An almost embarrassed expression crosses his face briefly. “That’s my advice.”
I lock eyes with his, swallowing hard, as I reach between our bodies and wrap my fist around his length, making long strokes. “Then stop cockblocking me, cuz I’m really trying to seize this one,” I whisper.
Rhett stares intently for a moment, like he’s battling some internal demons, before gripping my hips and lifting me so I can wrap my legs around his waist. His mouth molds to mine, tongue plunging urgently in and out as he backs me up to the floating trampoline, my back pressing into the rough fabric.
I reach down, guiding his thick cock to my opening, not thinking of anything but quelling the ache that’s growing by the second between my thighs. The tip brushes over my clit, and I swear I’ve fucking died and gone to heaven.
Then he sends me crashing back to earth with a lone word. “No.” It’s whispered against my lips. Soft, but sure. I feel it. I hear it. But no part of me understands it. Could he be worried about pregnancy? It’s the only logical excuse for his pulling away literally seconds from sealing the deal.
“I’m on the pill, Rhett. It’s okay.” Again, I shift to line up our centers, and once again he denies me.
“Not tonight.” He’s serious, and I’m irrationally angry that this world-famous manwhore doesn’t want me.
“I came here to get fucked, Hollywood. Are you gonna give me my money’s worth, or do I need to find it elsewhere?”
We’re locked in a stare down when I feel his fingers, two—no, maybe three—slip between my folds. I’m still angry for being denied, but I haven’t been touched in so long, and the way he’s thrusting and grunting, lapping at my breast…Jesus, I can’t think about anything but chasing this feeling.
“Oh, God. Rhett. Please don’t stop.”
“That’s it. Give it to me, baby girl,” he croons, taking my left nipple into his mouth and biting down gently.
My hands are everywhere—pulling at his hair, scoring his back. I rock and writhe and take, and he gives and gives, expecting nothing in return.
“Look at me,” he orders, as his thumb presses against my clit, stroking gently, lighting every cell of my body on fire. “I want those pretty eyes on me when you come.” My pussy clenches, and I explode around his fingers. Rhett captures my scream, fucking my mouth with his tongue while I bask in the aftershocks of the greatest orgasm of my life.
“Wake up, hussy.”
Raven. “Go away. I’m on vacation.” I swat at the air blindly, hoping to connect with her irritating face.
“Your cousin has the most beautiful di—” she singsongs.
“Stop!” I shout, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Not another word. Ew.” My other hand goes right to my forehead, trying to stop the room from spinning.
Her cynical laughter fills the cabin and sends my head pounding. Stupid hangover. “Fine. But it was really good.”
“Happy for you.”
“Did you know it was pierced?” she asks, bouncing up and down on the bed with excitement.
Okay, now I’m gagging. “He’s my cousin, Raven. Why would I know any details about his penis?”
With a slight shrug and the devil in her eyes, she continues badgering me. “What about you?” she taunts. “How was Mr. Taylor? Did he live up to his reputation?”
My brain is a fog of bits and pieces of the night before. Dancing by the fire. Skinny dipping in the bay. The crush of being denied. I scoff. “That motherfucker rejected me!”
Raven’s eyes narrow in disbelief. “Uh. Just how much did you have to drink? Cuz I watched him carry your naked ass into this cabin last night, and you both had hearts in your eyes.”
“Is that how I got here?” I glance down at the A&M tee I don’t remember changing into. But there’s a lot about last night I can’t seem to see clearly.
“Oh, girl. He was gloriously naked too. You may not be able to walk today,” she giggles. “They weren’t lying…he must’ve had that thing enhanced.”
I clench my thighs together. “Yeah, well, not all of the rumors are true.”
“Oh, no?” she asks, eyes wide. “Tell me what mysteries you’ve uncovered.”
Swallowing hard, I throw my head back on the pillow. “He doesn’t fuck just anything with a hole between its legs.” I have the sudden urge to cry, and that just pisses me off. I feel so humiliated.
