by Fields, MJ
Vincent takes another bite of his sandwich, staring at me a little too closely. “What the fuck does it matter to you if she eats the damn bread?”
“Yeah, Slade. What does it matter?” Lauren parrots, picking up a sliced tomato and placing it in her mouth.
She’s … taunting me.
I take another drink. “You’re wasteful. There are people around you who are unfortunate, but you couldn’t be bothered. Girls like you are selfish, sitting on an expensive boat, barely touching the fresh food prepared for you by a chef, and shopping, for fuck’s sake.”
Her face guts from my insult. I’m branding her as a materialistic and selfish bitch with my comment. It’s fucked up, and it’s mean. Most of all, it’s untrue. But I need to create distance, and I don’t know how else to keep her away. It’s a sick attempt at short-circuiting the electricity I feel for her.
“I can’t stand you,” she spits out.
“All right, you guys. Let’s all relax.” Eve comes over, placing her tiny self in Vincent’s lap before whispering, “I hope this is your version of flirting, Slade. Because you’re being an absolute asshole. Lauren doesn’t deserve the way you spoke to her.”
I take my food and walk to the back of the boat, uninterested in hearing shit from Eve. Vincent’s glare reaches me, but I pretend not to notice. Lauren leans against the front, seemingly watching the water. I want to force her to turn her body, so I can watch her face and not her back. I hate her hiding from me.
I watch her like a stalker, memorizing the way she stands with one foot slightly ahead of the other. I can’t look away. My mind teases me with memories of how she moaned beneath me in the backseat of my truck. The way she tastes, like soft, salty caramel. Dancing at the club, her sweat slick between her full breasts. My dick pulses.
I’m in a trance when she steps in front of me, bringing me to the moment.
“I was going to ignore your disgusting comments, but I can’t. I’ve been looking at clothes all this time with Eve because I’m planning on helping some of the women from her shelter find appropriate attire for job interviews. I’m not selfish, and I do realize there are people much less fortunate than I am.” She’s on the defensive, obviously hurt.
“And the bread,” she huffs, brown eyes shaded by her hand against her forehead. “I saved it for you to eat. See? No waste.”
She practically throws it at me. I stare at it, feeling like shit. The way I’ve been acting isn’t me, but how can she know that? She was supposed to hate me for the way I’d behaved—not save the bread, for God’s sake. I want her to understand that my life is not my own. My memories have a strong hold over my life.
I swallow hard, feeling every bit the asshole that I’ve been. I don’t want to be a dick. I just don’t know how else to keep her away. “Look, I didn’t mean that. My behavior … it was fucked, all right? I’ve been going through some rough shit lately. Work’s been hectic. It’s not about you.”
“Yeah. But, when you treat me like shit, you make it about me. You think I’m nothing more than fluff. I hear you loud and clear. But get this, Slade; I couldn’t give a shit what you think about me. So, stop trying to shove your opinions about who I am down my throat. I won’t swallow them.”
She stands up tall, daring me to argue.
“I’ll stop. I know you aren’t fluff.” I inch closer to her, but she doesn’t budge. “Last night, I overstepped. I just need to make sure no lines are crossed. I don’t hate you. Just need to be sure you know the score. And I lost my shit about the food, but that’s my own hang-up.”
“I asked you about how you felt after the shooting, and you freaked out. What line was I crossing then?”
“I’m just not interested in answering personal questions. But, Lauren, I mean it when I say, there’s nothing here for you.” I open my arms wide. “I’m not available in the way you want or need or deserve. We’ve got something be—” I pause, letting out a long breath. “I’m not a typical guy. I’ve seen things a girl as sweet as you can’t even imagine in her worst nightmare. I do only casual. This means, no bed-sharing—ever. This means, nothing but casual sex.”
Lauren is everything I wish I could have but can’t. And I’m not a man who is used to not getting what he wants. I work hard for what I get. Every muscle on my body. Everything I’ve ever accomplished. It’s been hard work and dedication from start to finish. But this? Being with a girl who isn’t just a one-nighter? It’s not possible for me, and the truth is infuriating.
