by Kendall Ryan
“It was fun,” I say, half lying. “Want me to get the fire going?”
“Such a gentleman,” Meredith purrs.
The resort employees have already stocked the wood and kindling. I crouch over the pit and begin building the foundation for our fire.
“Where is Natalie?”
I regret the question immediately as both of their faces fall. I can’t help but wear my heart on my sleeve, I guess.
“I don’t know,” Meredith says, leaning back in her chair with a luxurious stretch. “Probably with Jack, right?”
“Oh! Are they together?” Grace asks. I can tell that by together she doesn’t just mean by proximity.
“Ask Cam,” Meredith says, turning the question over to me. I don’t like the way she looks at me, egging me on.
“They definitely aren’t,” I say, but these two women and their questions have me feeling ridiculously uncomfortable. In college, they didn’t speak to me at all unless Jack was by my side. I guess me spending ten hours at the gym every week has changed their perspective. That, or the certificate from med school that places the letters MD behind my name might have a thing or two to do with their attention. Of course, none of that would matter to them if they had any idea how emotionally unavailable I actually am.
“You never know,” Meredith says, poking Grace in the side, and she yelps. “Oh my God, stop, you know I’m ticklish,” Grace cries. More shoving and groping commences. The squealing is unbearable, like poking sharp needles into my already aching head.
I’m glad I have a task so I can reasonably ignore these women. Were they always this annoying back in college? I guess Natalie had an obvious point every time she avoided hanging out with them. Speaking of which . . . Where is Natalie?
Is she with Jack? In one of their hotel rooms? The thought of that scenario makes my mind wander in all sorts of improbable directions. I’ve never thought about it before. Is it possible that they could ever have feelings for each other? The idea seems absurd to me, but a month ago I would have thought my having feelings for Natalie would be preposterous.
My stomach is twisting in knots. I grip the kindling with my hands, tossing it on top of the pile of firewood. Goddamn, I need to get over this woman before just the mention of her name destroys me.
“Hey!”
Speak of the devil. I can’t help but feel relieved when I turn around to see Natalie, without Jack. She has a tote bag slung over her shoulder and wears a droopy knit sweater with yoga pants and fuzzy boots. The sight of Natalie in her comfy clothes sends a rush of emotion through me. Those are the clothes she wears when it’s just her and me, hanging out on her couch, watching bad movies. There’s nothing special about those clothes, but that’s exactly what makes them special. Now everyone is going to see Natalie as herself, perfect and unassumingly beautiful. I swallow the sour taste in my mouth before I can admit to myself how jealous I am.
“You look cute,” Meredith says.
“Thanks.” Natalie laughs, pulling at her sweater. “It’s what I brought to sleep in.”
“Come sit!” Grace says, patting the chair next to her. That’s my cue to take off.
“I’m going to grab some lighter fluid from the deck,” I say, breezing past Natalie.
“Wait up!” She follows right behind, but I don’t let myself slow down. When we’re a few paces away from the others, I feel her hand wrap around my wrist. My heart throbs uncomfortably.
“I have something for you,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. I don’t want to look at her, but I have to.
Goddammit.
Her eyes are mesmerizing in this early evening light. They sparkle more than the lake, a far inferior sight in comparison. Her cheeks are still rosy, I assume from the wine tour of this afternoon. I wonder if her lips taste like merlot. Before I can dip down for a taste, her gaze drops to her tote bag.
“I’ve been waiting all day to give this to you. I couldn’t find the right moment, but what the hell, right?”
From the depths of her bag, Natalie pulls out a long knitted scarf. The colors are dark green and blue, reminiscent of the colors of the lake and the trees surrounding it. I know without her having to say it that she made it herself.
She reaches up and wraps the scarf around my neck. “Happy Christmas,” she whispers.
I smirk. “Christmas isn’t for almost two months.”
“I got too excited.” She chuckles.
