Authors: Brooklyn Skye
Her eyes widen as she glances out to the empty canyon around us, and then a laugh bursts out of her. “Really?”
I shrug. “Up to you. But I have a feeling I know what kind of
touching
you’re on fire for, and it doesn’t include the obstruction of denim.” A relaxed grin spreads across her face, and I pop the button on her jeans loose.
Then slide the zipper down…very slowly.
As she crawls over me, I tug her pants lower, lower, lower until milky-smooth bare legs slip past my head. I turn over on the reclined front seat, and directly behind me, situated with her back to the seat and her almost-bare body glowing like a beacon, Cam crooks one finger, summoning me to join her.
Oh, she thinks she’s in charge?
Well, two can play that game.
“Cambria…” I draw out her name on my tongue, noticing a tiny crinkle of surprise form on her forehead, and holy shit if that doesn’t jolt my insides like a key jammed into a light socket.
“Krister…,” she challenges, at the same time positioning her legs miles apart so I’m staring directly at the tiny triangle of black silk between her toned muscles.
Pulling my knees beneath me, I sit up, raking my eyes over her. Bottom to top. “Do I have permission to make you scream my name?”
“Only if I can return the favor.”
And then I pounce, quickly hooking my
grip under her knees and dragging her hips toward me. Goose bumps sprout over her skin as I trail my fingers up her thighs, and if there were any hesitation or guilt from what I’m about to do floating through me, seeing her reaction of my skin on hers completely wipes it away
.
Gently
, I snatch the sides of her underwear and scrape them past her knees to the floor, and then she is entirely mine for the taking. “Jesus, you’re beautiful,” I say, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss. “So goddamn gorgeous.” My tongue sweeps across her lip, and she opens instantly, meeting my need to taste her thoroughly with just as much vigor. Up my back, her nails score a path between my shoulder blades and I hope it leaves a mark. Evidence that—in the morning—will prove this wasn’t a dream.
The trail of her touch snakes up and over my shoulder, down my arm, and then she grips my wrist, pulling my hand from her face, and guides it past her stomach to her—
Holy. Fuck. She’s sopping.
I know I promised her “touching,” but with the feel of her heat against my fingers I suddenly get another urge. One that, I suppose, could still fall into that category. I withdraw my hand and swipe the tip of my finger—glistening with her juices—across her bottom lip. Before she has a chance to react, I lick the trail then suck her lip into my mouth.
“One taste of you is not enough.”
She clutches the sides of my head firmly, and says with an intense glint in her eye, “So take another.” To punctuate her words, she takes my hand and wraps those full lips around my finger.
Hot damn, she doesn’t have to say that twice.
With my other arm around her back, I stretch her out across the backseat and settle between her legs. Her hips roll forward as my hands grab her ass, a silent reassurance that this is definitely acceptable to her.
I lower slowly, watching the anticipation play out on her face, lip caught between her teeth and eyes doe wide. That is, until my tongue licks her folds in a warm, wet stripe.
“Oh!”
Inside I smile. Right now, she is like putty in my hands, and knowing I have that power spurs a beat of energy coursing throughout my entire body. And then I do it again, painfully slow, back to front, front to back, swirling my tongue over her clit until her eyes unfocus and her legs begin to tremble.
Cramped in the tiny backseat, my heartbeat is pulsing everywhere—my hea
d, my ears, my throat…in my jeans.
Pull back, man
.
While Cambria’s obviously trying to be a distraction to me and my horrendous day, this has to be only about her because one: I’m not going to fuck this girl in the back of Wrenn’s P.O.S when she deserves to be worshiped for all hours of the night, and, two: I’m not going to fuck this girl, period. Even though I have undressed her multiple times in my head, each time in extra-slow motion and pictured that auburn hair sprawled out over my pillow, I’m not worthy of having her completely.
“
Krister,” she says, low and with an edge that pleads for me to touch her. To do much
much
more to her.
“I know.” My words echo in the cab
, sharp and biting, but the gentleness of the touch that follows—my fingers unfolding, sliding along her wet clit—draws out gasp after gasp from her.
She
raises her hips into my hand, my mind telling my heart to slow the fuck down. I’ve done this hundreds of times with who knows how many girls, and while Cambria is by far one of the most beautiful, my hand shouldn’t be shaking at this very moment. I stroke her over and over until sweat glistens on her skin and my name tumbles off her lips.
