by Lara Swann
“Come for me, damn it.” I mutter, demanding and relentless as she writhes against me.
And, somehow, that’s what does it.
I hear her fly over that edge, screaming my name as her pussy clenches tight around me. That’s all I need to let go, to loosen the tight control I’ve been holding onto for what feels like far too long.
The stress and worry and fear of the day disappear into one endless explosion, as I bury my cock deep inside her and let it all go. Pleasure washes through me, relief and release and a bone-deep contentment as every part of me gives way to that intense wave of lust.
My body weakens a moment later, and I feel my limbs loosen as I try not to collapse against her. I let myself fall to the side, our bodies breaking apart again, and try to catch my breath.
“Fucking hell.”
It takes me a moment to realize that didn’t come from me, and then I glance to the side, blearily, at Cassie beside me.
The look of pure blissed-out satisfaction on her face gives me a buzz I’ve never felt before, and I reach over to take my hand in hers. Her head rolls over to look at me, and she gives me a loose grin, squeezing my hand.
“I…needed that.” I say, my voice still rough and deep.
She grunts in agreement, and then I can’t help it. Even spent and exhausted, my mind still drifting, I roll towards her again. Take her head in my hand, and press my lips against hers.
She sighs softly into me, and then her body is tangled with mine again. Not doing anything. Not quite yet. But moving just a little, just a hint of how much more she could want.
To my surprise, my cock gives a half-hearted twitch of interest too, and I take a moment, just breathing her in.
My recovery time is not usually nearly that quick. I kiss her again, and when she moans at the end of it, I give her a slow smile.
“That was…hard and fast.” I murmur. “How about…this time…we take it slow?”
She moans again, pressing into me and nuzzling against my neck as she nods her agreement.
This time my cock’s response lasts just a little bit longer, and I sigh in appreciation as we start kissing.
Long, and slow, and tender. Our bodies come together, touching gently and unable to help ourselves, even while we’re still recovering. I smile again, warmth spreading through me.
Maybe I will get that ‘unable-to-stop, fucking-for-hours’ thing after all.
Chapter Thirteen
Cassie
I wake up the next morning stiff, aching and sore as fuck.
In all the best ways.
I stretch out slowly, savoring the feel of it as my body reminds me of all the sensuous pleasure of…probably only a few hours ago.
The sun is creeping in under the blinds, and I’ve no idea what time it is, but I can’t say I even feel tired.
Just…sated.
Warm and satisfied.
Josh stirs beside me, and I slip out of bed just a little reluctantly - if I let myself roll into his arms again, there’s a risk we’ll be really late to breakfast this morning.
I moan a little at the way my pussy tightens and clenches as I get up, my thighs aching as I walk towards the bathroom.
Then I catch sight of myself in the full-length mirror and have to stop entirely.
I run my hands down my smooth, sensitized body, my eyes dancing at the thoroughly over-sexed look I’ve got this morning - my eyes dilated and hot, my hair and makeup mussed, and the sensuous curve to my lips that I didn’t even realize I had.
Not to mention the marks.
Oh my god.
I lift a hand to the love bite on my neck, thick and purpling beautifully…then gently stroke over the faint fingerprint-sized bruises on my tender, aching breasts…skimming the almost identical pattern on my hips…and my thighs.
Wow.
We were rough last night.
Another thrill runs through me, straight to my thoroughly used and stretched center, and somehow I find myself getting wet. Again.
That was how this whole thing started. Well, one of the reasons.
Josh steps up behind me, making me jump as he wraps his arms around me and meets my eyes in the mirror, a similar lascivious smile on his face.
I lean back into him with a soft sigh, enjoying the warmth of his body - until it stiffens against me.
“Fuck.” Josh stares at me in the mirror. “Did I do that? Shit, I’m sorry Caz…”
I laugh and shake my head, turning in his arms to wrap my hands around his neck.
“Don’t be. It’s awesome.” I touch the love bite on my neck and grin. “I love next-day reminders.”
He gives me a skeptical look for just a moment, and then looks down at my body again, his hand following mine to touch every mark he’s left. Heat flickers in his eyes and then he’s kissing me again - warm and sweet and with both of us laughing, just a little.
“I forgot about that.” He says, eyes sparkling. “All those times you’ve tried to show off the evidence of your conquests.”
“Only because you never believed they’d actually happened.” I point out, finally twisting out of his arms and heading into the bathroom.
I hope there will still be something left by the time we get down to breakfast.
“I just never saw where you found the time.” He says lightly, following me.
I turn in the doorway, giving him a wide smile. “You always make time for the really important things in life, Josh.”
And then I shut the door, very deliberately.
“Hey!” He objects, calling through it. “You’re walking around naked, I’ve spent hours feeling every part of you and now you decide to be modest, Caz?” He calls from behind the door.
“I just know what will happen if I get into this shower where you can see me.” I retort.
He pauses. Then…
“Oh fucking hell. And you just had to leave me with that thought, hey?” I hear him walk back towards the bedroom, and his voice becomes too muffled to make out.
