“No!” she croaks, and I smother a grin.
“She just needs a little stress relief,” I say, pulling her backward and starting to ease the door shut without removing myself from her body. “It was nice meeting you, Cole.”
“Caleb.”
“Doesn’t matter. It won’t come up again.”
With the heel of my boot, I kick the door shut just as Riley begins to come apart around me.
She sags forward, bracing her hands on the wall as she writhes in ecstasy, pinching her eyes shut.
And then I withdraw my fingers.
The sound that comes out of her mouth is otherworldly, like the cry of an animal in heat. Whirling around, she glares at me, and I smirk, pressing both fingers inside my mouth and licking them clean.
Those pretty blue eyes flare, explosive seas crashing against the sandy shore. But then she blinks, and they’re just resentful.
“What the hell?” she snaps, hands balling at her sides. Her face is flushed and glistening with sweat.
“Did you think I was gonna let you come? You haven’t been a very good girl, Riley, nor did you say the magic word.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “Magic word? What—”
Cutting her off, I wrap her hair around my fist, tilt her head back, and press a filthy kiss to her mouth. It’s all teeth and tongue, pent-up rage and unresolved sexual tension, and I almost lose myself in it.
“Do you like the way you taste on my tongue?” I mutter against her, exploring and warring as our lips mold into each other.
She moans, fingers scratching a path up my chest, but then I shove back, breaking the connection.
“I can’t believe I just let you finger me in front of my friend. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s been right with me for a very long time. You’re just now catching up.”
Wiping her mouth with the back of her palm, she huffs. “That was mean.”
I brush a hand over my shirt and shrug. “That was just the beginning.”
Without another word, I get the fuck out of her cabin, letting the promise linger in the air before I can make things worse.
Taking my cock out the second I’m back in my rental, I beat myself dry to the image of her spasming around me and the little sounds she makes.
My name coming from her lips.
And when I climax, hot ropes of cum staining the pair of silk panties I’ve wrapped around the crown of my dick, I try not to let it bother me that her friend said she told him about me.
26
Guilt is such a funny, foreign little thing.
It’s this entity inside us that reflects our greatest insecurities, placing the weight of shame and blame between our shoulder blades, even when we’ve done nothing wrong.
But there’s a certain level of comfort within it, too. If we can ascertain the issue, locate it within ourselves, well… then we can fix it.
If we fix it, then there’s no longer anything to feel bad about.
Problem solved.
Except, when you spend so long adopting everyone else’s resentment, that bitter, insecure feeling becomes part of you. Weaves into your soul and codes itself into your skin.
Pretty soon, everything is your fault. All the time.
You tiptoe around people just to avoid upsetting them, because it’s easier than admitting to yet another of your shortcomings.
As I sit in the back booth at Dahlia’s Diner, folding a straw wrapper into tiny white squares, it feels like I’m drowning in them, unable to pinpoint an exact place in my past where the blame began.
Snowflakes drift from the gray sky outside the window, and I wrap my fingers around my mug, inhaling the sweet smell of hot chocolate.
The diner’s empty except for Jade at the counter and a cook in the kitchen—par for the course in the middle of the week. I don’t know if it’s the knowledge that Aiden’s in town, or just the general sense of dread that seems to follow me, but it somehow seems less cozy than normal.
In truth, I should probably be more freaked out by the fact that Aiden James is here at all. That he spent the last three years obsessed with the idea of exacting revenge against a girl he knew for one night.
I definitely shouldn’t be letting him shove his fingers inside me, especially when he’s made it clear that he’s only here to punish me.
The nagging thought that I hardly let him do it flares up in my brain for the millionth time since he left the cabin yesterday. It’s followed by familiar unease, settling in the pit of my stomach where my mother’s ghost holds it hostage.
You didn’t exactly stop him, though, did you? Worthless little slut.
Blotting out the sound of her voice, I try to focus on what’s important.
How Aiden found me still remains a mystery, as does the question if he knows where I am, who else does?
And how long do I have before they show up?
The bell hanging above the front door chimes as someone enters the diner, but I’m too busy staring into my mug to pay much attention. My body, however, sits on high alert, primed to run at the first hint of danger.
It’s my heart that’s having a hard time keeping up.
A shadow falls over the table, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Every cell in my body expects to be shoved down the booth seat, or for the table to be jostled as Aiden slides in across from me, but neither of those things happens.
One of my eyes pops back open, snapping to the right of me; brown suede boots stand with their toes pointed in my direction, and as I drag my gaze up over faded Levi’s and an Aspen University hoodie, I exhale with relief.
“Mind if I join you?” Caleb asks, pulling the black knit hat off his head.
I nod, sliding my closed laptop out of the way, and he drops into the seat across from me.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” I ask, glancing out the window at his gallery, where I can see an elderly couple staring into the storefront.
“Shouldn’t you be?” he counters, leaning his head back against the seat. “I thought that’s why you come to Dahlia’s during the day, so you can work undisturbed and not have to make yourself lunch.”
“Hot cocoa break.” I raise the mug, taking a sip. “Besides, I don’t have any clients lined up for a bit because of Thanksgiving. You, on the other hand, seem pretty busy.”
Jade comes over and sets a red mug down in front of Caleb; they’ve been friends for so long, she knows what he wants without him even having to ask, and I can’t help the bubble of jealousy that pops in my chest at the familiarity.
“So,” Jade says, cocking one hip out as she rests a hand in her black apron pocket. “I hear I have you to thank for why I was pulled from a comfy evening at home last night and forced to put on a cocktail dress and mingle.”
My eyes flicker to Caleb, who just takes a drink of his cocoa. Glancing at Jade, I give what I hope is a sheepish smile.
“I only suggested he ask. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d agree.”
She scoffs, rolling her green eyes as she hooks a thumb at Caleb. “Yeah, try saying no to this guy. He wouldn’t fucking shut up about it, and his whining was distracting me from my shows.”
I smother a giggle. Though my age, Jade sometimes sounds like the oldest woman alive, and she’s got the grumpy personality to match.
Boyd would probably love her.