Chapter 33
Trystan
T he smoke from the blunt curled around my face as I inhaled deeply, the pungent scent of marijuana mixing with the salty ocean air. I held my breath, letting the buzz settle into my bones before exhaling slowly. The wind carried the smoke away, along with Cam's laughter. It echoed across the moonlit beach, sharp and brittle, as she flashed a smile at a complete stranger. I groaned, the sound lost in the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore.
My gaze swept across the pool area, lit by the blue glow of underwater lights. To my left, Owen sprawled in a lawn chair, his slack face illuminated by the flickering tiki torches. On the opposite side, Harlow had collapsed onto the concrete of the pool deck, one arm dangling into the water.
Everyone was trashed, and almost everyone had made their way back to the house except for Cam and Syn, who invited a group of college guys to join the party.
"She's only doing this to make you jealous." Syn stumbled up beside me, her eyes unfocused. "She'll go home with all of them just to hurt you the way you hurt her."
When Camryn was hurt or angry, she was unpredictable. She always found a way to make stupid decisions that led to trouble.
"She's not going anywhere," I growled, my eyes locked on Cam like a hawk tracking its prey. "Not a chance in hell." My fingers dug into my palms, nails biting flesh as I watched Cam's hand brush the stranger's arm.
The flirting to make me jealous wasn't as obvious when Owen was still conscious, but now I was sure. It was working. I was insanely jealous.
Syn tilted her head, brows furrowed. "So what did you do, anyways? I've never seen Cam act like this before." She snickered. "Must have been bad."
I shrugged, averting my gaze. "It doesn't matter."
She sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "It did to her."
"Yeah," I muttered, bringing the blunt to my lips.
She swayed slightly, her words slurring. "Well, are you going to fix it?"
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration evident in every movement. "I don't know how. She won't listen to me or talk to me or even look at me."
She raised her shoulders. "Make her listen."
A humorless laugh escaped my lips. "You obviously don't know Cam."
"I know that she's really fucking hurt right now, and I know she does stupid fucking shit when she's hurt." My gaze flashed back to Cam, who was surrounded by guys on the beach. "And you can't let her do that."
Stopping Cam from making a stupid mistake and making her listen to me were two different things.
I didn't care if I had to sit on her. She wasn't leaving here with anyone but me. No matter how hard she fought, I wasn't letting her do something stupid because of me.
Syn reached up, brushing a strand of her black hair out of her face, and my gaze narrowed on a small bruise on her arm. "What happened?" Her brows pulled together, her lips twisting in confusion. "On your arm."
Her gaze dropped to the bruise. "Oh." She tugged at the sleeve of her fitted black shirt. "I'm not really sure. I must have bumped something tonight."
That was a lie. The bruise had already shifted to greenish yellow and looked a few days old, but I didn't have time for that conversation right now. We would come back to that later.
I nodded toward the pool deck where Harlow slept. "You should get Harlow up to bed before she rolls into the pool."
Syn's unsteady finger pointed at Owen's motionless form on the opposite side of the pool. "What about him?"
I waved a dismissive hand. "He'll be fine. He's a grown man, and he can get himself to bed." I couldn't have cared less about Owen at that moment.
A giggle bubbled up from her throat. "Okay."
One of the guys put his hand on Camryn's bare hip, and my jaw clenched. "I'm going to go deal with this."
I trudged down to the beach, my feet sinking into the cool, damp sand with each step. The sound of bass from a distant speaker vibrated through the ground, mixing with the laughter and chatter of the beach party. The air was thick with the scent of coconut sunscreen, spilled beer, and salty ocean air.
My pace quickened as Cam climbed onto a rickety plastic beach chair, its legs sinking unevenly into the sand. Her silhouette swayed against the starlit sky, her hips moving sinuously to the beat.
"Fuck yeah," one of the guys yelled, and my lip curled into a snarl as he reached out for the string holding the top of her orange bikini together.
My arm lashed out, a cobra striking its prey. His fingers barely grazed the string before my palm connected with his chest, the impact sending shockwaves up my arm. He toppled backward, arms pinwheeling, before landing with a muffled thud on the damp sand.
"What the..." he shouted.
Ignoring him, my arm hooked around Cam's thighs just before I tossed her over my shoulder.
I adjusted her weight on my shoulder. "Hey, Cam."
Cam's voice rang out, raw and ragged, each word punctuated by a blow against my back. "Fuck. Off. Trystan!" Her body writhed against my shoulder, a tornado of flailing limbs and flying hair. "Put. Me. Down!" The last word dissolved into a frustrated growl that vibrated through our bodies.
"What the fuck?" one of the other guys growled. "She was dancing for us."
