Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Fa ye
“Are you okay?” Ezra asks, wrapping himself around me.
His warm body is such a sharp contrast from the cold water that I gasp. His grip tightens around me, and our eyes lock. Heat moves between us in a way I don’t understand, and he pulls me even closer, his big body hard beneath my touch.
“Faye…” His voice is low. Almost a growl.
“I can swim,” I tell him, my head spinning just a little as warmth spreads through my blood.
His jaw tics, and he licks his lips. “Can you?”
My gaze moves to his mouth, and I feel an overwhelming need to kiss this man. This man who smells like cardamom. Like a fresh breeze in a clean forest.
He leans in closer. “Faye…”
Oh my gosh, why is he so close? What does he want? And why do I feel so strange?
“This is crazy!” I hear myself say, pushing away from Ezra, my heart racing.
I can swim by myself. I don’t need Ezra, or anyone else, to help me.
Ezra gives me a strange look, but then glances away quickly. The water between us feels like not enough space. Like we’re still too close. But I try to push away the strange feeling.
Across the way, beyond the other boat, Serra actually is struggling, her head just above the water as she tries to doggy paddle. When Ezra sees that I’m more than capable of keeping myself alive, he moves over, putting an arm around Serra and trying to turn over the other boat at the same time.
I shiver. Well, this is cold and miserable.
Who’s half-baked idea was it to send us out on boats, anyway? First, they kidnap me and bring me here, force me to run around, trying to avoid Kurt around every corner, and now I’m soaked and freezing. These ultimas must just really love torturing omegas.
Although I guess this time it’s more of Cayson’s fault than theirs.
I start to swim back toward the dock when a hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me back in the water. Cayson takes me into his arms, his chest pressed up against mine, his expression intense.
“Don’t worry,” Cayson whispers, his voice low and husky. “I’ll save you.”
Like hell I’m about to let the guy who caused this mess “save me.”
“I’m more than capable of saving myself.” I plant my hands on his chest and push away from him, moving smoothly through the water. There’s a pond outside my cabin where we would fish every summer, and where Miles and I would go on the hottest days, swimming and splashing in the water. I grew up playing with my brother, so the water is in my blood.
I swim away from him, but not fast enough, because he’s right there again, pulling me into his arms, pressing his chest against mine. “Why save yourself when I can be the one to save you?” he asks, a teasing note to his voice.
His gaze focuses on me. The humor fades from his expression. Suddenly, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world—his hand settling on my waist, his breath hot and fast on my neck.
Distantly, I can hear Ezra struggling to right the boat. Struggling to help Serra inside. But it’s like my entire brain is consumed by the man in front of me, how his fingers are tightening on my body, the feel of his skin, so hot I can feel it straight through my dress and underclothes.
I’m strangely aware of every inch of Cayson, and he makes me feel hot and unsettled all at once. Then I remember the guys calling for him, telling him to take a shot off of a girl inside.
I know what kind of guy he is, and I’d be an absolute fool to forget it. Especially when I’m not in the market for any alpha.
“I’m not going to fall for this, you know,” I say, tilting my head up at him, my eyes challenging.
His eyes are dark and blown out, reflecting the moonlight and the water right back at me. I have to remind myself to breathe. To not be pulled under whatever spell he’s trying to weave over me. The same spell he’s probably weaved over all the many girls Ezra said get tricked by him.
“Fall for what?” he asks, moving his face an inch closer to mine.
Does he think I’m an idiot? I might not have seen him for what he was at first, but I understood what Ezra was trying to tell me. “I know you’re a player, Cayson. I know this is what you do with all the girls. Shower them with attention. Make them feel like they’re the only girl in the world.”
“Am I making you feel like that?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and a blush blossoms over my cheeks.
“You’re making me feel like I can’t get away from you.”
“I’m not even holding on to you, Faye,” he whispers, his voice playful, and I realize with a start that he’s not holding me anymore. It’s just that the way he’s looking at me, how we’re looking into each other’s eyes, feels like touching.