“Slade, calm down. I’m not asking you for anything. You have your own life, all right? I’m just here temporarily. After this trip, we never have to see each other again. You don’t have to be an asshole to me. We can be civil.” Her voice is a whisper, as though she’s begging me to be kinder.
Why does she have to be so nice? So sweet?
Her words are hard, but her heart still opens for me.
“I’ll stop acting like an asshole.”
She exhales.
Before I can think it through, I tell her, “Let’s sit together and watch the sunset. It’s going down soon.”
“You want to sit. With me?” She purses her lips. “The girl you have nothing in common with?”
“Come on. You know that shit wasn’t true.”
She takes a hard swallow. “But you said it.”
“Come on.” A cushioned bench lines the perimeter. “No one here but us.” I gesture to the couch.
She rigidly sits down, raising her legs in front of her before invitingly opening them. She taps the space between her knees. The sun lowers, casting an orange glow over the boat.
Hesitantly, I sit between her legs. I twist my torso to face her. “You’re not going to strangle me, right?”
“I considered it.” She raises her brows at me. “But, no, I won’t.”
She pulls me back by the shoulders, so I’m resting my head in the juncture between her thighs. Part of me wants to jump upward, but her fingers move into my hair, and it feels so damn good.
“You aren’t a materialistic bitch either,” I add. “I know you’re not.”
“Thanks.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. “I know who I am. Now, straighten your head so I can massage your face. Lord knows you need something to calm your domineering ass down.”
She drops her thumbs on the bridge of my nose, pushing down and out over my cheekbones. I let out a sigh.
“Am I allowed to ask you what it’s like in Afghanistan, or are you going to chew my head off?”
I tilt my head up to see her. “Lots of good people. Some bad.”
“On the way to Utah, I ordered a book on my Kindle about Adam Brown. The Navy SEAL. I’ve been reading it.”
I melt from her hands. “Did you now? Adam was a good man.” I close my eyes and try not to smile at the fact that she’s trying to learn more about me. Shaking off my attempt to keep her away, I find myself in a warmth I can’t fight. I don’t deserve it, but fuck if it’s not the best feeling I’ve ever had.
“You knew him?” She sucks in a surprised breath, her fingers pausing.
“Knew of him, yeah. We all do. Total badass.”
Her hands continue to rub up and down my face. “You’re a good man, too, Slade. When you aren’t being a huge asshole, I mean.”
I chuckle. “I’m all right. And I’m sorry, okay? I said fucked up shit that wasn’t true. I just wanted to be firm and make sure we were clear, but it wasn’t necessary. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I should just ask for no bread, so I don’t waste. You’re right about that, and I—”
“Oh no.” I put my hands on her, stilling her words. “You don’t have to finish everything you eat. It’s a weird thing I have after the shit I’ve seen. You don’t have to take it on.”
“No. You’re right. I should ask for less, so I waste less.”
When I let go of her hands, she continues her ministrations. I let her take care of me. I’m not sure why I was being so difficult. Sure, she’s a sweet girl
who deserves more than me. But she isn’t a child who can’t make her own choices either. Best part is that she isn’t planning on staying here; it’s just for a short time. I need to cool off and calm down, stop fighting everything and let it all ride. She knows the score now—of this, I’m absolutely positive. My body sinks between hers, and for the first time in what feels like ages, I feel peace.
Eleven
Lauren
Back at the hotel, we’re all exhausted from fresh air and sun.
Slade and I get off the elevator and turn left while Vincent and Eve go right. I can feel Slade’s steps behind me. It’s as though he’s stalking me like a predator. I stop into the bathroom, locking the door to create some distance. Gripping the side of the sink, I dip my head down.
On the boat, he watched me so closely. His eyes were always trained on some part of my body. He made some horrible accusations, but I believed him when he said that he just wanted a line between us. On the one hand, Slade says these cruel things, but then, on the other hand, his actions say he cares.
