Dirty Little Mistake (Hard to Love #2)

Chapter 47

Camryn

" W e should probably go back in before they miss us," Trystan whispered, his forehead still pressed against mine.

"Absolutely not." My fingers curled into his shirt, the fabric twisting as I drew him down. Sand shifted beneath me as I fell back, his weight settling over me like a promise. "I need you to prove to me—" My breath caught as his hips aligned with mine "—just how perfect we are together."

The corners of his lips lifted, predatory and patient. My hands found the hem of his shirt, trembling with want. "Don't tease me, woman." Each word dropped like honey, slow, and sweet with a warning.

I tugged his white polo up, and he shifted his weight, pulling each arm through until I tossed it to the side.

"Tell me what you want." His voice was rough, dark, and dangerous. He rolled his hips—slow, deliberate—the hard length of him pressing exactly where I needed him. The friction was exquisite torture—almost enough, nowhere near enough.

"I want—" The words crumbled on my tongue as his teeth found my neck. His hand skimmed up my thigh, each touch a match strike against my skin, building heat stroke by stroke.

"Say it." Command and plea tangled in those two words, his breath hot against my throat. His fingers climbed higher, tracing maddening patterns that had me arching and trembling. "I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck me." The words tumbled out raw, desperate. "Please, I need?—"

His growl vibrated against my throat. "Show me how much."

His lips found my throat—soft at first. Testing. Tasting. Then teeth grazed skin, and thoughts fractured into sensation.

Up my thigh, his fingers danced, each touch electric. Higher. Slower. Like he had forever to drive me mad.

When he nipped at my pulse point, pleasure sparked white-hot behind my eyes. His name caught in my throat—prayer and curse tangled into one desperate sound.

Need bloomed between my legs, hot and heavy and hungry. Every brush of his fingers closer to where I ached for him sent tremors through my core.

Not enough.

Not nearly enough.

But God, how perfectly he played this torture.

My hips moved, chasing his touch, showing him exactly how much I needed him right now until his hand dipped below my panty line, his fingers sliding through my slick flesh, teasing me. I bucked my hips into his hand, begging for more. The wave rushed in without warning, ice-cold water swirling around our tangled legs.

My whimper echoed over the tide, splashing around our feet as the pad of his finger found my clit applying the perfect amount of pressure that set my body on fire. My toes curled into the wet sand as my fingertips dug into his ribs.

My heart rate spiked when he slipped a finger inside me, filling me as his teeth grazed my throat, and his thumb continued its slow torture. He pumped in and out, and my breath hitched as I teetered on the edge of the explosion. My pussy clenched around his fingers, sucking him in when he added another finger. My abs tightened, and my legs trembled as he increased his speed, moving in a rhythm that made my body vibrate.

"Fuck," I cried out as my thighs clenched around his waist.

"Come all over my fucking hand, baby." And I did, barely having time to recover as his hands disappeared and his cock stroked my soaking wet flesh, his wide head hitting my sensitive clit. He positioned the tip of his cock at my entrance as his eyes met mine. "This pussy belongs to me." He thrust his hips forward, filling me as his lips traced my jawline. "Fuck… my cock fits this pussy perfectly."

"Oh my god," I moaned. He stilled inside me, and I thought I was going to lose it. I thrust my hips up, but his hips pinned mine to the sand. "Please, Trystan."

"Please, what, baby?" He breathed against my ear.

"Please fuck me," I moaned. "Please make me come."

The steady rhythm of waves faded beneath the erratic drumbeat of my pulse as his lips moved from my ear down my jawline back to my throat as he withdrew before slamming back into me over and over again, grinding a little deeper each time. Every thrust brought me closer and closer. My nerve endings sparked and fizzed like a live wire, each point of contact between us a new surge of electricity.

My back arched into him as I sucked in a choppy breath. My entire body tensed, and my toes curled deeper into the sand as I soared over the edge of ecstasy, and with one more thrust, Trystan followed me.

With our heavy breathing in sync, his body collapsed onto mine.

A laugh bubbled up as a wave splashed around us. "I don't think we are going to make it back to the party."

"Yeah, we both have that freshly fucked look."

Reality crashed back in with the sound of approaching voices—a cacophony of laughter and clinking bottles that shattered our bubble of solitude. Footsteps pounded against the weather-worn boardwalk, each thud matching my racing heart as our private world crumbled.

"They're moving the party to the beach." My voice cracked with panic as I shot upright, sand cascading from my clothes.

