by Amelia Shea
He arched his brow. “This guy gives you the fuck of your life, and then you end it?” He paused. “Sounds like bullshit to me.”
Fuck! Why was he so damn insistent on digging deeper? Why wouldn’t he just leave it alone? It was almost methodical the way his mind worked. She had a suspicion these were calculated questions. Of course, they were. Kase had an agenda that had nothing to do with getting to know her. But why? Had she been in a less alcohol- induced state, she may have been able to figure it out.
“He a dick, stop calling, fucking around on ya?”
“No.” She straightened her shoulders. Lucas had been the complete opposite.
The corner of his mouth curved in a sinister smirk. “We done sharing?”
She cocked her brow. “So far, you’ve shared nothing.”
“Never claimed to be an open book.” He took a drag from his cigarette. “That’s on you, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. It wasn’t said with the usual endearing tone, but it did seem to roll off his tongue without hesitation. She was probably reading into it too much. For all she knew, he called everyone sweetheart, though he didn’t seem the type.
She smiled. “Sweetheart, huh? We’ve evolved to pet names now?”
His eyes darkened, sending a heated rush from her stomach to her core.
“Finish.”
Why couldn’t they go back to flirting? She swallowed back the knot in her throat. Just talking about it was sobering her up.
“Honestly?”
“No, fucking lie to me.”
She snickered and inhaled a deep breath. Here goes…
“I have trust issues.” Trusting the wrong people to be exact. When the truth came to light about Jared, it had rocked her world; she had been blindsided. A man she’d loved, devoted her life to, had turned on her in the ultimate betrayal.
“Fuck.” He snorted. “Who doesn’t?” He leaned forward, grabbed the bottle from the ground, and filled his glass. He glanced up at her glass, pausing a second before dropping it back to the ground. She furrowed her brows and opened her mouth, but he cut her off.
“What happened with the guy?”
Oh, just tell him. The quicker she ended the subject, the quicker they could move on.
She sighed. “He wanted more than I was willing to give.”
“Anal?”
She burst out laughing, spitting out a mouthful of whiskey. It took a minute to recover, and oddly enough she wasn’t embarrassed he’d witnessed her drunken display.
“Kase, we gotta hang out more.” She sighed, reached for the bottle, and poured another glass.
“Finish.”
She darted her eyes in his direction. Even without looking, she could feel the weight of his stare. He wouldn’t let it go. Maybe it was the whiskey, or just having another person to hang out with. Maybe her loneliness was catching up to her. Kase would be the last person she’d expect to open up to.
“Lucas invited me to dinner with his friends. He wanted everyone to meet me. He wanted to come over to my house, order takeout, and binge watch this series we were both addicted to.” She forced a smile and watched his head cock to the side. He was waiting on a horrific confession, like he beat her, got drunk, and turned crazy. But none of that happened. “He wanted to take me away to the beach for the weekend. His family owned a boat, and he talked about wanting to watch the sunset with me.”
She snorted, and then finished off her drink and closed her eyes. Lucas had been a nice guy. Weren’t they all at the beginning? Seeing a man’s true colors wouldn’t come out in a few dates. She would have to open herself up, let a man in. No fucking way.
She jerked her gaze to find Kase intently watching her. Kase was invested in hearing the whole story. She shook her head with a soft chuckle. The irony wasn’t lost on her. The one thing she was trying to avoid with men was unfolding in front of her.
“He wanted a relationship.” Phoebe paused.
Kase’s brows furrowed. “I thought women loved that shit?”
She shook her head, dazed. “Not this one.”
Lucas had been a sweet guy, fantastic in bed, and would make some girl very happy. That girl isn’t me. I was ruined. He deserved more than someone who couldn’t give everything. She didn’t have anything to give.
“Some asshole fucked you over good, huh?”
She stared down at the fire.
Jared dug into my soul and gripped my heart into an agonizing hold, twisted it through a torturous pain, and ripped the fucking thing out of my chest.