I turn away from him, making to swim away toward the dock again, when something pinches my toe and I let out a small cry of pain, reaching down to grab it in the water.
“What is it?” Cayson asks, immediately beside me again. In a second, without me realizing what’s happening, his arms go around my back and my body magnetizes to his, pulling close.
“My foot,” I tell him, not sure how else to explain it.
He reaches down, his hand running over it in the water. “Probably a crayfish,” he mutters, his thumb grazing the painful spot where it pinched me. I’ve been pinched before, and I’m suddenly embarrassed by the way I acted.
“I know,” I mutter, making to push away from him again, but to my utter horror, my body reacts in the opposite way, my thighs rising, my legs wrapping around his waist. I can’t ignore the pulsing heat that’s pushing through my body, my stomach flipping at our proximity.
Cayson’s scent is all around me, consuming me, making my face and eyes feel hot.
“That’s more like it,” Cayson mutters, his eyes flicking to my lips.
I blink, watching him as he licks his lips, moistening them. “What are you doing?” I ask, hating how breathy I sound. “Let me go.”
“You’re free to go,” he says, taking his hands off my back for a moment. I stare at him, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my nipples peaked and brushing against his chest in the water. When I don’t move away, he smirks and brings his hands to my back again, his fingers pressing in, and I fight not to lean into the delicious pressure.
“Faye,” he says, leaning forward, nosing at my hairline. “I have an idea.”
“That’s not good,” I mutter, half of my mind still telling me to pull away from him, get back to the dock before I do something I regret.
“You’re feeling tense,” he says, his fingers working away on my back. “I know a great way to relieve some of that stress.”
“And what’s that?” My heart’s pounding in my ears.
“You come back to my room with me,” he says, his voice so low I can hardly hear him. “And I work you over.”
“You’re not talking about a massage,” I murmur, my eyes locking on his lips, his jawline, how his throat moves when he talks.
“I’m talking about a very good massage,” he says, his hips moving forward slightly so I can feel his hard length against me. “Hands, mouth, other…instruments. If you want. I swear, you’ll never forget it. I’ll touch you in ways no man will ever do again.”
I suck in a breath, my brain feeling like mush, unable to make a move. One part of me urges my head to lean forward, to take his mouth in a kiss, have him take me right here in the water. The other side of me is desperately trying to remind me of the reason I’m here, to get through this without finding a mate. Get back home. Continue living my life the way I want.
“Hey!” Serra yells, her voice carrying over the water. When I glance past Cayson’s shoulder, I see her in one boat, paddling toward us, and Ezra in the other, looking completely done with Cayson’s antics.
“You know what?” I say, leaning as close as I can to Cayson, feeling his body tense in anticipation under mine. I press my lips close to his ear, then whisper, “I think Serra might be mad at you.”
With that, I use his body as a launching point, pushing off of him and slicing through the water, calling upon summer after summer of swimming to go as fast as I can. I’d be faster without the dress, with my hair tied up, but I relish the feeling of the water flying past me, the feel of my lungs expanding, my muscles burning as I push them hard.
When I reach the dock, I see Ezra splashing Cayson with water as he tries, again, to climb into Ezra’s boat. I chuckle and pull myself out of the water, gratefully accepting a towel from a servant, who mutters that this has never happened before during a Selection event.
I can hardly pay attention to him. My eyes are glued to the men across the water, who are bickering with one another. I still smell Ezra’s scent and Cayson’s scent mingling, stuck to my body like a hazy cloud, reminding me of how Cayson’s body felt in the water, slick and hot, pressed against mine, how my core had tightened when Ezra took me in his arms.
When I came to The Selection, I told myself I would do everything possible not to get attached to a single person here. And now, here I am, my heart pounding as I watch two men paddling across the water toward me.
Those two are going to be a problem.