"Shit," Trystan muttered. We scrambled like guilty teenagers—clothes wet and disheveled, sand everywhere, trying to look like we hadn't just been fucking on the beach.

Syn and Jaxtyn materialized from the darkness. Syn's knowing look made heat crawl up my neck.

I smoothed my skirt, acutely aware of my swollen lips and tangled hair. "We were just?—"

"Fucking?" Syn's smirk could've lit up half the coastline.

Trystan coughed, suspiciously close to a laugh. His hand found the small of my back, thumb tracing circles.

I cleared my throat. "Talking," I corrected her.

Jax laughed. "You have sand in your hair, Cam." I reached up, brushing my fingers through my messy hair.

"Where's Kaia?" I changed the subject, trying to ignore the growing voices behind us and the heat creeping up my neck.

"She was tired, so I'm moving the party to the beach, and then I'm going back to my wife." Jax's eyes darted over my shoulder, his easy smile fading as a commotion stirred behind us.

The shift in energy hit me before I saw them. Owen moved through the crowd like a storm front, each step deliberate, shoulders coiled tight. People scattered instinctively, leaving him on a collision course with Brody, one of their teammates. The beach went quiet except for the waves; that endless rhythm was suddenly ominous.

Brody's smirk appeared, followed by words too soft to catch—but I saw them land. Owen's expression shifted microscopically. Then—impact. The crack of knuckles against jaw scattered the remaining onlookers like startled birds.

"Shit—" Jax's curse was lost in the chaos as both men hit the sand. Limbs tangled, fists flew, each impact punctuated by grunts and the dull thud of flesh meeting flesh.

Jax grabbed Owen around the waist, jerking him off Brody, and someone else grabbed Brody, helping him up. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Owen straightened slowly, blood trickling from his split lip. His eyes found mine across the crowd, and something in his expression made my chest tighten.

"He called Cam a whore." The words fell like stones into silence. I'd heard all the whispers all night, but I didn't expect someone to say that to Owen's face. Owen wrenched free from Jax's grip, his voice rising. "And I'm done—" He spat blood into the sand. "I'm fucking done letting everyone blame her."

The night seemed to hold its breath. Owen's shoulders rose and fell with each ragged breath.

"You want someone to hate?" He shouted into the crowd. His laugh was bitter, sharp enough to cut. "Hate me. I'm the one who cheated. Me."

The crowd shifted uncomfortably, whispers dying before they could take root.

His gaze met mine again, and my lips lifted into a thankful smile before shifting to meet Trystan's gaze.

The look that passed between the two men carried weight—respect, forgiveness, appreciation. Whatever understanding they reached in that silent exchange felt like the first real step forward. Maybe we'd all be able to move past this, and things would be like they were again.

"You want to stay down here and party or..."

"I'm ready for a shower and bed."

Smiling, he slid his arm around my shoulder. "My bed or yours."

"Hey," Jax's voice called out. "Tryst." We both twisted to see Jax running up to us. "I need to talk to you about something," Jax said to Trystan.

"What's up?"

"I think Syn is dating Sebastian King."

The words hit like a hammer to glass, shattering our easy laughter and leaving silence sharp as shards. I didn't know Sebastian King personally, but I'd heard about him and his reputation. He was bad news, and so was the gang of hellions he ran with.

"You're sure?" Trystan's voice carried an edge I'd never heard before. The kind that comes from knowing too much. Seeing too much.

"Kaia and I went for a walk on the beach last night, and we saw them together on the boardwalk."

"Just the two of them?"

"They were with a group of people, but it was pretty obvious."

"Did you ask her?"

Jax scrubbed a hand over his face. "We tried. Kaia tried." His laugh held no humor. "But Syn is..." He trailed off, and we all felt the weight of what he wasn't saying.

Trystan's jaw tightened. Jax turned to me, hope and desperation warring in his expression. "Maybe if you talked to her..."

"Syn's too smart for this," I said, but the words rang hollow. "She knows who Sebastian is."

"I saw them together at Rockfest," Trystan said. "But she swore it was nothing, but I've been noticing bruises on her lately."

"If he's putting his hands on her..." Jax's words hung unfinished, but we all heard the violence in them. The promise.

"Right now, the most important thing is getting through to Syn." I turned, expecting to see her mingling with the partygoers, but she was... My heart stumbled. "She's gone."

The night seemed colder suddenly. Darker.

"Fuck." Trystan's curse carried the weight of everything we knew about Sebastian King. Everything we feared.