She sipped her drink and rested her head against the back of the chair. “Yeah, he did.”
****
He watched her for the next minute as she remained silent. The mood had taken a drastic turn. Her glow had dimmed, and she seemed lost in the silence. It should have been his cue to head out. The heart to heart deep talks were never his thing. He wasn’t built to handle weepy women. Though, Phoebe didn’t seem on the verge of a female heartbreaking meltdown. He’d been witness to a few in his time, mostly with members and their old ladies. She wasn’t displaying anything more than regret if he had to guess.
Phoebe remained silently focused on the fire. Her openness had caught him off guard. It was rare for most people to share anything in depth with him other than those closest to him. It took trust, which Phoebe should not have with him. Even being the bastard that he was, he knew the guts it took to share intimate details with a virtual stranger. Unknowingly, she was giving him ammunition to use against her. A weakness.
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure about using it.
He should have made her the new offer and left. Hanging out with her hadn’t been a consideration—until she started in with her clever banter. In his head, he knew to the get hell out of there, but he stayed. Just as he was doing now. Why the hell am I still fucking here?
She shifted in her seat, bending her knees and settling her feet on the chair. With her arm wrapped around her legs, she rested her chin on her knees. She seemed almost vulnerable as she stared back at the fire. It was a far cry from the Phoebe he’d seen previously. When she licked her lips, his gaze was drawn to her mouth, which was tugged into a small somber frown.
He wasn’t sure what bothered him more. Her sadness or his unrelenting desire to console her.
Do not fucking touch her.
He clasped his mouth, dragging his hand down over his beard and eyeing her.
“You all right?” No, she isn’t fucking all right, asshole. Phoebe didn’t come across as the type to wear her heart on her sleeve. She had revealed more than he expected and probably more than she did. It seemed to have set her back in time of sorts. He clenched his jaw, staring back at her.
“Yeah, sorry.” Her head was bowed.
Look at me. He wanted those blue eyes on him. Even in the dark, they glowed, and he wanted them staring back at him.
“Hey.” He sounded harsher than he intended. She needed a distraction. When she glanced up, he sighed. Fuck! He licked his lips. “Last fuck was a foursome.”
His admission could go one of two ways. Disgusted or impressed. It took her a second, and her eyes darted up, and the corner of her lip curled. The air around them shifted.
“You had a foursome? As in four people having sex? With each other? At the same time?” She shifted in her seat, practically hanging over the arm.
It fucking worked.
Her expression was worth the risk. He slowly nodded and sipped his whiskey.
She widened her eyes. “Two couples?”
He twisted his lips. “Fuck, no. Me and three women.”
Her bottom lip fell open, and she shifted in her chair again, putting only a foot of distance between them. His plan had worked and backfired at the same time. She was no longer upset. In fact, she seemed to be bubbling over with excitement and intrigue. His distraction had worked. However, it also sent her closer to him. Dangerously close. While he tried his best to ignore the attraction, he wanted her. Physical dista
nce was imperative to keep his hands off her.
Her next move only tested his control. She grasped his wrist. Her grip was tight, but he felt her soft caress sweep across his skin. Fuck. Not good.
“How does that even work?” She leaned closer and eyed his jeans, and then trailed up to his mouth. She was mentally counting how he could please three women at once. When she glanced up, catching his stare, he waggled his fingers, which were wrapped around his glass.
“Shut up!” She fell back in her chair, laughing. “Oh my God, Kase.” She covered her mouth and curled her feet up under her ass in the seat. “You win. Even hot sex with Lucas can’t top a foursome.” She laughed, the sound of her giggle echoing in the trees.
Her blonde streaks swept across her forehead, shadowing one eye. Those fucking eyes. Without thinking, he reached out, swiping her hair behind her ear for no other reason than wanting to see both her eyes. His fingers caressed down the side of her face, and she nestled her cheek against the pads of his fingers.
Get the fuck up and leave, asshole. He dropped his hand to the arm of the chair.
