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by Dr. Rebecca Sharp


  “I can’t, Zach. I can’t do us.” My lip quivered. “Maybe they’re all right. Maybe I’m not capable of a relationship.” A pitiful laugh escaped me. “At this point, I’m not even capable of a fake one apparently. I thought after all this time I could, but there is no faking it for me. You’re the song that’s inside of my soul. And I’ve tried, Zach, I’ve tried to re-write it over and over again. But what I feel for you doesn’t change; the notes are notched into my bones.”

  I felt his body tense against me, but the water was a safe space. It would wash all my star-crossed heartache away.

  “Blake…”

  I quickly pressed on before he—or the more circumspect side of me—had me swallowing my words once again.

  “This was a mistake,” I continued. “But I didn’t know. I didn’t know what you were.”

  “And what’s that?”

  I blinked twice as though it should have been obvious. “The piece that makes me… me. I think that… I’m only me when I’m with you.” I swallowed. “But I’m not really with you. Which means that I can never really be me. And that is why I can’t do this.” My words picked up steam—or maybe it was only the emotions behind them. “With you, I forget about the cameras. I forget that this is all part of an act. I forget that I’m supposed to be a different person just because they see me. I forget because I want to be with you—I want you to be mine.” I paused to swallow over the lump in my throat, hoping that the water splashed on my face camouflaged the tears. “But then you strike a chord that stops everything and reminds me that none of this is real—just like the rest of my glamorous life.”

  “Blake…” I could hear the weight in his voice, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer. He could pretend like there was nothing to talk about between us, but I couldn’t.

  I wouldn’t.

  “N-no,” I insisted, whipping my head side to side. “I thought I’d be ok with it, but I’d rather not have you at all, than have this where I question everything I’ve ever felt about you. I’d rather have nothing, Zach, than feel like I’m losing everything.”

  It came out in a rush. Was it a mistake that I said all that? Probably. Because I knew that this tie between us was delicate. But this was what was in my head. And in my heart.

  “Blake, stop,” he gritted out through clenched teeth and I could practically hear another reprimand coming.

  “No. We should go.” I started to move, frantic to get away from my downfall. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine. We should go.”

  Denial. I could live in denial for a few more weeks after I cried out the rest of my heart and soul tonight.

  “We’re not going anywhere,” he said harshly, yanking me hard against his chest, water splashing between us as my hips jerked into his.

  He was hard. I could feel his length between us. I’d felt it from the moment he picked me up earlier. But I’d learned to stop believing that it was going to change anything between us.

  Some things run deeper than desire.

  “Why?” I demanded, unable to stifle a sob. “So you can tell me to suck it up? To ‘stop whining, Baby Blake’? Or maybe just to remind me that wanting me is just for show—or better yet that it’s a mistake? I-I can’t hear it again. I can’t—”

  Hard, unyielding lips crashed down on mine, halting my hysterics. One arm locked around my waist, the other speared through my hair, angling my head so his tongue could claim every inch of my mouth and force those words right back down my throat.

  Hot. Possessive. Punishing.

  I hated how nothing about his desire felt faked. I loved how nothing about his desire felt faked.

  Our mouths moved together like a duet that only we knew how to sing. High and low. Fast, then slow. The rest of the world drained into black and white, but this… us… we were singing in color.

  His arms pulled me tighter against him, barely leaving room for any water to fill between us. And still, I wanted to be closer. I wanted to mold into him… seep into his pores… so that it would be impossible for him to let me go—or push me away. My tongue shoved against his, begging for more—pleading for his marks. And he gave them to me. Nipping, sucking, stroking, he covered the entire scale of sins that only he could inflict on my mouth.

  My body burned. I waited for the water that lapped against us to start hissing and turn into smoke at any moment. The ocean was becoming our own personal hot tub, heated by our desire that seeped into it.

  Why was I not stopping this? I know I should except it’s all I’ve ever wanted.

  I liked (too much) the way he was everything I ever wanted.