Another swipe directly up the center, and her breath catches. “In,” she blurts on an exhale, not blushing at all at what she’s demanding
. My tongue backtracks, retracing its path, and she sucks in another ragged breath. “Deep. Me.
Now
.”
I laugh
, gliding the tip of one finger over her entrance. “Like this?” Her eyes start to roll back, and she reaches for my hand as if she were desperate for me to jam the damn thing in when I snatch up her wrist and pin her arm overhead. I lean forward, lowering my mouth to hers.
“I think…,” she says against my
lips with a slight growl, “you’re very slowly killing me.”
The word
killing
scorches me like a hot punty. I don’t want her to hurt in any way, even if it’s like this. Before she has a chance to ask why I’ve frozen, I descend at lightning speed, pressing our mouths together. I suck in her tongue just as my finger dives into her. With my other hand, I cup her face, smoothing the back of my hand over her features as I watch my touch tip her over the edge.
“
Krister…,” she says, her head thrown back, face smooth and content.
The sound of my name on her lips t
riggers a warm ache in my chest; the kind that will linger like a bruise long after this is over.
A silent minute passes, and then she reaches for the button of my jeans. I stop her hand, entwining my fingers with hers. She gives me a questioning look, and I shake my head.
“Another time,” I say and kiss her again, noticing something I didn’t before. The bodies of the rabbits on her tattoo, which I thought were solid black, are speckled with the pale color of her skin.
She catches me staring and holds out her arm for me to see. “I’m in the process of getting it removed. It’ll take a few months though.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
She shakes her head, a solemn smile twisting her lips. “Yeah…it’s, um, sort of from a time I want to forget.”
She said she got it when she was seventeen, which means she got it when her mom was still alive. Things like that people usually want to hold on to. But I don’t want to bring that up.
Chapter Thirteen
“Trying to come up with more excuses to touch me
?” Cambria looks over at me with a glint in her eye. It seems every decision I make lately is revolved around seeing this look, this barely noticeable sign that tells me she’s not thinking about her mom’s death. And me, too, not thinking about the crash. It’s what’s driven me to see this girl every day for the last week.
I park the Camry
then shut off the engine and reach across the console, taking her chin in my hand and drawing my lips close to hers. “Baby, I don’t need a trampoline park as an excuse to touch you.” Then my hand slides down her neck and over her collarbone, skimming lower until my thumb traces a line along the swelling side of her breast. “I can do that
when
ever I want.”
She smiles shyly
—a look that isn’t usually present when we play this little game, but recovers quickly, morphing into something more impish. “Hmm…perhaps I need to change that then.” My eyes widen, and she laughs, pulling my hand from her face and lowering it back to my lap. “Which means you aren’t allowed to touch me the entire time we’re in there.”
I lift an eyebrow. Another challenge? The thought kicks my heart into fast gear. “And if I succeed…?”
“Then you will be rewarded. And trust me, this reward is,”—her hand reaches over and tugs at the waistband of my jeans, letting her pinkie drop toward my zipper—“one you will not want to miss.” With that she hops out of the car.
“
Shit,” I mutter and then follow.
Inside
SkyTown, we pay for our wristbands to access the variety of trampoline rooms, place our shoes in a cubby, and I lead her through the crowded “little kids” area to the cafeteria-sized room of trampolines.
“
Dodgeball, jousting, or the standard jump. Which would you like to conquer first?”
She glances around,
wide-eyed and smiling like a fisherman in a bait store. Her eyes skip over the large flat span of square trampolines and mats—the standard jumping area—and land up above where two guys, probably a few years younger than us, balance on the round rod over a pool of cube-shaped, foam blocks with padded lances in their grip.
One kid jabs, landing a shot right in the other’s stomach which knocks him off balance and sends him over the edge and into the foam pit. Cambria’s mouth forms a small o, and then she lets out a
nervous-sounding giggle. “Extreme heights are definitely
not
my friend, but I have the strangest desire to kick your butt at that.”
“Challenge accepted.” I
gesture to the stairs with a sweep of my hand. “Just know that I don’t plan to let you win.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
We make it to the carpeted platform and are instructed by SkyTown’s finest, a teen girl with her nose in her phone, to slide on a padded helmet. “Should we make it even more interesting?” I ask Cambria as she fusses with the strap under her chin. I step closer, nodding for her to move her hands away. “A bet?” I loop the strap through the metal ring and pull it gently, careful not to brush my hands along her skin.