“You sure?” Rave questions. “He carried you to bed and riffled through your bag for clothes…Girl, he even tucked you in and kissed your forehead before leaving.”
“What a fucking psycho.” I shake my head, rolling over and climbing out of my bunk to head for the bathroom, all the while fighting the urge to be sick. And it’s more than just a hangover.
Chapter 11
Rhett
“Damn, someone’s awake and moving around early this morning,” Nick announces when I join him on the front porch in time to watch the sun rise. He’s never been much of a sleeper, a side-effect of his ADHD. He usually takes advantage of those quiet hours to compose music, so while I’m sure it’s frustrating, his insomnia is a bit of a blessing.
“Couldn’t sleep.” I stare out into the distance at the ocean, drowning in memories of Korie’s naked form with the reflection of the moon on the bay as the perfect backdrop. The way her head was thrown back in ecstasy, the tips of her hair dipping into the water. Shit. I can still hear her sweet moans and feel the heat of her breath on my neck.
The scraping sound of Nick setting his cup of coffee on the wrought iron table between our chairs pulls me from my thoughts. He furrows his brow, eying me curiously. “You’re not losing sleep over my little cousin, are you?”
I consider lying for the briefest of moments, but who am I kidding? With all the hours Nick and I spend writing songs together, he knows me better than just about anyone else. There’s an intimacy that comes with that sort of collaborative creativity, and he’d be able to see right through my bullshit, so I give it to him straight. “I think I might really like her.”
“She’s too good for you.” Well, damn. Tell me how you really feel.
He’s right. But that knowledge doesn’t mean his lack of faith doesn’t still piss me off. “I’m good enough to fuck her, but nothing more? Do you even hear yourself right now?”
“Rhett, she’s a grown woman. If Korie wants to fuck around with a rock star and brag to all of her friends, that’s on her,” he shrugs. “But her heart is another matter entirely.”
My hands clench the wooden arms of my chair so tight I’m surprised they don’t splinter. With my teeth gritted, I push up to standing. “That’s not your call to make.” I don’t know why I’m getting all worked up over a chick I barely know, but my blood is racing.
“You’re right,” he answers with a slow nod. “But as your friend, I’m asking you not to force her back into this life. There’s a reason you only met her a few weeks ago. She’s never wanted anything to do with it.”
“I said I liked her. Chill.” My laughter sounds off, even to my own ears. “I’m not proposing marriage.”
I push this morning’s encounter with Nick to the back of my mind as we head out to the field for today’s color wars, eager to lay eyes on her again. I haven’t felt butterflies like this since I first started performing on stage, and certainly never over a woman. I wonder if it happens the same with love—if the fluttering just lessens and lessens until you can’t even remember when it stopped. Until you’re just going through the motions. Until you reach a point where you know the love still exists deep down but can’t say why.
Fuck. That shit’s depressing.
“Hey, you guys!” Essie shouts into a megaphone. She and her husband are dressed in head to toe camo, face paint and all. “Today is the culmination of four days of healthy competition and what we hope will become lifelong friendships. We’ve decided to shake things up and pair off in boy/girl teams for the paintball competition. Joe will flip a coin. If heads wins, the gentlemen get to pick their pa
rtners. If tails is the winner, it will be ladies’ choice.”
Murmurs ring out among the campers, some whispering words of excitement and others sounding less than thrilled about the change up. I can’t get a read on Korie, because she hasn’t once looked my way since she and Raven arrived nearly ten minutes ago. For this reason, my stomach does a somersault when Joe tosses the coin into the air.
“Please, please, please,” I mutter beneath my breath when Essie crouches to the ground to announce the results of the coin toss.
“Heads it is!” she calls, holding up the evidence for all to see.
“Korie’s mine,” I declare to the other eleven guys standing around me, just in case any of them had any thoughts of claiming her.
Nick’s up to choose first. Of course he is, because he’s the only one with the balls to step on me.
“Don’t you fucking do it, Nick,” I growl, when he looks back at me with a shit-eating grin.