  I knew I should stop it. I was here because I wanted to stop it. But I couldn’t. It’s only going to feel good tonight and then the heartache hangover in the morning is going to break me. He’ll break my heart and I’ll only have myself to blame. I’ve seen this story play out before because it’s my story. This is my heartbreak song on repeat and yet for some reason, every time the damn thing comes on, I sing along like this time it’s going to change its tune.

  His hips began to rock into mine. His erection rubbed against my sex in slow motion as the water displaced. I was wet. Everything. Everywhere. Because of him.

  “Blake,” he said with a deep voice, tugging my lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it like I was his favorite candy. “I want you. Fuck, I’ve always wanted you.”

  I shook my head, unwilling to believe it, but he covered my lips again, not giving me any other choice.

  “Yes. You.” He forced my gaze to his and I lost myself in those starry eyes that were sparkling up my darkest night. “You aren’t a mistake. You are perfect, Blakebaby. And I’ve wanted you for as long as I’ve denied it.”

  Goosebumps rained down over my skin, his words igniting heat low in my stomach. My heart tripped and sputtered as it tried to catch up with what he said. Was I dreaming?

  I should push him away. I should walk—run—away.

  But he was quicksand.

  “None of this is fake, right here.” His hand slid down, fingers gripping my chin firmly. “Nothing between us has ever been fake.” He gently kissed my lips. “Hidden.” Kiss. “Denied.” Kiss. “Avoided.” Harder kiss. “But the feelings behind it all haven’t changed—they’ve always been real.”

  His thumb rubbed over my lip that dropped open, wanting to believe what I was hearing.

  “W-what are you saying?” I whispered like he’d drugged me with the truth. “Why are you saying it?”

  “I tried. I swear I tried for your sake. And for Ash’s.” A tortured strain entered his voice. “I tried to stay away. I tried to keep my promise. But I want you. And I knew from the first goddamn note we played that I’d be breaking all my rules to be with you.” Was I dreaming? “I can’t… I won’t… continue to watch the light in your eyes when you’re with me fade as soon as you think it’s just one more performance—that I don’t walk away from you each and every goddamn time hating myself.”

  His harsh laugh rumbled against me. “Like I haven’t needed to jack off like a fucking teenager every night since Miami because I want you so badly that I can taste that sweet pussy of yours on my tongue.” His fingers flexed into me.

  I bit my lip as a small whimper escaped my mouth, my hips subconsciously rocking against his hard length.

  “Like I haven’t continued fighting this battle even though the war was already won.”

  “Then why would you say those things?” I asked hoarsely, crippling fear of the past repeating itself cluttering my desire. “Why would you make me believe you didn’t?”

  His hand cupped the side of cheek. “For all the wrong fucking reasons, Blakebaby.”

  I shivered again at the nickname that strummed on a string directly attached to my heart.

  “Against the law. Against the bro code. Against my promise to your brother,” he continued, and I watched his face darken, plagued by the thoughts that whispered betrayal.

  “Zach—”

  He p
ressed a hard kiss to my lips. “No, Blay. You aren’t alone. I thought if I denied it for long enough, it would become true. But all it’s done is become torture. And I won’t do it anymore.” His breath caressed my cheek. “I’m here… I’m here, baby, and I can’t do this anymore either. I won’t keep lying that every touch—every word—is feigned when the truth is that every piece of it is coming from a part of my heart that I’ve tried to stop from beating. But I can’t, Blay. I can’t because you are the beat in my heart.”

  I felt every word and every inch of him as it seeped into me. Like the wet clothes clinging desperately to my skin, I clung to him. My teeth sank into my lip to hold my breath, unwilling to let this moment go.

  This was the moment I’d been waiting for my whole life—the moment when the god finally seduced me. And I couldn’t decide if it was really a choice—this getting swept away?

  “What are we doing?” I finally whispered. My only motivation for breaking the magic of being swallowed up by star-reflecting waves was to go wherever he would take me.

  “I’m going to do what I should have done a long time ago.”

