weird, is this about last night?” I panic at the mention of last night, and again think about how hard and thick his dick felt against my leg. Jace huffs, “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have unloaded on you about Taylor like that.”
I blanch out of my inappropriate thoughts, he’s apologizing because he thinks I’m being weird after he told me about the fact he saw Taylor get killed. I mean of course he is, that’s what a normal person would fixate on, not the feeling of his fucking magical orgy penis! I need serious help. Where the hell is my mom? Can’t she sense that I’m in crisis and in need of a therapist!
“Jace.” He is staring at the floor now avoiding my gaze, so I round the counter and turn him until he has no choice but to look down at me. “I’m glad you told me about Taylor, you can always talk to me about anything, I promise,” I smile, hoping he can see how serious I am being and not sense my sex-crazed thoughts. “I’m sorry if you felt like that, I’m just,” I pause, not sure how to articulate it. “I’m just having a weird morning, but it’s all me I swear.”
He finally nods. “Okay,” he blows out a breath as if relieved, and it settles something inside of me that I can affect him in such a way.
The tension between us now is even thicker than last night, and when he grabs a box and pulls out a Twinkie to eat I aim to try and settle things. "I can't believe you eat those things."
His eyes widen. "Are you crazy, they're delicious!" He takes a huge obnoxious bite and leans in close to my face to chew it.
I shove him away. "No. They're gross and filled with sugar."
He rolls his eyes as he leans on the counter. "Yeah well when you go two days without eating and a Twinkie is all you have, you learn to like them." His face hardens as soon as he lets the words slip, and I can tell he didn't mean to get so personal. I hate how he awaits the pity from me, so instead of giving it to him I sigh.
"Fine, gimme the damn Twinkie." I hold out my hand with my eyebrows raised, waiting for him to give it to me.
He smiles, "Hell no, Red, this one's mine."
I move to grab it from him but he holds it out of my reach, "I'm pretty sure it was you who told me sharing is caring."