The glint is back. “Winner gets a kiss?” Her eyes dip to my mouth for the smallest of
seconds then return to my eyes.
Damn, she’s kind of irresistible.
I lower my mouth to hers but stop just short of her, only a millimeter of space between our lips, and shake my head. “I’m going to do that, anyway, once we’re out of here. A lot.” Her knees dip, and I’ve kissed this girl enough in the past few days to realize my nearness dissolves her to mush. The feeling is like winning the lottery. “How about…” I trace my tongue over my lips. “…loser has to do anything the winner wants her to.”
“
Her
?” With a backward step, she cocks her head to the side, hands at her hips. “Well, aren’t you pretentious.”
I motion to my frame and then hers. “I’m also a good seventy pounds of muscle bigger.”
Just then the employee clears her throat. “You two are up.” We’re handed padded lances, then we walk to opposite sides of the two-foot-wide dowel.
Cambria faces me,
hesitating with a slow, bug-eyed glance at the pit of foam below us. The lance in her grip starts to tremble. She wasn’t joking—she’s not good with heights.
“Are you scared?” I call across the pit to the other side. “We don’t have to do this.”
She swallows, and with it the scaredy-cat look vanishes. Shaking her head, her mouth forms a silent word.
Fearless
. And then she smiles as big as her mouth will allow and says, “You’re going down, Dimples. Literally.”
I laugh and step onto the mat. “Yeah, when I jump
after
you.”
She pushes her hair back over her shoulder, stands a bit taller and steadier, and s
ays with a confident shrug, “Guess I should’ve told you I was a gymnast back in middle school. First place on the balance beam.”
“Huh. Aren’t beams high?”
She chuckles. “Only if you’re a beetle. Or an ant. Or—”
“You dirty player.” I feign shock, hold it for all of a second, then a whistle sounds and we both attack.
Her lance hits me first, square in the thigh, but the force isn’t anywhere strong enough to knock me off balance. I return the hit with a jab to her chest, which she blocks with her arm then swings her lance to my hip.
“Are you sure that first place wasn’t
in fencing? Or sword fighting?”
One
handed, she swings again and lands a shot on my other side.
No way am I letting her win. I step closer, enough so that the tip of her lance passes me, and hold mine horizontall
y with both hands at the tips.
She braces for my shove, one leg in front of the other, and laughs as my lance crashes into her stomach. “I’m glad you’re not taking it easy on me.”
“Yeah,” I say, ducking to dodge a right-handed swing. “Why’s that?”
“Because if you were,”—both of her hands grip the edge
of her lance like a baseball bat—“I’d feel bad about doing this!” She lunges full force at me, shrieking with laughter as her lance smashes into the side of my head. The force is just enough to throw off my equilibrium for a millisecond, which also sends me over the edge. At the last second I swipe my lance at Cambria’s knees, knocking her balance off, too.
We both land in the foam pit.
“Cheater!” she squeals from underneath the blocks.
I chuck
le and shove a piece of foam off my head then roll over and prop my face just above hers, close enough to smell her fruity lip gloss. “Takes one to know one.”
~*~
I
twist the cap off a water bottle and hand it to Cambria. Three rounds of jousting and a game of jumping basketball—all without a single moment of skin-to-skin contact—and I’m beat. “Favorite movie?”
She grins
. “You’re going to laugh because it’s so old.
Point Break
.”
We walk
to the bench near our shoes and sit. “Huh. I never pinned you as the Swayze type.”
She
makes a face, taking a sip of her water. “Not because of him.”
“Keanu then?”
“Eww, no!” I find her shoes and place them on the bench between us. “It’s just…,” she starts to say but stops. A strange look comes over her face, like she’s trying to figure out the words to use. “I don’t know. I guess it’s that fantasy…of pretending to be someone you’re not.”
My
fingers, untying the laces of her shoes, still. It shouldn’t surprise me; it’s what we’ve continued to do over the last week, but then why does it feel like a car has slammed into my chest?
“Tell me something. This game you’re playing—
distract
ing yourself from your pain with me—do you do this with other people, too?” I throw back my shoulders, finding that cocky façade I’ve taken on since last week in the canyon. “Other guys?”
