Chapter 8
CAIDEN
She was circling my mind. Her taste, her face, her eyes. I couldn’t fucking think straight.
So, I set my focus on Sydney. Harmless flirting and fantasizing with her was better than yearning for a woman who would both ruin me and complete me.
We were gathered in the living area of the beach house, settling down for a movie. There was a long leather couch that made an ‘L’ shape, as well as a love seat and a few scattered chairs.
Amelia sat on one end, Alex next to her, while Sabrina and Shane sat on the love seat couch. I snagged a spot next to Sydney, sitting close enough to allow my knees to touch her.
I think she was into it too, because she leaned closer to me, and it should have been a turn-on, but it wasn’t. All I could fucking think about was Amelia.
Alex put his arm around her, pulling her closer, as they shared a bowl of popcorn. Amelia’s gaze was set on the television as a sappy romantic comedy began to play, but all I could focus on was her face.
Those mesmerizing sea-green eyes, faint freckles across her perfectly shaped nose, and soft fucking hair.
I know what I said to her on the ferry, but I was fucking pissed off, and I still was. Still, though, I craved her. It was torture.
Amelia giggled as Alex said something, and it lit a fire that was rising by the second.
She’s mine. The thought invaded my head, out of nowhere, and I shook it away. She wasn’t mine. She would never be.
I want it, though. A small voice chimed in, echoing in the far back of my mind.
Shuffling closer to Sydney, I laid my arms across the back of the couch, subtly brushing against her shoulder. She shivered in a way that told me she enjoyed it, and so I kept my arm there.
When I glanced at Amelia again, her gaze burned into me, a fiery sting in her emerald eyes. Her eyes shifted to my arm, which was still lying behind Sydney as we sat on the couch, and the fire blazed harder. She looked away and laid her head on Alex’s shoulder.
Fucking bitch. I knew what she was doing.
Unfortunately, it was working. My fist, a tight knot beside me, ached with the effort of stillness. Muscles rigid, I fought the urge to leap up, to tear him from her, the very air crackling with barely contained fury.
Sydney laughed at something happening in the movie, a melodic sound, and her hand fell onto my thigh, a sudden intense heat pulsed through my veins.
I leaned in and whispered sultry words into her ear. She froze and gulped, her eyes peering up at me, a lustful gaze etched onto her expression.
The rest of the movie, I sat, my eyes switching from the screen to Amelia. Every fucking glance pushed me over the edge, filling my head with unholy desires.
This affection for her, caged and frozen like a winter river, began to thaw into a darker, lustful sin. The icy grip loosened, revealing a primal heat, a throbbing pulse beneath a skin of frost.
I couldn’t like her, I couldn’t be the perfect man for her, so this was the only option left. Sweet and sinful hunger.
With Alex in the way, though, that couldn’t happen either, so I was stuck with Sydney. She was the definition of sexy, so I didn’t mind that much.
In the dim, blue-tinged glow of the television screen, Sydney's hand, cool and smooth, began a slow rub against my thigh. The soft cotton of my jeans yielded to her touch. My leg jerked, and I let out a hushed groan.
She smiled and peeked at me from the corner of her eyes.
Finally, for a moment, Amelia left my head, and I didn’t bother glancing at her being cozy with Alex.
Her fingers, tracing the line of my thigh, sent shivers down my spine. It wasn't just lust; it was a quiet rebellion, a deliberate defiance of the unspoken rules, the invisible walls Amelia had built around us.
The movie ended, finally. Shane and Sabrina worked on cleaning up the kitchen. I noticed Alex and Amelia slip out to go onto the balcony. I motioned for Sydney to follow me, taking advantage of everybody being distracted.
We went up the stairs to the last set of bedrooms. Sydney followed me into my room, and the second we closed the door, I pushed her against the wall. She gasped and allowed me to take control.
“You’re such a fucking tease,” I whispered as I pressed myself against her, placing my hands on the curve of her back.
Sydney's form was subtly different with a petite, delicate frame. Amelia possessed a fuller, softer, and slimmer curve. She had a pleasing plumpness in all the right places.
“Yeah, you like it though,” Sydney whispered as she lowered her hand to feel the bulge in my shorts.
A groan escaped my lips as I claimed hers, our tongues tangling in a desperate, hot kiss. I tore her shorts off with my free hand.
My finger moved with a deliberate rhythm across her wetness.
She moaned into my ear as I sucked on her neck flesh, teasing her with my fingers.
"Please," she whispered, her breath warm on my skin, pushing me closer. The scent of her perfume, faint and floral, filled the air.
“Please, what?” I knew exactly what she wanted.
“Take me.”
Wasting no more time, I kicked off my own shorts and undergarments while lifting her shirt off. Her breasts weren’t as plump as Amelia’s, but they were nice.
I hoisted her up, her weight warm against me as her legs encircled my waist. The scent of her skin filled my nostrils as I buried my face in her neck. A gasp escaped her lips, followed by a moan. It was a low, throaty sound that vibrated delightfully against my ear.
I started to thrust into her with fervor, like a wild, hungry beast, feeling the intensity of the moment with every movement. The sound of our breathing and the sight of her pleasure-filled expression heightened the experience.
Even as I was fucking another woman, my mind drifted to Amelia. Her image filled my closed eyelids; Sydney's neck, warm beneath my cheek, was a contrast to the phantom of Amelia's skin.
I conjured Amelia's moans in my mind and pictured the curve of her hip, the gentle swell of her breast, hidden beneath her clothes.
That was enough to send a wave of shivers, hot and prickly, across my skin. A frantic, buzzing energy built, a deep thrumming anticipation of the imminent peak.
I began thrusting faster, groaning into Sydney’s ear while she met my same intensity with quiet moans.
"You can come in me, I'm on the pill," she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. Even if she wasn’t, I had a vasectomy years ago.
I released myself into her, the rough texture of the wall against my hand grounding me as the other arm supported Sydney's weight, her body soft and sweaty beneath me.
"Fuck," I gasped, my voice a hoarse whisper, as I gently lowered Sydney to the cool ground, feeling the weight of exhaustion in my limbs. The high was over, I got it out of my system, and now the deep ache was back.
I wanted it to be Amelia. Sydney's presence suddenly disgusted me. The scent of her perfume, once alluring, now felt cloying and suffocating. I felt a prickling urge to flee, my skin crawling with revulsion.
“That was amazing,” she grinned as she put her clothes back on, while also fixing her hair.
I nodded, not showing her the same enthusiasm.
“Yeah, thanks. I needed that.” Without saying another word, I opened the door and left her standing there, feeling the weight of her confused expression as she stared at my retreating form.
She probably wanted me to cuddle her or some shit, but for me, that was just something to release this frustration.
She served her purpose, and now my focus was back on Amelia. I knew that made me out to be an asshole, but I couldn’t care.
The stuffy air pressing on my chest, I descended the creaking stairs, each step echoing slightly. Pushing open the heavy, varnished door, the cool night air, fragrant with damp earth and honeysuckle, washed over me. There, framed in the doorway's light, stood Amelia.
She stood at the water’s edge, the dark sea before her like a vast, rippling shadow under the moonlight. Each wave crashed with a muted thunder, frothy tips dissolving into the black expanse. I wanted to reach for her, but I didn’t.
I’d always been a coward when it came to the real chase. Once it got too close, I ran. I’d been terrible to her, and that guilt clung to me like a second skin.
Amelia Langston will be the death of me.