  His stare was hungry and determined and a thrill ran through my body, knowing that this was a look I’d never seen before except in my dreams.

  “And what’s that?” I don’t know why I asked. He was so close and all I wanted was to taste his mouth again.

  “Make this real. Make us real… Make you mine.” He leaned in and brushed his lips to mine, his breath hot against my skin.

  Thank goodness for strong water and strong arms to keep me afloat.

  “And you, Baby Blake,” he continued with a slight grin, “are going to let me.”

  “Oh, I am?” I asked, wishing it came out feistier and less breathless—but beggars can’t be choosers. “And why would I do that?”

  “Because now that I have you, I won’t let you go,” he said with a soft, bewildered possessiveness that dug right into the deepest, most vulnerable part of me that had loved him since I knew what love was. Whatever he meant, whatever this was, it was sincere.

  Any other thoughts I had were drowned out by the desire screaming through my veins. My world had begun to feel like a black and white movie until now when he kissed me and held me close; it had been monochromatic misery until he painted me golden.

  Heaven help me now.

  I BIT INTO MY CHEEK, trying to stop myself from smiling at the way she fidgeted in the passenger seat as I drove us back to the hotel. She thought there was still time for me to change my mind; it was written all over her face. The thing was, I’d been going in the wrong direction for nine fucking years. Changing my mind would be like throwing myself back into oncoming traffic.

  If I could even make it that far.

  All of this silence and patience… desire and anticipation… My body was shaking, trying to hold back from her.

  Her squirming was only part of the reason my eyes had trouble staying focused on the road. Her fancy shirt was molded to her breasts and her nipples were hard and poking against the wet fabric. I thought of Miami and how I was a fucking idiot for waiting so long to taste them. Her dark jeans were tight when she’d been on stage, now they looked like they were spray-painted on and fuck if my dick didn’t jump at the thought of peeling them off.

  I shifted in my seat to adjust my obnoxious fucking erection, my jeans draining more water into the seat with the movement. Good thing this was a rental.

  Throwing the car in park in front of the hotel, I reached behind her for my jacket that I’d tossed in the backseat earlier and held it in front of her.

  “I’ll ruin it,” she said, looking from the navy sport coat back to me with concern.

  “Blay,” I said tightly. “Your nipples are about to cut right through your shirt and while I’m dying over here, painfully enjoying the sight for the entire damn drive, there is no way in hell I’m letting anyone else—or any cameras—see what’s mine.”

  Fuck if I haven’t wanted to call her that since I was too young to know everything that it could mean.

  A second later the jacket was on and she was tucked underneath my arm as we quickly navigated the lobby, catching only a few curious stares but no cameras.

  The doors didn’t shut fast enough before I had her up against the back wall of the elevator, my lips crushed to hers, searching for the warm sweetness that I was ravenous for. She whimpered—a sound that did to my dick what the bell did for Pavlov’s dogs. I shifted against her, needing more contact, and rode my knee up between her legs. Her needy pussy immediately started grinding against me.

  The elevator music that hummed in the background was just as ridiculous a soundtrack to the demanding kiss and unabashed dry-humping as Christmas carols playing during a porno.

  Ding. Time’s up.

  Grabbing her hand, I pulled her towards my room enjoying the rosy tint to her cheeks and the deep blue desire crashing in her eyes.

  2202.

  2204.

  2208. Finally.

  Kicking the door shut behind us, I hauled her back into my arms. Desperate. After so long. Finally getting everything I wanted.

  Wrapping my hand around her neck, I pulled her lips just to mine. I wanted her. All of her. Every moan. Every touch. Every cry. Every shade of red she turned when she came. Screw the past and screw Ash. Even if this ruined our friendship—even if this ruined me—I needed to be with her. Inside of her. I needed to claim every last inch of Blake Tyler for myself.

  “Are you sure?” I growled into her mouth, our heavy breaths mingling in the fraction of a space between us.

  “I feel like I should be asking you that,” she murmured. “I’ve been ready for nine years.”