“Kase.” She leaned closer, her voice low and breathy. “We should have sex.”
He was lifting his glass when she spoke and stopped in mid-air.
“What the hell did you just say?”
She smirked. “I think it’ll solidify our bond as neighbors, don’t ya think?”
He turned his head and furrowed his brows.
“What the fuck is in that glass?”
She was drunk, and she had been for the past hour. However, she hadn’t been off the fucking rails. Hell, she wasn’t even slurring her words or falling over herself. She must have been able to contain it better than most. It was the only reasonable conclusion.
“C’mon. Aren’t you tired of all those young beautiful girls with huge boobs and round asses and legs that go on for days?” She smirked playfully. “When was the last time you had sex with a middle-aged woman with decent looks and a killer sense of humor?” She winked. “Aren’t you even curious?”
This was fucked. Not the proposition, but how she just described herself. Decent looks? Fuck, this was probably one of the most beautiful women he’d set eyes on. And he’d stared at her enough to know that her tits were a perfect handful, and her ass, while slightly larger than he was used to, he liked it. A lot. Now, she was offering it up to him. He clenched his jaw. Walk the fuck away.
She sat up in her seat, practically bouncing on her knees. She had to be teasing him. He eyed her carefully. Was she testing him? She had to be. Phoebe wasn’t the type to go around offering sex to men she barely knew. He’d had countless encounters with women from the club who had been virtual strangers. It was a common occurrence in his lifestyle. Not Phoebe’s. She’s fucking with me.
“Okay, let me set up the scenario, and you tell me if you’d follow through, okay?”
At this point he was humoring her. He knew she was full of shit, but curious to see how far she’d take it. He’d play her game.
“All right.”
She smiled and pushed off her chair, standing up. Just the view of her body was enough to get him hard. And it did. His cock jutted forward, pressing against his zipper. He sucked in a breath and grinded his teeth.
“If I strip down, right now, right here, would you fuck me?”
Bullshit. She was bluffing. Even in her drunken state, she didn’t have the balls to do it.
He snorted. “I’d tell ya to lay off the fucking booze.”
She gripped the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head. She tossed her shirt to the side without even losing his stare. Fuck! Middle-aged, my fucking ass. Her toned stomach led up to her breasts pouring out of her hot pink bra. From the cleavage alone, his breath labored. She smiled and reached behind her back. Oh hell, no. If she took off her bra, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Not when he knew exactly what was underneath. He’d seen the move enough times to know she was unsnapping her bra. He’d called it wrong; she wasn’t bluffing. Shit.
He swiftly reached out and grabbed her wrist. It was meant to halt the striptease. Like most things that night, it backfired. Phoebe lost her balance and fell forward into his lap. Her hands grasped his chest, and he circled her waist to keep her from falling to the ground. The move propped her ass directly against his cock and her lips a breath away from his mouth. Her hands curved over his chest, hooking around his neck. It was slow motion, plenty of time to pull away or turn his head. Unfortunately, Kase didn’t have the restraint.
He clawed his hands into her ass, yanking her closer. Fuck, don’t do it. It was too late. She pressed her lips against his mouth. He was done. He angled his head as her lips parted, and he felt her warm breath filter into his mouth. His tongue slid past her soft lips, sliding into her mouth. He’d kissed thousands; it was an act as common as washing his hands. Something was different with Phoebe. He felt her need, her desire—he felt everything.
Her teeth grazed over his bottom lip as her ass pressed against his cock. The combination set him off, and he dug his fingers into her ass, pulling her closer. Her hands were everywhere, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. His reaction was no different. He gripped her jaw, gaining a better access, a closer connection to deepen the kiss. Her tongue tangled over his in a silky caress, setting a fire through his chest.
A loud rumbling echo in the background was all it took for reality to strike. It was a sharp whip to his chest and a siren of warning bells blasting in his ears. What the fuck am I doing? He was seconds away from stripping her down and fucking her in her back yard.