I can’t help but smile. The scarf feels gloriously soft against my neck. I can already feel it retaining my heat on this chilly night.
Her hands hold the ends of the scarf against my chest, and she smiles up at me. Has she ever been more beautiful?
“Thank you,” I murmur, my eyes locked onto her lips.
“You are so welcome,” she whispers. Is that a blush on her cheeks, or is it just my imagination working overtime? I must be silent for too long because Natalie speaks again.
“Where’s that lighter fluid?”
“Who knows. I just needed a break from the gossip girls.”
“Oh, please! You didn’t have to spend all afternoon with them.”
“How was that?” I’ll keep asking Natalie questions all night if it will keep her hands on my chest like this.
“You know . . . really not my thing.” She rolls her eyes. “How was golf?”
“Golf.” I shrug, and she laughs.
“At least there’s a hot tub,” she says with a smirk.
“At least.”
“Hey!” We both turn abruptly, and Natalie removes her hands from my chest. Tyron and Jessie are jogging up the hill to us from the lakeside, smiling wide.
“He fucking proposed!” Jessie screams, tackling Natalie in a bear hug.
“Congratulations!”
“Finally,” I say, reaching out to shake Tyron’s hand. He grins, grasping my hand firmly.
“Had to be right, my brother. Had to be right.”
I can relate with that.
Natalie’s eyes sparkle as she inspects Jessie’s ring. “My God, Tyron, this is beautiful!”
“Isn’t it?” Jessie squeals, wiping fresh tears from her eyes.
“Let’s go show everyone else,” Natalie says, squeezing Jessie’s hand.
“What’s the commotion?”
Jack hops down from the deck with Max close behind. The whole brigade is here. My headache couldn’t be worse. Now isn’t the time for personal insecurities and desires to get the better of me. Now is the time to celebrate two friends in love.
Must be nice.
• • •
After we’re suitably warmed from the beer and wine, we abandon the bonfire for the hot tub. I’ve retreated to my room to put on my swim trunks. Apparently, I’m faster than everyone else, because I’m the first one back at the hot tub.
Or not.
Through the steam tendrils rising from the bubbling water, I see that Natalie is already in the tub, her head leaning lazily back on the cobblestone edge. Her breasts peek alluringly out of the water, small circles of soft pale flesh. A single line of sweat runs down her neck, diving into the crevice of her pale lavender bikini top.
She must hear me approaching because she opens her eyes. Her face is flushed, like she’s just had the most exquisite fuck of her life.
“This is incredible,” she murmurs, her voice pure sex.
Jesus. Just the sound of her voice makes my cock perk up in interest. I need to get in the water fast before Natalie can see how tented my trunks are.
I slide into the hot tub, the warm water rushing up around me. The bubbles tickle my balls, and I grit my teeth. I need no more stimulation down there, as it is.
Jesus, Cam. Keep it together.
“Are you okay?” Natalie asks, leaning toward me. Her bathing suit dips low. She isn’t even aware that one of her breasts is threatening to spill out. She’s more concerned about me. I don’t know if I’m more attracted to her body or her personality right now. My dick is hard as a ro
ck under the bubbling water.
“Oh, fuck yes!” Jack calls, grinning as he whips off his T-shirt.
Before I can answer Natalie, Jack hops into the water with us. I’m grateful for the waves he causes, further obscuring my erect cock. I’ve been so preoccupied with Natalie, I didn’t even hear him or the others approach. They all stumble in, fairly tipsy. Everyone groans in delight at the sensation of the water bubbling around their arms and legs.
The conversation naturally centers around Tyron and Jessie’s wedding plans, but I can’t keep track of who is talking or what is being said. All I can do is try not to be too bothered by the sight in front of me.
Jack sits flush against Natalie. Her head is propped comfortably against his shoulder, her breast grazing his arm. They look so comfortable like that, a man and woman completely at ease with each other.
God, I’m so pathetic. Just the sight of them being cozy has my heart sinking and my stomach cramping with so many mixed emotions.