His eyes of course go straight to Korie and Raven. My palms are sweating by the time he finally makes his call. “Get over here, Raven.” Thank God he chose with his dick over his head.
When Stick’s shoulders slump, I no longer have to wonder if she’s angry with me. I know. I’m just not sure why. What the hell could have happened between the mind-blowing orgasm I gave her last night and this morning?
Three other guys are called to pick partners before me, and I watch her deflate a little more each time her name isn’t called.
“Rhett, you’re up. Pick your poison,” Joe says, slapping me on the back as I approach him and Essie.
Poison. What an apt description. Never has a woman had me so drugged.
“I choose…” My eyes drift through each of the seven girls still standing, finally landing on the blonde whose head is rapidly shaking side to side, her lips pursed in an angry pout. “Stick.”
“Dammit to hell!” she shouts, stomping over to join me.
“Lovely to see you too.”
Her response is to snatch the light gray jumpsuit from Joe’s hand and shove past me to the line of trees, where she removes her shoes and steps into the legs, shrugs her arms into the sleeves, and pulls the zipper up to her neck, hiding every possible inch of skin she can manage from my lust-filled eyes.
I take a moment to mourn the loss of her sexy legs in the short black Nike shorts before ambling over to join her and donning my own bee suit.
“What’s your problem?” I finally ask when I can’t handle the silence hanging between us.
“You didn’t disappoint,” she answers, coldly.
What the— “And that’s a bad thing?” Why the hell are women so damn confusing?
Her eyes roll as she accepts the goggles from Essie and proceeds to fight with fitting them to her face.
“Here,” I say, taking the rubber straps from her hands. “Let me.”
With a few tugs, the safety glasses are nice and snug.
She doesn’t bother with thanking me but offers a curt nod instead.
“You’re welcome,” I say, before affixing my own goggles to my face.
“Pay attention,” she whisper-hisses when Essie begins going over the game rules. “I don’t like to lose.”
“So, at the top of your guns there is a container called a hopper.” She demonstrates with the weapon in her hand. “This is where you load the ammo. Each hopper will hold two hundred paint balls. Every team has their own color. If you run out, there will be refills located at the center of the arena on this folding table. Keep in mind there will be no cover in this area, so try to conserve your shots and make them count. The object is to be the team with the cleanest uniforms when the buzzer goes off. Play time will be one hour.”
“In other words,” Joe adds, “shoot, and don’t get shot.”
“Thanks for clarifying, hon,” his wife says with an obnoxious eyeroll. “Because what I said was so confusing.”
“Damn,” I grumble, “are you girls all in sync today or what?”
“ ’Scuse me?”
“Just kidding, sunshine. I’m well aware you’re not on your period.”
Chapter 12
Korie
Embarrassment colors my cheeks when I think back to last night... remembering the way I rode his fingers. So pathetic. So desperate.
“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” the smug asshole offers through a cocky grin.
“Well, you should…I have.” I’ve got no doubt the bastard can see right through my lie. I can’t fucking believe he turned me down and that I actually allowed him to pacify me with a finger fuck. He stole any chance I had of hooking up with someone else by monopolizing all of my time and clearly staking his claim, then failed to deliver.
“I can see that.” He snickers, biting his lower lip to contain a laugh.
“Look,” I growl, glancing around to be sure we don’t have an audience. When I find everyone else busily loading their paint ball guns, I continue. “If you’re expecting me to be impressed like your usual groupies, you’re going to be disappointed. Just like I was last night.”
He damn near chokes on his saliva. “That was disappointment?”
“If I wanted to rub one out, I could have done a better job of it myself.”
Rhett stares at me in stunned silence for all of ten seconds before his attention returns to loading blue pellets of paint into his hopper.
He’s annoyingly quiet while we finish loading up and head out to locate our base. Each team begins behind a huge barrel painted in their assigned color. The bases are spread out around the perimeter of the arena, which covers most of the wooded area behind the cabins.