He wants me, and I can feel it. I’m not going to lie to myself and say I don’t want him. Because I do. I’ve wanted him from the moment I saw him. And the truth is, I have nothing to lose. Less than two weeks remain before I go back to the real world, back to California. This is just a small break from my life. I was worried that getting involved with him would affect me getting better, post-shooting. But I actually feel okay. In fact, being with him might do me some good. My body is my own. If I want a meaningless fling with Slade, why can’t I have it? He doesn’t want to share a bed? Well, that’s okay with me. We have two beds in this room, and I like mine just fine.
I haven’t been with anyone since Slade at the wedding. I never did the drugs with my friends, but Slade might be the exact trick. He can be the one to calm me down and give me a modicum of happiness before I have to reenter the lion’s den at Crier and go on date after bad date via the five different websites I’m subscribed to, each promising to find my “perfect match.”
I step back outside the bathroom, wanting to make my move. His shirt is off, and he’s in nothing other than board shorts. Rippling abs and that perfect, hard ass. Like an athlete. Can I really do this? Maybe not, but I want to try.
“You all right?” He scratches the back of his neck. His chiseled face is colored with sun. He’s so sexy.
I hesitantly lick my lips. “I was thinking, why don’t we just hook up?” My voice falls out in a rush, as if my mouth knows that, if I don’t get to it quickly, it’ll never happen. “I know you don’t do anything serious. And, right now, that’s the last thing I want in my life. Less than two weeks to go, and I’ll head back home. I think we both want each other. So, why not stop the asshole routine and just give it a—”
In just one step, he presses me into his arms, and his lips fall on mine. The first thing I feel is warmth. It’s consuming.
“Can’t stop this,” he groans, pressing his dick against me. It’s hard and so good.
I open myself, letting him take. He lifts me up as if I weigh nothing, pushing me up against the cream-colored wall.
“Just while you’re here,” he pants between laying heavy kisses down my neck.
“Yes,” comes my breathy reply. “Two weeks.” A shudder moves through me as his hands make their way up my dress.
He pulls back. “Shit, the bathing suit.”
After he lowers me, I undo the bathing suit’s halter top tied behind my neck.
“Keep the dress on. I love it on you.”
He drops to his knees, pulling the suit downward. It’s around my feet in mere seconds. The fabric of my dress rubs against my nakedness, brushing against my hard nipples.
Lifting the dress up around my waist, he sucks and licks around my belly button. I’m whimpering as his big hands dent into my thighs, spanning from the inside out. Grabbing his hair, I pull him closer, wanting and needing more. I ache from the way we left things in the back of his car, but my desire burns me from the inside. It rages like a wildfire.
His hands rove down to grip my ass, and all I can do is pray he’ll touch me exactly where I need. But he doesn’t. Instead, he stands back up, cupping my face in his huge hands.
“Wait. What? What are you doing?” I’m confused and frustrated.
He’d better not tell me he’s stopping or that he doesn’t have a condom.
“Remember back in the truck after The Blue?”
He kisses me again, deeper. Undoes the zipper of my dress. It falls as his tongue plunges into my mouth. I’m completely nude before him.
“Fuck, you tasted so good. I remember how tight you were. You were so close to coming in my mouth. I wanted you to come on my dick though.” He presses a muscled thigh between my legs, pushing slow and deep.
“Oh God,” I gasp as he takes my hands, holding them hostage above my head, so I’m pinned to the wall.
My brain is shocked by his words, but my body has a different reaction. I’m completely soaked, gyrating against his heavily muscled thigh as my wetness drips. I want to reach forward to bring his body to mine. I want more and can’t wait. He doesn’t budge.
“You think I don’t know what you want?” he whispers again into my ear, tongue darting out before his teeth nibble on my lobe. “I know exactly what you need. The question is, are you going to be a good girl and listen to what I say?” He brushes my hair out of my face with his free hand. “Will you listen like a good girl, Lauren?” he repeats.