I grin to myself, and jump into the shower, forcing myself to make quick work of it instead of lingering and enjoying myself the way I want to. Or changing my mind and inviting Josh to join me.
I catch myself humming as I do, and surprise myself with how much I’m enjoying this.
The banter between us feels just the same as it always has. We’ve always had this irreverent attitude towards talking about sex. It’s just that this time…the sex we’re talking about is with each other.
Which feels a little weird, but…not in a bad way. Not in a bad way at all.
I’m still not sure what to make of it, or exactly what we’re doing, but I think Josh has the right idea - we’re never going to work out just what is going on between us until we’re back home. Away from my family.
And…finished with this fake relationship.
I frown a little at that, still puzzling over my reaction as I get out of the shower and leave the bathroom for Josh.
I call out a short reminder to be quick, he makes some not-so-subtle comment about what I think he might be doing in there, and I root around for fresh clothes with a smile playing at my lips.
This close to the end of the trip, it’s getting harder to find them, but I manage to be dressed before Josh comes out - much to his disappointment, from the look he gives me.
I laugh, and he walks over to me anyway, putting his arms around my waist and pulling me closer.
“You’re still wet.” I wrinkle my nose at him.
“I was hoping you would be.” He gives me an arch look, and I hit his chest lightly, before my hand comes up to tousle in his wet hair.
Fuck, he looks gorgeous like this.
“You really need to stop saying things like that.” I say. “We have to stop this - at least out there.”
I pull away from him to make my point, and he slaps me on the ass. I turn to glare at him, but he’s already looking away with mock innocence, and I just laugh.
I haven’t felt t
his easy and relaxed with any of the guys I’ve slept with, for longer than I can remember.
But then this isn’t just a guy I’ve slept with. This is Josh.
Still feels weird.
“I mean it, you know.” I say, leaning against the wall and watching as he starts getting dressed. “We’re leaving tomorrow - we should be at each others’ throats by now, make it obvious what’s coming. Especially after yesterday - we can’t exactly leave here with them still thinking we’re together.”
Can’t we?
I dismiss that errant thought, and Josh stills as he finishes shrugging on his t-shirt, giving me a look that I almost think says exactly the same thing.
I shrug it off. That was never any part of the plan.
“We can do that.” He says, and that momentary impression disappears as he walks over to me with a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine. I’ve given them plenty of reasons to be glad when we split up.”
He kisses me, teasing my lips with his as he starts listing them.
“No children…no job…rude…and arrogant…dismissive…”
That shouldn’t be sexy. It really shouldn’t be.
But his touch affects me quicker than I can believe, and I find myself getting turned on just by that casual intimacy. The easy way he describes all the ways they’ll be glad he’s gone.
I kiss him back, deepening it for one brief moment, before stepping away and trying to shake off the haze of lust.
“Josh…” I complain, even though I don’t exactly want him to stop.
For once, he listens, holding up his hands and backing away.
“Okay, okay.” He grins at me. “We’ll dial up the tension. I told you, babe, I’m a good actor - you’ll probably actually be as pissed off with me as they are, by the end.”
“Okay that I believe - wouldn’t be hard.” I laugh, giving him a sweet smile as he scowls at me. “Though…it is meant to be you doing the breaking up. What should I be doing to provoke that?”
He returns my sweet smile with a cocky one of his own, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before heading for the door.
“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about that, Caz.” He says over his shoulder, laughing. “You infuriate me enough without even trying - I’m sure I can think of a dozen reasons I might call it quits.”
That makes me pause for a moment. It’s pretty standard banter between us, but…
…really?
“C’mon, are we making breakfast or not?” He turns around, eyebrow raised, and I start walking again.
I can’t quite shrug off the feeling though. It seems stupid, but now I’m wondering whether he actually meant that.
Are there dozens of reasons he wouldn’t want to be with me?
Not that I’ve ever cared about that. I haven’t even thought about it before. And it’s not like it matters now, either - this isn’t a real thing.
It could even be helpful, as he said.
But…it bothers me anyway.
And I can’t even say why.
Josh glances over at me in question, but I just shrug.
I don’t understand it myself right now, so I’m not going to try and explain it to him.
I’m probably just confused about this strange mix of real and pretend, and all the blurred lines we’re playing with.
The sooner this whole thing ends, the better.
Except for some reason, I don’t feel entirely comfortable about that either.
Irritated with myself, I try to convince myself that now isn’t the time to be trying to work any of that out - and jump when Josh takes my hand and I realize we’re approaching the dining room.
“To battle, then?” He tilts his head at me, giving me an ironic smile and squeezing my hand.
It has the intended effect.
I laugh, and nod, grateful again for his presence and ability to bring me out of my head.
Then he drops my hand to open the door, and I’m even more appreciative of the last-minute show of support as I realize that it’s probably the last time I’m going to get it today, if we want this to work.
That gives me a momentary pang of disappointment, but it’s what I wanted - and I feel a small warmth at the idea that we’re in this together.
