Chapter 30
THIRTY
Iam absolutely going to regret this.
A few days ago, I agreed to make an effort to be pleasant and civil for fuck’s sake, and now here I am, doubling down because I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut, any more than I know how to stay away from her—and are you ready for the most fucked-up part of it all?
Every time I look at her, remembering why I should be doing both of those things gets harder and harder.
“Now that that’s settled, what’s on the agenda for today?” I ask because I know her. Millie is a planner. She had the entire island mapped out and every day of this trip packed solid with excursions and activities before she even picked out her wedding dress.
Flushing slightly, Millie shakes her head. “I’ve been cancelling the daily excursions because they’re couples activities and I didn’t have anyone to go with.”
Okay, so that makes me feel like shit.
“Well, now you do,” I tell her with a shrug. “What are we doing today?”
“Uhhh…” Shaking her head a little, Millie picks up her phone.
Giving the screen a few taps, she chews on her bottom lip, driving me absolutely batshit in the process.
“I scheduled snorkeling at eleven o’clock, and then dinner reservations at Davino’s at seven.
She gives me a quick smile. “Chef Suzi Bravebird is doing a residency while we’re here.
She just earned her first Michelin star. ”
Of course there’s a Davino’s here. Davino Fiorella is Wentworth Fiorella’s father and if memory serves, Suzi Bravebird was married to him at some point.
“Davino’s means fancy,” I remind her, trying to remember what was available to wear in the mountain of clothes she had delivered here for Allister.
“There are plenty of appropriate dinner options in the closet. We can even go buy something if you want—my treat.”
“I don’t want or need you to buy me clothes,” I tell her, my tone a little harder than it should be. “I’ll make due with what’s here and if I want something different, I’ll buy it myself.”
“Okay. I didn’t mean to…” When I don’t say anything else, Millie shakes her head. “We don’t have to keep them, Dean,” she starts to ramble. “The reservations. We can just stay here. We don’t have to go anywhere. Or we can just keep doing what we’ve been doing. We can just keep—”
Stay here, in this island paradise, alone with you, surrounded by all the places I can’t quit envisioning fucking you in?
Not a great idea.
“If we’re going to sell this you and me thing, we should probably make ourselves as visible as possible, don’t you think?” I say, doing my best to flatten out the panic in my tone.
“Oh.” She gives me a quick frown like she forgot what we were talking about and why before she nods. “Right. Yes. That’s probably the easiest way to do it.”
“You do understand what pretending to fuck is going to entail, don’t you, Mills?” I ask because I’m an absolute asshole and I apparently love to torture myself.
“Of course.” To her credit, she doesn’t look like she wants to pass out when I say the word fuck this time. “It means we’re going to have to…” She blushes before she flips her hand at the space between us. “Be in each other’s personal space.”
“Right.” I fight the smirk that’s threatening to take over my face because panicking or not, making her squirm is still my favorite thing to do. “And you’re going to be able to do that? Let me touch you. Possibly even kiss you, in front of people?”
Her mouth opens slightly. Just enough to tell me she’s having as much trouble breathing at the thought as I am. “Yes.” She nods. “I think so.”
“People will be watching,” I remind her. “When they see us together, they’ll almost certainly take our picture—maybe even take videos—and you can pretty much guarantee it’ll end up on some—”
“I understand.” Two little lines appear between her eyebrows at my tone. “I’m not completely clueless, Dean.”
I feel a smile tug at the corner of my mouth when she gives me one of her haughty little huffs. “Did I just insult you, Princess?”
“Yes.” She gives me a prim little sniff. “As a matter of fact, you did.”
“Sorry.” I push myself away from the table but don’t get up because my cock, still hidden under my napkin, is so hard right now, I can’t get up. “You can make me sleep on the couch tonight if you want.”
“Maybe I will,” she sniffs at me again. Pushing her own chair away from the table, Millie stands. “I’m going to get dressed,” She says, turning away from me. “It’s almost eleven now. We have to meet the—”
Reaching out, I snag her by the wrist and pull because less than 24-hours in and I’ve already lost my goddamned mind.
“What—” She gasps it, her clear hazel eyes flying wide, mouth hanging open when ass hits my lap. “What are you doing?”
“Practicing.” It’s a lie. I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. Letting go of her wrist, I wrap my hand around her bare thigh and pull her deeper into my lap.