I want to scream yes, but my mind-mouth connection has been severed. I can’t stop my body from swiveling against him.
“Y-yes,” I manage to stutter out.
His hazel-green eyes hold mine. Scruff lines his face, as though he forgot to shave for a few days. He’s so serious. He slightly shifts his body so I can feel his hardness. It’s huge. I clench my inner muscles, panting for release. He’s an animal right now but in complete control.
“I want you begging for my dick. I want you shaking so hard; you can’t speak. I am going to ruin you,” he growls.
He brings his mouth closer to mine. I snake out my tongue, needing to taste him.
“Oh …”
He’s pure sex. The ache he brings out in me is so acute; I could cry.
His mouth attaches onto my nipple, and he sucks hard. Holy shit! This whole thing with Slade is crazy. I’m vanilla. I wear heels every day and get my hair professionally blow-dried twice a week. I don’t do casual sex with an ex-Navy SEAL. Who am I? I tried to convince myself I didn’t want him. He’s an asshole! But this asshole feels so. Damn. Good. Tremors rack my body. I’d take a lifetime of casual sex with this man, if I could.
In a rapid movement, his lips move to my other nipple. I want to grab his head and force him to move harder and faster, but I’m still completely at his mercy. Moving his lips away, he blows cool air against my hot breasts. My body trembles like it’s forty below.
“How is this possible?” I groan as he licks and sucks my wet nipples again and again, alternating and playing with them in his hot mouth.
I can’t stop moving. Moaning. I don’t remember ever sounding like this before—so wanton. At the wedding, we were in his truck. The party wasn’t close but not far either. He shushed me as I bit through his shirt, praying not to shriek through my orgasms. But, now, we’re in a hotel room. Privacy.
I can only imagine how I look. My hair down around my shoulders. Nipples distended and soaked from his tongue. My lower half undulating against his heavy thigh. My throat already feels raw from my deep, guttural moans. That’s when his hand lowers itself from my breast and goes down and down.
“Oh no. Oh God. Slade.”
“Yeah, baby. Yeah.”
I’m shaking from my toes upward. I want to tell him to wait a minute. As it is, everything feels too good. It’s too much. I’m so close. I bite my lip as his thumb presses directly against my clit, and another two fingers slide straight up inside me, curving. My head bangs against the wall as I co
me so hard that flashes of light dance in front of my eyes. My head drops down, only to see him on his knees with his mouth on my pussy, drinking me in.
Oh my God.
My legs tremble so hard that he has to hold each of my thighs in his hands, so I don’t collapse. I might die.
When I come to, I’m on the bed, too satisfied to even ask how I got here.
“We’re not done,” he says.
“Done? What? Where?” My voice is raspy as I try to get my bearings. I turn to Slade and can’t stop my smile. “I have the hottest man I’ve ever seen next to me right now—whoop!”
He chuckles. “You make me laugh, you know that?”
“Like, ha-ha, we’re laughing together, so funny? Or like, ha-ha your face?”
He claps his hands. “Who are you? I swear, I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Surprise?”
His huge arms pull me into his body when I finally notice he’s still in his shorts.
“I thought you didn’t do the bed.”
“Well, it’s not to sleep.”
I hum, “I’m so tired.”
Lifting my arms up over my head, I stretch like a cat against the soft sheets. He watches my breasts shift with rapt attention.
Grumbling, he nestles into my neck as his hand snakes out to hold mine. For a man who isn’t into cuddling, he sure knows how to tangle himself up.
Wrapping my legs around him like an octopus, I feel free to enjoy this time without worry and speak my mind without anxiety that I’ll screw something up.
Last year, I dated this doctor, Jordan. We had been set up by mutual friends, and I really believed we could fall in love. When we had sex, it was terrible. But I couldn’t be vocal because, if I were, he might get offended, and the relationship would be ruined. I figured, stay quiet now, and once we were married, I’d finally be clear about what I wanted. But this isn’t the case with Slade, whom I have no future with. If he pisses me off, I shouldn’t have to bite my tongue.