14. Bottled Feelings #2
“Because,” she breathes, her voice suddenly softer, the anger melting away. Her eyes meet mine, and there’s a vulnerability I wasn’t expecting. Shit. She’s as tangled up in this mess as I am. “This will only get messier. We’re too different.”
I brush a stray lock of hair from her face, my fingers grazing her cheek. Her skin is soft, warm, and everything in me wants to hold onto her .
“We didn’t feel all that different at the lodge,” I whisper, my hand lingering on her face, my thumb tracing the curve of her jaw.
She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to steel herself.
There’s something new on her face when she opens them again. Not the sadness I expected, but something heavier. Regret. Longing. I hate that I’m the one putting it there. Hate that I’m also the reason she won’t walk away.
“We need to forget about that,” she says, quietly. “Push it aside… try to be civil to one another until this whole thing is over. Until you go back to your life in the city, and I…”
“And you go back to your boyfriend, Eli?” My voice cuts in fast. Too fast. I already know I’m being a petty dick, but the image of her tangled up in someone else’s sheets pisses me off.
“Boyfriend? Seriously?” Her face contorts with disbelief, then softens into a ragged laugh. “Brody,” she says, her voice softer now, worn at the edges. “Eli’s a friend. That’s all he’s ever been.”
Well, that certainly knocks the wind out of my jealousy sails. The tension in my chest lets up, and my shoulders actually drop for the first time in days. My grip on this situation… doesn’t feel quite so desperate.
“The thought of you with him… or anyone else…” I can’t finish the sentence. It sticks in my throat like a knife turned sideways.
She whimpers, an involuntary sound, high-pitched and helpless, and she softens again. I take that as permission. My hands are already on her waist, pulling her into me, and my mouth crashes against hers in a kiss that’s anything but careful.
She meets me halfway, fingers twisting in my shirt. The heat surges between us, electric and unbearable. This isn’t gentle. This is two people unraveling at the seams, trying to stitch themselves back together with mouths and hands and want.
“I love the way you taste,” I breathe against her lips, my voice thick, dark with want.
I press her back against the nearest gazebo post, the wood biting into her spine as I slot my hips against hers.
She gasps, and the sound rips through me, sending blood surging south with painful urgency.
Every part of me aches for her, and the fact that we’re out in the open where anyone could see only makes it more intense.
Around us, the band is still playing and the night air is filled with the hum of voices and music, but it’s all background noise. Now, it’s only me and Chloe.
“Brody…” She breathes, her voice laced with that same hesitation, that same logic that’s always trying to pull us apart. As she says it, her hip rock against me, her body giving away what her mind won’t.
My dick twitches, filling with a rush of arousal at her touch, her breath, the slight moan she gives when I lean harder into her. My body is listening to the way she moves against me. The way her breath comes quicker. The way she presses herself into me, like she needs this as much as I need her.
She doesn’t push me away. Doesn’t say a word. Just keeps her hands tangled in my shirt like she needs me close to breathe. I slide one palm down the curve of her hip and into her pants, no hesitation. No teasing this time. I need to feel her.
My fingers dip beneath her underwear, sliding through the wet heat already waiting for me. I groan into her mouth, unable to stop the sound. She’s soaked. So damn ready. And it’s all for me.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, voice low, rasping against the shell of her ear. “Tell me if you want me to keep going.”
She doesn’t answer. Not with words. But her hips roll into my hand, and her thighs tremble slightly as I circle her clit with deliberate pressure. That’s enough.
“Is this for me?” I drag my finger with maddening slowness over her hard, pulsing clit. Knowing it’ll drive her crazy.
Chloe whimpers again, louder this time. Her thighs quiver under the strain of her arousal and she clutches my shoulders with both hands, fingers digging in.
She’s so wet, my finger glides easily up and down, until I dip lower. She sucks in a sharp breath, and her eyes lock with mine, greenest green on fire.
“ Tell me,” I whisper against her lips, nipping and tugging as I speak. The whole time, I’m playing with her pussy with the tip of my finger, dipping, circling, teasing her. “Say it for me.”
A tremulous breath rushes out of her, and she nods quickly. “Yes, I want you. I want this.”
She seems angry at herself for having to admit it, and that alone makes my dick harder.
“That’s my girl.” I smirk, slipping my finger inside her.
She squirms, grinding her pussy against my open palm for more friction, her breath catching with each stroke.
“You get this wet over me. Tell me, Chloe. Do you touch yourself and imagine it’s my fingers inside you? Moving like this?”
I drive my finger deep, curling it to find that spot that makes her shudder. Her pussy clenches, tight and pulsing, and I swear to God, if I had my cock inside her right now, I’d lose it. Her head falls back, lips parted, her body giving me everything I need to know.
She moans, soft and helpless, and it's the most honest sound I’ve ever heard.
No walls, no act, only her unraveling for me.
Her arms wrap around my neck, and she lifts one leg, hitching it around my waist, opening herself to me completely.
Her nails dig into my shoulders, anchoring herself as my finger moves faster, deeper.
She tenses in my arms, and just when I think she’s going to be overcome with convulsions as her climax tears through her, she presses her palms against my chest, and with a sudden shove forces me back.
I pull away, stepping back, my mind clouded with lust, my cock throbbing in my pants. “What the fuck?”
She avoids looking at me, her hands fumbling with her clothes, straightening her top and smoothing down her hair like it’s the only thing keeping her sane.
“This is a bad idea. We shouldn’t start something we can’t finish.
” Her voice wavers enough for me to know she doesn’t believe a damn word she’s saying.
“If you gave it a few more seconds…” I step toward her, but she takes a quick step back, eyes bl azing with that fierce defiance that somehow makes her more irresistible.
“You know what I mean,” she snaps. The regret pooling in her eyes, like she’s walking away from something she wants as much as I do. And yet… “It’s what’s best for both of us. For Bluepeak.”
Bluepeak. Right. Always with the damn town.
I open my mouth, desperate to say something, anything, to make her stay.
All I can do is stand here like an idiot, watching her walk away, back to the peak humdinger, or whatever the fuck this town’s gathering is called.