I swat his butt with my club as the sidewalk continues to pass us by. "No you cannot! I see little people everywhere. I've never been to jail and I don't intend to pop that cherry. I have boundaries."
He laughs. "Bummer. The back of a cop car could actually be fun..."
"We shall never find out," I retort, as he finally puts me down on a patch of green.
"Too bad. Could've popped my cop car cherry too. Oh well."
My brows arch. "You've never been arrested? Isn't that kind of a goal with guys? You know, something you can brag about to all your friends..."
"Nope. Well, just that time I told you about in the cab at the parking lot of the club, but I didn’t actually go to jail. The cop kindly drove my drunk ass back home. Long story. I won't lie. I wanted to beat the shit out of several guys in my life, but two wrongs don't make a right and it doesn't change the outcome of why I wanted to beat their asses in the first place. And two, I like my freedom. I want my pants to stay around my waist unless a female is pulling them off, and nothing is going up my ass."
"Yet you'll put something up mine?"
"Two very different things, sexy. No one, not even female, is shoving something in my ass. Not my preference. I'd rather do the pitching, not catching. I don't judge those that like that sort of thing, but I prefer curves and a nice rack to accompany the ass I'm fucking." He turns to glance behind him. "Before we create a line...ladies first. You're up, beautiful."
"Okay, but don't laugh." I look around me, trying to figure out a discrete way to wing this. There are lots of small patches of green as far as the eyes can see. Each one a little different shape and size. Some end with houses, some have caves, and some have moving objects. I see bridges and small ponds and pools.
"I can make no such promise."
I take a deep breath. "So, is that why you called this the king of goofy golf? The whole Cinderella castle they have going on?"
"Maybe. They also have rides and other stuff to do besides golf...like bumper boats." He wriggles his brows.
Bumper boats...I really should get out more.
I set the ball down at the start of the green in the center of the lane and stand behind it with my club in hand. I should have gone on that youth night mini golfing trip my church went on when I was in the seventh grade. I'm starting to regret my decision to stay home, because the first thing that pops in my head is the part where the queen and Alice on Alice in Wonderland are playing croquet with the flamingos and the little rats - I don't remember what those things are called. Oh yes...hedgehogs.
It has to be pretty similar to that. I glance at the rounded lane and spot the hole at the end, trying to figure out how I'm supposed to make that. How many chances do I get? Is it kind of like baseball - three strikes you're out? I grip the club with both hands: each hand holding a portion of the club. I move to the side of the ball and rare back the club, preparing to hit it. "You've never played before...have you?"
Dammit.
My head hangs, and I bring the club back down, not making a move to look at him. "Is it that obvious?"
"You could have just said so," he says lowly into my ear, wrapping his body around mine from behind.
"That sounds ridiculous. Who hasn't played miniature golf before?"
"There may not be many, but you're experiencing it now...with me. That's all that really matters." My eyes close as his hands take place on top of mine. "Hands on the grip not the metal."
He slides my hands into the proper place. "You're right handed, right?"
"Yes."
"Dominant hand goes on top of the other. It gives you more control over your swing. Feet shoulder width apart, just behind the ball." His body is molded to mine, making sure I'm aligned correctly. "We aren't playing regular golf, so you don't need that high of a swing. We're sending the ball ten yards at most. See the brick at the curve?"
"Yes," I whisper, trying to prolong this for as long as possible.
"Best bet is to aim at the center and let the ball bounce off of it to send it up the incline toward the hole."
"What if I miss?"
"Then you try again from the point that the ball stops."
"How many chances do I get?"
"As many as it takes to make the hole. Each hit is a stroke. The winner is the player at the end of the last hole with the least amount of strokes."
"That will most likely be you."
"You might be surprised." He kisses my cheek and backs up, leaving me standing alone, gripping this club. My shoulders fall. I want him back over here. I glance between the brick that he told me to aim at and the pink ball, pulling my club back a few inches, and then hitting the ball, driving it forward toward the curve.
It hits, bouncing off and rolling up the hill, but stops just as it reaches the flat green, a few feet from the hole. "Not bad. It should be easy now."
I look at him with a proud smile, before walking up the green to my pink ball, and then repeat the motion, watching as it rolls into the hole. I jump up and down before I can stop myself. "I got it in two!"
"You did. Not bad at all for a beginner."
"What now?"
"Get your ball and get out of the way." He laughs, placing his into position, before making a dramatic warm up with his club.
Just as I move out of the way he hits, sending his ball rolling in the same place I did, only his continues up the hill and rolls until it falls into the hole. I look at him. "Way to crush a girl's dreams. You could have at least given me the first hole."
He laughs, making his way toward the hole to grab his ball, then places his arm around my shoulders as he leads me to the next one. Most of the other families are several holes ahead of us. "I could have, but where is the fun in that? If it makes you feel better, I've had lots of practice. What most people do for fun I do for a living. When you don't date or hang in crowds of couples or go clubbing to look for pussy like most guys, you have to find shit to do. When I'm off, I don't even want to hear the word sex or pussy. I come here a lot. I just figured a place full of kids is a safe zone."
The more I get to know him the further I fall...