When she feels the rigid length of my shaft under her ass cheeks, Millie lets out one of her soft, cock-jerking gasps. “Is that…” Her eyes go a little cloudy before they drop to my mouth. “Are you…”
“As a fucking rock, Princess,” I tell her, sweeping my thumb along the seam of her thighs where they’re pressed together. “I told you to stop making those sounds around me.”
“Dean…” She whispers my name, her breath going soft and shallow. “I—”
“It’s not a big deal, remember?” I remind her. Hell, I don’t know—maybe I’m reminding myself. “Not if we don’t make it a big deal.”
“Right. Not a big deal.” Swallowing hard, Millie nods her head, her gaze falling to my mouth. “What are we practicing, exactly?”
“Touching each other.” The arm I have wrapped around her middle tightens like I’m afraid she’s going to try to run away when I say it. “Making sure you won’t jump out of your skin if PDA is necessary.”
“Oh.” What I’m saying must appeal to her practical nature because she relaxes into my chest. “That makes sense.”
“I’m glad you think so,” I say, my thumb still skimming and sweeping along the seam of her thighs. “Now… put your arm around my neck,”
“Okay.” She hesitates for a moment before she lifts her arm and hooks it around the back of my neck, the movement bringing her even closer.
So close, I can feel the stiff tip of her nipple brushing against my chest. “Like this?” she whispers, her mouth so close to mine I can feel the breath of it on my cheek.
“Just like that.” My thumb brushes along the length of her thigh.
“Good girl…” Like last night, when I say it, her breathing changes.
Goes shallow and ragged in her chest, the clench of her thighs loosening enough to let me slip between them.
Proper Princess Millie has a praise kink.
Knowing that could be dangerous for both of us.
“Now, your other hand goes on my chest.”
Shifting herself in my lap, Millie lifting her hand from her own knee to press it against my pec, the adjustment pushing the hand I have splayed across her stomach up the ladder of her ribcage. “Like this?” she asks, breath caught in her throat when my thumb grazes against her rock hard nipple.
“Yes…” Completely out of my fucking mind, I turn my face into the crook of her neck, making a low, rough sound in the back of my throat. “Such a good girl.” When I say it, her entire body begins to shake and her thighs fall open, the restless shift of them pushing my hand into their juncture.
The second my fingers make contact with the damp stretch of lace between her thighs, she goes still, her breath harsh and ragged against my cheek, fingers digging into the back of my neck like she doesn’t know what’s happening.
“Stay with me, Mills.” Cupping her pussy, I press the heel of my hand against the top of her slit, grinding her clit and she makes that sound again, the mindless desperation I hear in it going straight to my dick.
“Just like that...” Scraping and nipping my teeth along the taunt line of her jaw, I nearly come all over myself when she rocks her hips against me on another soft whimper.
“Fuuuck…” Her head falling back while she fucks my hand, working her slick, swollen pussy against the hard press of it. “Such a good fucking girl…”
Her hand slides itself up my chest and into my hair, fingers wrapping around the strands of it, tight enough to hurt while the pump and flex of her hips quickens, her slick, swollen pussy beginning to quiver in my grasp.
“That’s it, Mills…” I growl it against the moan, humming in her throat. “That’s my good girl… you’re so close to coming for me, aren’t you?”
“Dean.” She moans my name softly, the tail end of it snagging on a sharp gasp when I slip my thumb under the stretch of damp lace covering her throbbing pussy. “Please—”
Seconds away from doing something catastrophic, like lifting her so she can straddle me so I can fuck us both into orgasm through our clothes, I hear something, the intrusion of it, driving a spike of frustrated desperation into the base of my spine.
Someone behind us.
Clearing their throat.
Fuck.
Millie must hear it too because she suddenly goes as stiff as a board in my lap. Forcing my hand to go still, I keep it exactly where it is, holding her in place before she jumps up and probably sends us both flying into the pool. Lifting my head, I look at the intruder over Millie’s shoulder.
Mateo, standing in the bungalow doorway, hands behind his back, gaze aimed into middle space.
“What?” I practically bark at him, not even trying to hide my frustration.
“I beg your pardon. I knocked, but no one answered and there was no privacy sign on the door,” he explains, still staring into middle space, his tone just pointed enough to tell me that he’s wishing there had been. “The snorkel instructor expected you on the beach ten minutes ago.”
Letting out a mortified bleat, Millie buries her face in my chest. I can’t decide if her reaction to being caught making out with me amuses me or pisses me off.