I stopped, whipping around. "You have two options right now," I hissed. "Go the fuck home, or I'm going to remove your teeth from your mouth."
He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Whatever man, no pussy is worth this."
Cam's body tensed against mine, her voice rising to a shout. "What the fuck? My pussy..."
"Shut up, Cam," I cut her off.
She pounded her fists against my back again as I twisted around and stormed toward the house. "Eat shit, Trystan!"
I shouldered open the back door, the sudden quiet of the house a stark contrast to the loud beach party. My footsteps echoed through the kitchen, the tile cool against my sand- covered feet. Empty bottles and discarded cups littered the countertops.
I stormed through the living room, navigating around furniture, and took the stairs two at a time. The door banging against the wall echoed through the house. The scent of her perfume, floral and sweet, hung in the air as I leaned forward, dumping her onto the rumpled sheets of her bed.
Her hands connected with my chest in a forceful shove. "What is wrong with you? You don't want me, but no one else can have me either?" She slid off the bed and moved to step around me.
I moved to block her way, my body tensing as if bracing against a physical blow. Her hands connected with my chest, the force of her shove matching the hurt in her eyes. "Get out of my way," she growled, her voice trembling with a cocktail of anger and pain that cut straight to my core.
"You're not going back out there," I said. "You're going to bed."
"Move," she ordered, ducking around me.
I rolled my eyes as I looped my arm around her small waist, spun her, and shoved her into the wall, pinning her hands over her head. "No." The words clawed their way up my throat, each syllable laced with the bitterness of admission. "If you wanted to make me jealous," my face was inches from hers, close enough to see just how blue her eyes were, "you win. I'm fucking jealous." My fingers flexed against her wrists, pinned above her head as if I could transfer the burning ache in my chest through that single point of contact.
"I didn't..."
"Yes, you did, and I'm ready to rip their faces off, so can we call it a fucking night."
The space between us vibrated with the force of our breathing, our chests heaving in an erratic rhythm. I could taste the salt of her breath and feel the warmth of it fanning across my face; each exhale a ghostly caress against my skin.
Her gaze dropped to my mouth, lingering for a long moment as my tongue swept out, wetting my dry lips. The energy shifted, and my cock twitched when her lips parted just inches from mine. Our heated breath mingled, charging the air between us.
"I don't want anyone else to have you because I want you," I breathed as her body arched into mine.
My mouth crashed against hers. The kiss was intense and all-consuming, quickly turning messy and needy as I pressed my body into hers, pinning her harder against the wall. Releasing her wrist, I filled my hands with her ass hiking her up to me. She wrapped her legs around my waist as her hands dove into my hair, tugging as our tongues tangled together, fighting for dominance neither of us was willing to give.
I shoved off the wall, twisting and walking until my knees hit the bed. Lifting my knee, I knelt on the bed, dropping Cam to her back and pressing her into the mattress with my weight.
She lifted her hips, pressing her core hard against my cock that was begging to come out and play.
"Fuck," I groaned, ripping my mouth from hers. "We can't." I pushed up to my knees.
"What?" she panted, lifting up on her elbows. "Why the fuck not?"
"You're drunk," I muttered, climbing off the bed. "And I'm not giving you another reason to hate me. You want this?" I waved my hand between us. "Come get me when you're sober."
"Seriously?"
I turned without saying anything because if I didn't go now, I would never have been able to walk away.
"Fine, I'll do it my fucking self."
My eyes closed. "Fuck," I whispered, dropping my head. I didn't want her to do it herself, but I didn't want her to hate me even more tomorrow. My jaw clenched as I urged myself just to leave and let her do what she needed to do, but I didn't. I slowly turned.
Cam was on her knees on the bed. She reached back, tugging the string of her bikini, and her tits bounced free. She was so fucking beautiful. My eyes trailed over her perfect curves as she shifted, reaching into the nightstand and pulling out a pink vibrator before falling back onto the bed.
I should have left. I should have run and locked myself in my bedroom, but I didn't.
The buzz of the vibrator filled the quiet room, echoing over our labored breathing. Cam's eyes locked on mine as she slowly moved it down her body until it disappeared between her thighs. My cock strained so hard I thought it was going to burst through the denim of my shorts.
Her eyes closed, her head tipped back, and her lips parted as a moan escaped.
I turned to leave. I had to get out of there, or I wasn't going to let her finish herself. "She's drunk," I whispered. She wouldn't do this if she weren't.
It was hard to walk away because I wanted her so fucking bad, but this wasn't what I wanted.
I jerked open the door and froze. My brows pulled together as I listened to her moaning. She got louder and louder. I knew what it sounded like when she was getting close. I knew what it sounded like when she came. It was a sound I would never get out of my head, and that wasn't it.
I whipped around. "Are you faking an orgasm?"