Her eyes narrow,
the orangey light above tinting her brown irises golden. “I’m not seeing anyone else, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”
My chest tightens, and I try to contain the biting tone in my words as I say, “But you have been for the last year.” It’s not even a question—obviously she has.
Her gaze darts away and for a long moment, she just stares over my shoulder.
“And how’s that working for you? Losing yourself in stranger after stranger from the club… Are you
healed
? Did their hands
cure
you of your pain, Cambria?”
Ever so slightly, she shakes her head, glistening tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. Maybe I’m an asshole for calling her out on this, but I’d be even more of one if I didn’t.
My hands caress her cheeks, drawing her stare back to mine. Gently I rest my forehead to hers, kissing her lips once. “Then promise me you won’t do it again. Not with someone else.” Another kiss, this one on the line of her jaw. “You need a distraction, you call me. Understand?”
One more nod, followed by a sigh of what seems like relief. Inside, I relax a bit more, too. This might be a death sentence, but if this beautiful girl needs to use somebody I’m going to be damn sure it’s me and not someone else.
It’s the least I can do.
Slowly, I pull back an inch, eyeing the scant space between us, then say to change the subject, “Looks like I broke the no-touching deal. Is there a consolation prize?”
Her eyes close momentarily, as if my stare is burning her from the inside out, and then—like our conversation never happened—she giggles. “Lucky for you it’s even better than the other.” Her tongue snakes out and sweeps across my lips, and, regardless if it’s the game or not, it’s just too hard to resist kissing her in front of all these people.
So I do. But just as my mouth covers hers, a familiar voice shouts my name from the main jumping area. I freeze, not knowing if I should acknowledge my best friend or not. Talking to him means introducing Cambria, and I don’t know if I’m ready to do that.
He calls my name again, and I quickly spin to face him so he won’t call it another time with my last name attached.
Cambria leans into me as we stand. “Do you know him?” We both watch as Ditty hops off the edge of the trampoline, helps Sam Weatherly down, and heads our way.
“Yeah,” I answer, scanning the rest of the trampoline for Jess. A wave of relief flushes over me as her short, blond hair and sure-to-be scowl at the girl next to me aren’t anywhere near. I nod at Ditty. “This is my best friend, Ryan.”
“The messy one?” she asks, and I chuckle with a nod. Yeah, that one.
Ditty’s assessing eyes scrape over Cambria, taking an extra second to note the arm I have wrapped around her shoulder, the way she’s leaning into me. I haven’t told him anything about her, about a new girl at all, and the disappointment escapes in his tone when he says, “Didn’t know you’d be here. Who’s your friend?”
Before I can answer, Sam approaches from behind him, glaring in replacement of my ex.
Guess it won’t take long before Jess finds out about this. Strangely, the thought is like a breath of fresh air.
I smile at them both and say simply, “Guys, this is Cambria.”
She gives them a small wave and quiet “hi,” and then, perhaps sensing the tension rolling off Ditty, squeezes my side and says to me, “I’m going to wash my hands before we leave.” She disappears around the corner, and I let out a breath.
“I didn’t know you had a new girl,” Ditty says stiffly, shoving his hands into his pockets. Jeez, sometimes he can be such a girl.
I shrug. “I don’t really. She’s just someone I met downtown.” Explaining that I met her at the train station would be a mess, telling him
who
she is would be a torture sentence. So I leave it at that.
He nods, accepting the casual tone of my words, and gestures awkwardly to Sam. “We were just killing time until Jess gets off work. Then we’re heading to the beach. You can come if you want.”
A bonfire is what he means. Likely with all our friends from school. And while spending time with my best friend does sound fun—it’s been forever since we’ve gone out and gotten wasted—choosing between the beach and Cambria isn’t really a choice at all.
I shake my head and let another lie flow. “Can’t. Promised
Wrenn I’d help her at home. Maybe some other time?” To my left, Cambria exits the girls’ restroom and starts back my way. I try not to look at her, at the way her shirt stretches across her tits or the timid smile she gives me when she sees that I’m watching her. And I certainly try not to acknowledge the tingle spreading out from my chest and the aching urge to return her smile.
Ditty clears his throat, and Sam laughs. “Not your girl, huh?” He’s staring at me as I glance back to him, a dumb-ass grin on his face. Then he whispers, “You don’t fool me for a second,
Ledoux.”