He tightened his hand on her ass and jerked his head to the side. “Stop.”
Her lips grazed the shell of his ear. “No.” Her nails bit into his neck. He was at the brink, the point of no return. If she didn’t stop, he’d have her naked in record time.
He grabbed her waist with both hands, finding it next to impossible to push her away. “We do this, you’ll regret it in the morning.”
“Not if you make me come, I won’t.” She giggled, sending the soft vibration shooting straight to his dick.
Kase closed his eyes, fighting against the feel of her mouth on his neck, and he drew in a harsh breath. “I will.”
Her mouth froze against his neck. It was a brief second before she slowly released his chest and sat back, staring at him. The heated glaze was shadowed by something he couldn’t pinpoint. Shock? Disappointment? Her entire face shaded to a deep pink. That would be embarrassment, asshole. Before he could say anything else, she climbed off his lap.
She rushed to the ground, grabbing her shirt and turning away from him as she slid it back on.
He waited with her back to him. Why the hell was he feeling guilty? He was saving her ass from morning regret.
What the fuck was he supposed to do now? The seconds felt like hours as he stared at her back with her hair falling forward. She jerked around, but kept her gaze on the ground with her head slightly bowed.
“You’re seriously turning me down?” She forced a laugh, but he knew it was fake.
Fuuuuuuck! This night had turned to shit in five fucking seconds.
Kase cleared his throat and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, I am.”
She nodded but refused to meet his stare. Fucking look at me. She didn’t and curled her hair around her ear.
“I’m gonna go, but thanks for hanging with me.” Through her thin shirt he could see her heart pounding in her chest. “Bye.” She turned so quickly she stumbled, but caught herself.
He shot up from his chair. “Phoebe,” he snapped with an edge, demanding she look at him. She ignored him and increased her pace until she disappeared around the house.
He drove his hand through his hair, tugging hard at the ends. “Fuck!”
He waited longer than necessary. The lights were still gleaming in her house, but he knew she wasn’t coming back out. He broke down the fire and walked back to the clubhouse. The party was going stro
ng, but he wasn’t feeling it.
“Hey, Kase.” Nadia sidled up next to him as he started down the hall. “You okay?”
“Not fucking now, Nad.” He continued down the hall to his room, ignoring everyone.
He slammed the door shut and locked it behind him. He didn’t need anyone coming in behind him. Kase paced around his room like a caged animal. He did the right thing. If he’d fucking taken her, it would only end with regret on both their parts.
She’d regret having him in her bed.
He’d regret getting a taste of something he couldn’t have.
Chapter Six
She stood over the sink washing her hands, taking quick glances in the mirror. Two days later, she was still finding it hard to look at herself without shuddering in embarrassment. For all the humiliating acts she’d done in her past, her night with Kase would teeter as number one on her list.
She dried her hands and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She shook her head in utter disgust. “You are never to drink whiskey with him again. You hear me?”
Yep, loud and clear. I heard you yesterday morning, heard you after lunch, heard you last night, heard you in bed, in the yard, at the desk.
She cringed at her obsessive chants. If she reminded herself enough times, she was sure history would not repeat itself. She closed her eyes and groaned. Embarrassment had a funny way of shifting the brain to two personalities. The drunk free spirit and the sober reality-minded one. If she could go back to that night, she wouldn’t have even opened the door. How does one person make so many mistakes in one night?
Whiskey.
“Whiskey,” she muttered, and pried open her eyes. She pursed her lips and drove her hand through her hair.
She had been avoiding Kase since their last encounter. The morning after her failed attempt at seduction, she was nursing her excruciating hangover and, on her couch, licking her wounded ego. The man had probably bedded hundreds of women, and he flat out turned her down. It was a hard rejection. So hard that when her doorbell rang the next morning, she slithered into her couch, muted the TV, and covered her head with her blanket. Thirty-fucking-two years old and she was hiding. Pathetic.