I can’t fucking do this.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Meredith asks, grabbing my arm as I get up to leave the water.
“I’m tired,” I say, not exactly lying. “I think it’s time for me to turn in.”
“I feel that,” Max says with a yawn, and I’m grateful for the backup.
“Okay.” Meredith sighs, releasing me.
Both of my feet are on dry land now. If only my libido wasn’t still skyrocketing, this would be a nice ending to a stressful night. I wrap my towel around my dripping body as quickly as possible and head back into the resort. I refuse to look over my shoulder. I can feel Natalie’s concerned eyes boring holes into my back.
Don’t look at me, Natalie. I promise, you won’t like what you see.
Chapter Fourteen
Natalie
“Well, that was weird,” Meredith grumbles, clearly disappointed that Cam called it quits so early.
“I hope he’s okay,” Grace adds. Tyron, on the other hand, is completely unconcerned by the moment’s drama.
“We were walking around that course for hours today,” he says with a stretch. “A man can be tired.”
This seems to appease everyone else in the hot tub. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that something about Cam is off. There’s simply no denying that his behavior is unusual. I sneak a glance at Jack, and he returns the look. We’re in agreement. This doesn’t feel right.
“I’m pretty tired myself,” I announce to the group. I stand and let the water drip off my body before reaching for my towel.
“Oh, come on! You too?” Jessie whines. I’m distressing the bride-to-be, but the well-being of my best friend is a far higher priority.
“Yeah, all that wine and the bubbles and warmth of the hot tub have made me sleepy,” I say, forcing a small yawn to convey exhaustion. I don’t stick around long enough to see if they buy it. With my towel tucked tightly under my arms, I slip my feet into my flip-flops and enter the resort, then tiptoe down the hall.
Knockity-knock-knock.
“Cam?”
After a few moments of silence, I hear footsteps. The door opens. Cam, fresh out of the shower, stands in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. I keep my eyes locked on his, so as not to dwell on the broad expanse of his shoulders or the perfectly defined muscles of his abs. Focus, Natalie.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Can I come in?”
He hesitates. Then after a second, he opens the door a few inches wider, allowing me to step inside. The door clicks softly behind me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, tempted to reach out and place a hand on his arm. The toned muscle there is tempting to touch, but I should respect his boundaries.
Shouldn’t I?
“I’m fine,” he says curtly, and we both know he’s lying. I wait for him to change his mind, to try again—this time with a better choice of words. He’s silent, his eyes as empty as the air between us.
“Will you talk to me?”
“Honestly, Natalie. I’m just tired.”
Cam says this, and I would believe him except for the strain in his voice. What has him looking so tortured?
Or who?
“Thanks again for the scarf,” he says when I’m silent. “I really love it.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, as if he’s trying to appear cheerful but doesn’t have it in him. It’s not that I don’t believe he’s grateful. I just don’t believe he’s happy.
“You’re welcome,” I say, but I don’t care about the stupid scarf right now. I care about him.
“You should get back to everyone else.” When he opens the door and waits for me to step through, I don’t move, refusing to take the cue to leave him. I don’t want to leave him.
I want to hold him.
I take a step toward him and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my body into his familiar scent, his familiar warmth. He releases the door, but he doesn’t wrap his arms around me. They hang at his sides, unmoving.
Why?
Still, I won’t let him go. I only hold him tighter. Burying my nose in the soft skin of his chest, I listen closely to the sound of his heart. It’s pounding like a fist against a door, begging to be opened.
What happens if I open it?
Oh. The answer to that question is pressing into my stomach, a rock-hard reminder of our nearly bare bodies. Is this really just a male reaction again? He has to feel this too. This kinetic energy between us. This undeniable pull. I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s something huge.
I look up at Cam and meet his eyes, brimming with secrets. I need answers, and I need them now.
No more secrets, Cam.
“What’s going on?”