To battle, indeed.
It’s a good thing too, since the moment I walk into the room, it feels like everyone turns to look at me - again. I’m starting to feel like I’m the main source of gossip for the whole family. Which is probably true.
“Ohh…my…” My Mom’s murmur confuses me, followed by a hiss. “Cassie!”
John coughs and looks away, and no one quite meets my eyes. It’s not until Beth glares at me that I work it out.
“Fuck, Cassie, look at you. We heard you all night, too - couldn’t you have had some damn consideration?!”
Oh yes. Of course.
I almost laugh out loud as I reach up to my neck - where everyone is trying not to look.
Then I remember I’m not supposed to be happy right now, and cut off the urge. But their sudden prudishness amuses me, and I can’t help the little thrill that runs through me at the thought of what we got up to last night.
Josh saves me from having to answer, shrugging offhand and walking away from me towards the food.
“Well, you know what they say about the angry, make-up kind of sex.” He shoots a narrow glare my way and then mutters under his breath. “Not that the make-up part really worked.”
I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing again, and try to wrestle myself under control.
For all that I complain about him not taking this seriously enough, he doesn’t actually need the strategy discussions I keep starting. I’m the one who might be at risk of screwing it up. Josh…he’s a fucking master at playing this game.
I use the cover of finding food to get my head straight again, curbing my amusement at Josh’s sudden shift in attitude, and then we take dialing up the tension to heart.
I watch as Josh makes rude comments, practically takes food off other peoples’ plates, not-so-subtly insults Beth’s dress and my mother’s hosting skills, and complains about me all through breakfast.
Towards the end, Maria comes in with Ellie and Lucas, then hands them over to John as she goes straight up to thank Josh for what he did yesterday. And the guy who I’d watched dive in after Lucas, as panic-driven as all of us, who spent hours comforting me despite his own fear…the one who didn’t even stick around for my family to thank…he just looks up at Maria and frowns.
Dumb boy…totally irresponsible to let him out on the water in the first place…
I don’t catch everything he says, but it’s enough to make me wince, wishing he hadn’t gone there.
I know what he’s doing, and Maria is a strong woman - the kind of mother I’d hope to be someday - but anyone would be finding it hard to take the guilt of what almost happened yesterday.
She goes stony, and I see John a few seats away do the same, glaring at Josh’s back. To her credit, she doesn’t even try to defend herself, simply repeating her thanks and walking stiffly towards her husband.
Okay, maybe Josh was right. Maybe saving Lucas isn’t enough for them to forgive him anything.
Josh goes back to eating as if nothing happened at all, and I try to ignore the sudden silence around us.
“Okaay, well, everyone!” My Mom stands up to say something, and I’ve no idea whether that’s been timed deliberately or not, but for once I’m actually glad for her largely-unnecessary morning announcements - if only to break the uneasy stillness. “It’s so sad that today is our last full day here, but it’s been lovely to see you all together again, and for us to celebrate Beth’s engagement. And we thought, what could be better for our last day than one of my favorite family traditions…a soccer game! So, let’s enjoy the day, but please everyone meet out back after lunch, and we’ll see who the winning team is this time!”
“Traditional family soccer game?” I mutter to Mark next to me. “
I swear we’ve played that, like…twice…”
He laughs, trying to cover it with his hand, and rolls his eyes at me. “You know what Mom’s like with family traditions.”
I grin back, appreciating the first pleasant interaction I’ve had this morning.
She does seem to like inventing them, as though she feels we ought to have all these things we do together every vacation.
That seems to be a signal for everyone to disperse, though, and it’s not until I get outside that I realize how glad I am to get away from the tense atmosphere that’s built up in the dining room. Looking around, I’m pretty sure everyone else probably feels exactly the same way - which I guess Josh intended. He’s always been able to create whatever mood he wants.
And it makes me wonder, just a little bit…if he’s so good at faking this…how much of anything he does is real?
I push that thought away as I head towards the pool - the same place most of us seem to be going. It might not be mandated family fun time at the moment, but I guess we all want to make the most of our last day here.
Josh falls into step beside me, and I look up in surprise.
“Want to make peace for the morning?” He suggests, the amusement lacing his tone totally at odds with the cold look on his face. “Enjoy our last few hours by the pool without fighting?”
I glance around, but no one’s close enough to hear us, and try to keep my expression as controlled as his, even as I want to laugh.
“Sure.” I say quietly, preferring that idea anyway. “We can always lounge at opposite ends, not talking.”
“Perfect. I don’t want you interrupting the best part of this play anyway.” He says lightly, and I glance down at Hamlet in his hand.
“Haven’t you read that ninety-bazillion times already?” I ask.
“So? You know I really think it’s his best work, Caz. It’s got just the right mix of—”
“Okay, okay. Anyway, peace treaty agreed.” I hold up my hands. “Enjoy your book.”
It amuses me that he never seems to realize that I’ve already heard everything he’s about to say. Dozens of times. I could probably start quoting his argument to him at this point.