Chapter 17 #2
Instinctively, my arms swing around, drawing her closer to me. It takes less than ten seconds to breathe her scent in, the combination of coconut and ocean appeasing my nostrils. Juli places her hands on my forearms, her fingers dragging lazily up and down the skin.
With her this close, my cock takes notice, thinking it’s time to come out and play. I inhale, willing it to behave. It’s not time yet, not until later. If Juli feels me getting hard underneath her, she doesn’t let it show.
We sit cuddled on the chair for a good thirty minutes. My attention for the movie is half-hearted at best, my mind wandering back to the fun times of this week. When our beers and bowl of popcorn are empty, she hurries back in for refills.
We’ve each drunk two beers, but I hardly feel anything. Not accustomed to drinking heavily, I would think they’d affect me more, but they only seem to make things relating to Juli more acute.
The way her breath hitches every so often.
How she shifts her ass from side to side, trying to get more comfortable.
The way she cuddles up closer, bringing her legs to her chest.
As the movie draws to a close, Juli reaches her hand back, rubbing up and down my neck. Couldn’t tell you if it’s for comfort or something else, but I don’t dare ask, allowing her to take the lead on what we do next.
She flips herself, resting her thighs on the side of mine. Her eyes full of lust, she closes the gap between our mouths. Her tongue darts out, skimming the bottom lip before disappearing.
“We should take this inside. This chair can’t be comfortable for you.”
“With you so close, I didn’t notice.” Which isn’t the complete truth, but my focus was hardly on how uncomfortable the chair is. It was more attuned to keeping certain appendages under control. “If that’s what you want, lead the way.”
I expect her to spryly jump up, but she doesn’t move right away. Instead, her mouth inches closer, her lips parting. At the last moment, she brings them to mine, intending on a chaste kiss. But I’m not having it.
Careful not to let her fall, I stand up, my arms gripping below her ass.
Our mouths connected, her legs wrap around my waist. For a minute, I relish the kiss, the feel of our lips fused, under their own control.
I give Juli full rein, letting her set the pace, dominating the kiss.
She doesn’t abuse the power, and soon I’m pulling away for a breather. And also to get us inside.
“Hang on tight, cutie.”
She giggles against my mouth, my lips vibrating with the feel. Man, I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to give this up. This is too good.
That thought in mind, I start for the bedroom, not caring that the slider stays open. My heart races knowing what’s coming, but I don’t want to go fast. I want this time—our probable last time—to be slow, a culminating act to the whirlwind of the week.
“Make love to me, Cameron.”
Her words are my undoing.
She melds our lips again, slower this time, as if to set the pace for what she wants.
And I want it, too. I’ve wanted nothing more in my life than to be here in this moment, a gorgeous girl in my bed, wanting what I have to offer.
Because right now, I can give her what she wants. The same can’t be true once we’re done.
We take our time, kissing, connecting on a deeper level than any other time this week.
As we fall over the precipice together, our eyes locked on each other, I stare into Juli’s soul and wonder how it could ever feel this good with someone else.
It’s a fleeting thought as I bring my attention back to her beauty, but damn if she doesn’t imprint herself on my heart.
My name on her lips as she comes is the melody the soundtrack of my life has been missing. And yet, it’s out of key.
Mine and Juli’s song will barely make the playlist.
Pulling out slowly, I roll off her, leaving the condom around my limp dick. I’m too tired—no, sated—to get up and deal with it now.
“That was . . . too good for words. And worth every ache, pain, and all the soreness I’m bound to feel tomorrow. A great ending to an incredible week.”
My brain cringes at the whole “ending” part. It’s unavoidable, yet it hurts to hear.
“Best week I never planned for. Thanks for letting me crash your vacation.”
“As if I had a choice.” Her voice confirms it’s not a dig.
It’s more of “I tried not to give in, but it wasn’t happening” kind of comment.
I’ll take some of the responsibility. Not the blame, but the responsibility for her wanting to spend the time with me when she was here for a different reason.
She lays her head on my chest, and as much as I want to cuddle, the condom’s bugging me.
“Hold that position. Be right back.”
In the adjoining bathroom, I dispose of the condom and grab a washcloth, wetting it under the water so it’s damp. Waiting for me, she’s got her thighs spread open, and it takes but a minute to clean them up before she’s back in my arms.
“What time is it?”
“Haven’t a clue.” Based on the way my stomach rumbles, it’s probably close to being mealtime.