"So that night at my apartment when I practically begged you to hook up with me, you were probably cringing then, huh?"
"No, baby. You are the exception. That's what got me to your apartment in the first place. It was only those exact circumstances that I even thought twice. I knew you were better than that. That's all."
He stops at the beginning of a lane that leads to a large house resembling a Gingerbread house. "Goal is to make it up the ramp and through the house first. Then we'll walk around."
"Oh geez. Are they just going to get harder and crazier as the course goes on?"
"That's the goal; the goofier the more fun. Getting it in isn't the hard part."
"Said the guy who has experience with balls and holes."
He looks up at me from writing something on a small square of paper and grins, and then slides it into his back pocket. He watches me, as he grabs the bill of his cap and pulls it off his head, turning it around. Don't put it back on. Don't put it back on.
He's putting it back on...
"We turning the game up a few notches?"
He walks toward me. I back up, toward the place I'm supposed to be putting, and put my hand out in a stop sign to make him halt. His chest presses against it. "Nope. No, we are not."
"Are you sure? There is no such thing as too much practice."
"For the preservation of innocent minds, would you please cut that crap out? I cannot handle the level of sexiness that you know you're emitting with that damn hat on like that. There, I said it. That is my favorite view. Now step away."
He rests his club handle between his closed legs, holds his hands up, surrendering, and then radiates a huge grin. "You think I'm hot," he teases.
"Oh my god. Are we in middle school?"
"Middle schoolers don't do the things that I do to you, baby, and I'm not through with you yet. Now hit the ball."
I blush, and then turn to continue the game that is going to take us all day at this rate. Taking my stance, I glance between the ball and the ramp, then decide the ball isn't where I want it, so I move it, and then start over. I pull back, and just as I go to hit the ball Saxton smacks my ass, causing me to hit it from an angle, sending it off to the left where it bounces off the corner and rolls just an inch before stopping. "I'm going to kill you. I swear it. You ass!"
I turn to look at him and he's laughing. "It's all about concentration, baby."
"I'm going to show you concentration when I shove this club up your ass. That was a dick move. Now I have to add a stroke just to get it back in front of the damn ramp." I growl.
"So much hostility from such a small body." He continues to laugh, not fazed by my anger at all. I narrow my eyes at him, and then walk down the sidewalk beside the green, toward my ball. When I get my club into position, I tap it just hard enough to send it to the center. Surprisingly the angle is on my side and it stops right in front of the ramp.
I reposition, but this time hit it harder, giving it enough drive to push it up the ramp. My arms fly into the air, forming a V for victory, then I spin around to look at him. "HA! How you like that?"
"Getting better already. You might even beat me," he teases, and then winks at me as he prepares to putt.
I walk toward him, on top of the green, making him wait, with my heart still racing from the sight of him.
Using my club like a jousting lance, I hook it with his and continue around him. He stares down at the two connected, and then up at me. "You know, Maverick...you may be unaffected by me, but I am determined to find immunity to your sexiness. Soon...very soon. I'm challenging myself. Before long, I'm going to be on your level. Mark my words."
He releases his club, letting it fall to the ground. His hands snake around my waist, underneath my arms, and then he lifts me off the ground. My legs grip around his waist and my hands around his neck. "What are you doing?"
He looks up at me. "That would be a nightmare for me, Kambry. Just because I'm good at pretending, doesn't mean I'm immune to you. I may pick and play, tease you and give you hell, but that's just my personality. I've been that way all of my life. The guy you met in the club was the unhappy version of me. I was worn down. Sure, it hasn't been all that long since I first laid eyes on you, but the day that I look at you and see no emotion, I'll know the fun between us is long gone and it's time to move on. I don't want to ever get to that point. You really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?" I ask, confused.
"This is the happiest I've been in my life in a really long time, maybe ever. There is only one thing that's been incorporated that is different from any other time...and that's you."
My stomach is twisted in knots. My heart is racing. When I'm around him I can't control how I feel. Every feeling is amplified. It's addictive. I never want it to end. "I don't know what's real and what's for the cameras anymore..."
"You think I would just tell you that for fucking cameras?"
"No, that's not what I mean."
"Then what?"
"Nothing. It's stupid. I'm probably just confused and should keep it to myself. This is where my lack of experience is annoying."
"Tell me."
"It's just...when you say things like that, the way we are together, the way I feel when I'm around you... It all feels real. I know it's supposed to be an adaptation or a portrayal, but you kind of feel like my best friend now, except you're that friend that I like to kiss and hook up with. None of it feels fake. The lines are blurred for me. To be honest, most of the time I forget that we actually live under cameras. Weird right? Barely any time has passed, but I feel like-"
"I'm falling in love with you..."
Surely I heard that wrong. I blink, continuously. Did I?
"You didn't."
"Didn't what?"
"Hear me wrong."
"How did you?"
"I don't know. I just had a hunch, so I went with it."
"It's not just me?"
"No, it's not." He gives me a small smile. "I'm not sure what to do about it, or how to feel; if I should be happy or not. I have a lot to figure out, but time will tell."
"So it's bad, right?"