The silence lingers between us. It’s awkward, and I don’t want to be the one to break it. I’m so mad—and so horny—I can hardly think straight. To make matters worse, he smells like a wet dream. Actually, much like the one I had last night after he returned me to my bed, primed and wanting.
When the blowhorn sounds signaling the start of the war, I don’t even think, I just act.
“What the fu—!” Rhett’s gun falls to the ground, his hands both going right for his junk. “We’re on the same fucking team, psycho. What happened to not liking to lose?”
“I don’t.” I shrug, not feeling the least bit sorry. “And now we’re even.”
When his right hand begins to stroke up and down, rubbing out the sting, my mouth goes dry. I try like hell to avert my gaze but can’t rip my eyes away. “Even?” he hisses.
I clear my throat, finally breaking my stare. “Matching blue balls.”
Realization dawns on his face when Joe’s voice sounds through the outdoor speakers. “Campers, you have thirty seconds to evacuate your bases or you’ll be disqualified.”
“He’s talking to us, ya big tit,” I say, retrieving his gun and shoving it into his hands. “Let’s go. Guard my rear.”
“I’d like to do something to your rear, all right,” he mutters, limping behind me to a nearby cover of trees.
“What was tha—” I start, just before the sting of a bullet to the shoulder steals my breath. “Shit. That hurts.”
“I know.”
Okay, so maybe I’m beginning to feel a little bad about popping a cap in his cock at point-blank range. “How’s your dick?”
“Swollen,” he teases, pulling me down on top of him to miss another hit.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” I rasp, trying to control my breathing, wishing I could control my manic heart. There’s no way he doesn’t feel it thrumming on his chest like a damn jackhammer.
“You should probably kiss it…make it feel better.” His right hand lifts to cup my jaw, and he rubs his thumb over my lower lip, waggling his brows.
“Could you be more obnoxious?” I ask, shoving off of him.
“Oh, Stick. Give me a little time, I’m sure I can manage to do much worse.”
“Shit!” I shout when we’re bombarded with shots. In the midst of our arguing, we let our guards down and aren’t even prepared to ret
aliate.
“This way!” Rhett yells, pushing me ahead of him through the trees. We don’t stop running until we find cover behind an old tool shed, where we each take a side, defending our newfound fortress.
After we coat the enemies in blue paint, our attackers move on, and I finally have a moment to breathe.
“Come on.” I look up to find Rhett pulling a loose board back and ushering me inside. “Hurry up.”
“You want me to crawl in there?” I ask, already shaking my head. “There could be rats or roaches or God knows what inside.”
“Already checked it out. Nothin’ but a bit of dust.”
“I don’t want to…” I whine.
“We need a minute to settle things between us. If we stay out here, we’re going to get clobbered before we can utter two words.” Again, his hand waves toward the gap in the boards. “If you want to come out on top, we need a strategy. Fighting like an old married couple doesn’t seem to be working for us.”
I peek around my side of the building, finding we’re still alone. “But isn’t that against the rules?”
“Not if we don’t get caught.” He lifts a brow in challenge. “Scared, Stick?”
He knows just what to say to get me moving. “Not in the least.”
“Good. Move it.”
“Only because you asked so nicely,” I snark, dropping to my knees and crawling through the narrow crack.
Rhett is right behind me, pushing his gun through the opening first and then squeezing his way inside.
“You’re a mess,” I observe when he rises to standing, wiping dust from his hands onto his pants but only managing to coat them in red and yellow paint.
He stares at his palms for a moment before advancing on me. “You’re one to talk.”
“Well,” I stammer, as he backs me into a corner, smearing paint across my forehead with his knuckle, “it’s all your fault.”
“Is it?” His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip and for a moment, I forget my own name.
A knot becomes lodged in my throat as I stare at his mouth, silently willing him to press his lips to mine. I feel faint and can’t remember why we’re just standing here staring at each other. Why he’s looking at me expectantly? Fuck. He probably asked me a damn question, and I was too busy drooling over him to pay attention.
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