  I bit her lip for reminding me just what a fucking moron I was and then crushed my lips over hers. My hand pulled her tighter against my mouth, allowing my tongue deeper inside her sweet warmth to feel every inch. Her hips rocked against mine, silent praise and pleas for giving her what she needed as I licked and stroked into her.

  “Jesus, Blay, I want you so bad,” I panted, pulling back from her.

  I watched the bone-chilling fear flash over her features and I knew she thought this was going to be a repeat of the other night.

  “If I don’t make an attempt now to get us towards the bed, I’m going to end up fucking you against the door,” I groaned, taking her hand as the color returned to her cheeks in full force.

  “And if I said I wasn’t opposed to that?” she murmured as I led her through the spacious, elegantly furnished suite that was reserved for me.

  When I’d checked in yesterday, it had just been another fancy-ass hotel room. Tonight, I was glad that it was the nicest fucking hotel room I’d even seen because I’d been waiting a decade for this moment—and she had, too; everything should be perfect.

  Opening one of the doors that partitioned the bedroom from the living space, I pulled her ahead of me, following behind as our shoes squished on the carpet.

  “I’d tell you that I am.” I stopped her in front of the bed, turning her to face me. “There’s no way that after waiting this long I’m not going to properly savor every forbidden inch of you in a bed.”

  My hand dropped hers to unbutton my shirt that clung to my chest. The hunger in her eyes as I pulled the damp fabric off of me made it hard for me to force myself into going slow.

  With a wet plop, my shirt dropped to the floor and a second later, Blake closed the distance I’d created, her hands planting firmly on my chest. Clenching my teeth, I tried to restrain myself as her fingers grazed over my skin, tracing along my collarbone, down over my chest, along the flexed ridges of my abs. Her touch drove me insane. I handcuffed her wrists with my fingers before they went any further.

  “My turn.”

  I grabbed the bottom of her shirt and, like I was unwrapping the only Christmas gift I’d ever wanted, peeled it up and over her head and let it fall next to mine. My teeth ground together, seeing her small tits that were pushed up and together b
y the plain black bra she was wearing. They were perfect. I reached behind her, tracing up her spine and not missing the way it made her chest jump as her breath caught in her throat. When the clasp released, I tugged the straps from her shoulders and let the last barrier fall away.

  She swayed towards me, craving my touch. And I wanted to touch. Hell, I wanted to touch and taste and fuck the perky pink tits that taunted me. But first, I just wanted to savor this moment of being mesmerized.

  “I’ve imagined your breasts so many ways, Blay. So many ways… So many times…” I broke off, my voice choked. “I always knew they’d be beautiful. But I had no idea.”

  In a trance, my hand raised to grab one rosy nipple between my fingers and tugged. Her whole body shook as pleasure rippled through it and, gripping her upper arms, I pushed her back until her knees hit the bed, forcing her to sit.

  Her legs spread immediately as I knelt in front of her.

  This was what I’d always wanted but never could take.

  My hands slid to her waist, holding her perfectly still so I could lean forward and flick one nipple with my tongue. Her gasp was like music to my ears—the beginning of a song that I was going to play over and over again.

  Cupping the soft weight toward my mouth with one hand, the other slid around to support her back. With the growl of a man who’d been starved for almost a fucking decade, my lips closed over the taut peak.

  Silken and sweet. Jesus, she tasted like everything I could ever want.

  Slow, I instructed myself as I let my tongue swirl over and around her flesh, trying to focus on her little mewls of pleasure and not on how my dick was about to explode in my pants.

  I had control—but there wasn’t much of it left.

  I sucked hard on her tit and she cried out, her hands digging into my scalp to pull my mouth tighter to her. I took my time turning every inch of that breast pink before turning my attentions to the next. By the time I was done—or I was forced to be done because my cock was so swollen in my wet jeans that circulation was being lost—she was gasping my name; if I didn’t stop now, she’d orgasm without me. Without me inside her.

 

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