"No. That’s not what I mean. It's just... Kambry, I've loved someone before, like really, full heart in, loved someone. I gave her my all. I thought we wanted the same things. I thought we both wanted each other forever, and one day even a family. I didn't go to college looking for that, but it sort of just appeared, so I jumped on board with no ticket and wound up somewhere that I didn't sign up for. I wasn't stupid enough to think that I would never meet another girl that made me want to try again, but what scares the hell out of me is that my feelings for you are developing faster and harder than they did with her, and it kind of came at the worst fucking time. I'm a porn star. I don't really have a plan mapped out for my life like I did back then. Plus, I know you say you'd never hurt me like that, or do what she did, but even if you didn't I'm still unsure if the benefit is worth the risk. You know?"
My chest hurts. This isn't exactly the way I pictured discovering I was in love with someone for the first time and basically admitting it out loud turning out. This kind of sucks, but even though it does I still feel the same. "Okay. I'm sorry. I don't really have anything to compare it to. I dated someone for two years, and even though it wasn't, it felt more like an arranged relationship than anything." I pause, thinking. "Yeah...you're probably right. I don't really know what I want to do with my life either. I'm so much younger than you anyway. I probably have way more wild oats left to sow..."
"This is not coming out right," he whispers.
I feel like such a downer now. I'm not even really sure how we got on this topic of conversation. I should have kept my big mouth shut. I really should just quit my internal whining, take one for the team, and have a good time and enjoy the pay when this is all over; maybe go back to school, or something...
No, not yet.
I'm not done.
I'm going to whine to myself a little while longer.
Sometimes life really fucking sucks. Right now I feel like curling into the fetal position on my bed and crying. I feel like I did when I found out Santa wasn't real. I've been lied to. I want to burn the storybooks and erase the fairytales that all tell you that when you find your prince you live happily ever after. No you don't. In fairytales good guys fall for good girls and the evil end up in misery, but in real life, the good guy falls for the wicked witch, the evil stepsister, Ursula, or gets eaten by the dragon before he kisses his true love, while Belle ends up with the conceited buff guy that won't shut up, Cinderella dies a lonely maiden, Ariel is sentenced to a life pining after a man that was stolen from her, and Aurora and Snow White die without ever knowing what love feels like.
In real life, love is unfair. It's cruel. The sheltered southern girl falls for the heartbroken porn star and then has to watch their love over and over again on media because he's too scared he's going to be fucked over again, even though hurting him for me is equivalent to stabbing myself in the heart with a knife.
Love. Fucking. Sucks.
I totally get why people end up becoming nuns... Okay that may be a bit dramatic. I actually like sex and the intimacy of someone touching me, and kissing me, so maybe instead, I'm starting to see the appeal of this...being a porn star. You get the intimacy without the bullshit.
My legs release and slide down his body. "Kambry..."
I pull myself out of my sappy, love-struck, pity party. He sounds upset; his voice that is. His face is still just as beautiful as it has been even in the most playful mood. "No, it's fine. I get it. I'd probably be the same way too. Actually, you know what? What do you say we finish the game and then get out of here? We're actually off tonight. Surprising for a weekend night. I just kind of want to dance. Let's get dressed and go out. I haven't been to the club off the clock since the beginning of summer. I
can actually get away with drinking now. Sounds fun, right?"
"Kambry...talk to me."
"Are you guys done with this hole?"
I look at the couple standing with two young children. "I'm sorry. Yes, we're done. Give us just a second and we'll get our stuff out of the way."
"Kambry," he barks, as I reach down and pick up the clubs.
I smile at him. "Come on. I'm ready to play. I have a pro to beat."
I wink, trying to show playfulness, even though I don't feel it. I walk away, following the sidewalk to the next hole, crossing the wooden bridge along the way, and trying to pull my mood together. Tonight, I'm going to be wild. I'm leaving all reservations behind. Tonight, I'm going to be drunk. I'm going to try my hand at living free, uninhibited, and completely out of my mind. Tonight is the Neon Glow paint party at the club. That huge warehouse out back that was built for theme party nights and blow out bands is finally getting put to use.
I walk into the house with Saxton's footsteps on my heels. When I release the door to close it, he stops it with his palms and shoves it back open, causing it to bounce off the wall. Instead of looking back at him I continue toward the stairs. The ride has been quiet. I'm just not feeling the chirpy behavior at the moment. Everyone is entitled to a bad mood every now and then. Well, this is mine.
Miniature golf was still fun. Don't get me wrong. Everything I do with Saxton is. I'm just in a bummed out mood I guess, so I want to have fun. The club has been hyping up this Glow party for a while. The fact that I'm actually off is my sign that I need to just go and have fun. Completely letting go is something I've still never let myself do, in fear that I'll get myself into a permanent bad decision by accident or association, but the fact that I will have cameras on me the entire time hidden somewhere amongst the crowd, makes me want it now more than ever.
What better way to get into character mode than a little alcohol and a body covered in paint? Who knows what other shenanigans the night may hold. "Kambry." He calls out in a clipped tone, demanding my attention as I place my foot on the first step.
"Yeah?" I look at him as I respond, waiting for whatever he has to say.
Sex Sessions: Uncut (Camera Tales #1) Page 34