She grabs my wrist. “Where’s your watch?”
“On the nightstand.” My arms tug her closer, and I lean back against the pillows, allowing my eyes to shut.
Giving up on her quest for the time, she burrows deeper, her head fitting into the crook of my shoulder. “I need food soon. Especially because of my last night Bushwacker. So maybe, a bit of cuddling, a shower—together to save time—and then we’ll grab dinner and drinks at The Drift?”
“Fine. But no talking while we cuddle.”
“Sure thing, bossman.” A giggle accompanies her words, but she follows my orders.
I don’t know how long we cuddle, but I savor every minute. My body’s in no rush to get out of bed, get cleaned up, or leave the confines of our suite. But for Juli, I’ll make the sacrifice.
“Don’t get used to this.”
Juli’s charged comment incites action. I wonder for a moment why she’s spoken at all.
Did I give her any indication I wanted more than she’s given me?
That after tomorrow, I won’t let her go?
I scroll through all our conversations, none of which centered on a label or definition of what this week was, nor did I imply I would “get used to this.” I’m about to speak, but she lumbers from the bed.
Though it’s not like I don’t follow her.
She’s already half in the shower. “New towels are out there. Grab me one?”
“In a minute.” I don’t want to fight with her, but we can’t keep skirting around the issue.
Call me na?ve, but I don’t want to go a decade without speaking to her, not knowing what she’s up to, not being at least a friend.
If only through texts and phone calls rather than updates from her brother.
“Why shouldn’t I get used to this?” My tone’s harsher than I intend, but that’s not what has her halting.
Despite my punitive tone, her expression remains soft and neutral. “It was a reminder to me. As wonderful as this has all been, come tomorrow at this time, you won’t be there. Not to do any of what we did this week. As much as I would like you to be.”
My mind a bit blown, I have to collect my thoughts on how to reply. What I say back to her. It’s not exactly an invitation for more, but it’s an opening.
Thoughts churn, my brain working a mile a minute to keep up with them. To distance myself, I leave the bathroom, retrieving the pile of clean towels from the table. I don’t rush back, trying to make sense of her comment, thinking of a comeback.
Whether it’s rooted in reality, “more” doesn’t really exist for Juli and me. And not only because of the physical distance separating us.
Back in the bathroom, the water rushes out, raining down on Juli. Smoke billows from the heat of the water.
The glass door’s still open, and after resting the towels on a shelf, I step inside.
I spin her around, cupping her cheeks. “Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to say. This always had an expiration date.” A sense of hope wafts off as she nibbles the bottom lip into her mouth.
“We never set parameters.”
“We didn’t.”
A bubble of hope surges inside me, matching hers. But I have to tamp it down.
What would a relationship with Juli look like?
If we entertained the idea. Long weekends here and there?
Sexting over phone calls? She deserves more.
Someone who can be there when she’s done with work.
Someone who will take her to her favorite restaurants, buy her favorite drinks.
Someone who could shower her with gifts, spoil her just because.
As much as I wish it could be me, I’m not that person.
Blowing out a breath above her head, the balloon pops, squashing her dream as well.
“We’ll still be friends. Keep in touch. Share the funny things about our lives.” As I say the words, I know they’re somewhat of a lie.
Do I want to stay friends with her? Absolutely.
Do I want to keep in touch? Without a doubt.
Do I want her to share the funny things about her life?
Nope. Because I’m selfish that way. I want to be the one who makes her laugh, who’s on the receiving end of her jokes, who makes her blush inappropriately in front of her friends.
I want to go to bed and wake up next to her every night.
I want to have lots of sex and make love and do all the things we only touched on this week. I want it all.
My reality is, I’ll never be that guy for her. A vacation fling is all I can offer.
My words sink in slowly. I can’t tell if the droplets dripping down her face are from the shower water or tears. If it’s the latter, I don’t know how long I can handle them.
Actually, I’m certain I can’t.
“I’m sorry, Jude. Sorry for it all.”
I bring my lips to hers. Hers only part to release a gasp, but I cover them anyway, swallowing her surprise. Her anguish. Her disappointment.
Under the rain showerhead, I’m not gentle with the kiss. I take what I need from her. For myself. When she tries for more, I pull away.
“Finish your shower. I’ll jump in when you’re done.” I don’t give her the option of saying no.
Grabbing a towel from the clean stack, I exit the bathroom, my heart and head more of a mess.