The man in my arms doesn’t answer with his words. Instead, he takes hold of the edge of my towel and pulls it from my body. I gasp at the sensation of our skin pressing intimately together. I brace myself against his chiseled arms, digging my fingers into his biceps for purchase.
He isn’t done. He lifts his hands, one to my hip, one to my cheek. His thumb draws a small circle on my exposed hip bone. With the side of his knuckle, he traces the outline of my lower lip. I stay very, very still so he won’t notice the slight shudder racing down my spine.
“I can’t tell you,” he says so softly that it breaks my heart.
“Yes, you can.” I barely recognize my own voice. Cam’s eyes, dark and hurting, are locked on my lips. I want to ease that pain.
And I think I know how.
I lean in closer, pulling myself up to his level with my hands on his chest. Our breaths mingle and everything is warm, the air between us aflame.
“You’re killing me.” These are the words that fall from Cam’s lips before they meet mine.
God.
My lips are locked against his in the softest of kisses. I catch his lower lip with my own, pressing every ounce of my feelings into him. Every thank you for being there for me. Every you’re perfect for being exactly what I need.
Can he feel how much I care for him?
He’s still for a whole Mississippi second—a second too long for me to bear.
Oh God. What have I done?
But the moment I pull away, Cam leans in. His hands are on my face, holding my lips against his. He tilts my head, digs his fingers into my hair, and opens his mouth to mine.
“Natalie . . .”
The sound of my name slipping so lustfully from the back of his throat sends a jolt all the way down. All the way down.
I pull myself even higher on my toes, clinging to him with my arms around his neck. He returns the favor, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me tight against him. Our mouths are magnetic, unable to separate, unwilling to stop.
My God. I’m kissing Cam.
I’m kissing my best friend.
I’m kissing him and I can’t stop.
I dart my tongue between his lips, caressing the underside of his upper lip. He growls, maddened by my bold move. His finge
rs blaze fiery trails down my neck and shoulders. His hands explore me, memorizing the slope of my back and the curve of my hips. Each touch is so soft, yet so electric.
Soon it’s all frantic kisses and eager moans that I’m pretty sure are coming from me. I press into his shoulders, leaving handprints on his chest. My fingers draw lines down his abdomen, then finally trace along the bulge beneath his towel.
Cam jerks back, his eyes full of questions.
But there’s no more time for questions. We’ve wasted far too much of it.
I don’t yank his towel off like he did mine. Instead, I lean in to kiss his neck, slowly opening the front knot. With my breath against his warm neck, I place my palm against his most sensitive parts. The towel falls to the floor and he’s completely naked, cupped in my hand. I step back, eager to see what’s before me.
He’s beautiful.
Hung like some god from mythology, he couldn’t be any more magnificent. The same Cam, but an entirely different Cam. A man who undeniably wants me. How did I miss this entire chapter of my life, waiting so patiently for me to turn the page?
I pull Cam into a hard kiss, a kiss that says I’m not letting you go. He’s more than happy to concede to my demands now that his hands have found my bikini-clad ass. He traces the line of fabric before dipping his fingers inside to give me a good squeeze. I gasp, and he smirks against my lips.
I barely notice that he’s walking me backward until my knees hit the bed and buckle. I lie back and he moves himself on top of me, dropping needy kisses on my chest that beg for more contact than this bikini will allow. His thick, dark hair is between my fingers, and I can’t get enough of the texture. I moan as the corner of his mouth grazes my nipple, just peeking out of its bikini confines. Growing impatient, I pull his face up to mine again, all tongues and love bites.
If I was ever cold from leaving the hot tub, I’ve forgotten. Hell, I’ve forgotten what cold even feels like. Here, underneath this man as he moves on top of me, I only feel fire.
There’s a pressure against my bikini bottoms. I can feel his need for me, hot and demanding. It’s so good, so perfect, and I can’t help grinding my hips up against him. I need you too.