One Night with Hemsworth (One Night Series Book 1) (8 page)

“I want to take my time with you, bring you so close to the edge numerous times that when you do finally come, you’ll almost pass out.”

She moaned under me, moving her hips in sync with mine. “Isn’t the whole point to get to the finish line?” Her breathing was ragged in between words.

I completely stilled on top of her, raising up on my hands to look down at her with a furrowed brow. “You’ve been with some real assholes, haven’t you?”

“I …”

“Don’t answer that, it was rhetorical.” I covered her mouth with mine, a silent vow to show her how good going slow can be.

Granted, I’d been that asshole before—basically with every girl I’d been with since Reece. It was a simple formula, get them off quicker than I could get myself off, and be done with it.

What this girl was doing to me, though … I wanted to stay buried in her for as long as possible. Enough wasn’t even a word in my vocabulary when it came to Paige.

Moving my lips from hers, down her neck, I loved the small sounds she made and then tried to cover them up by clamping her mouth shut.

She wriggled her hips beneath me, making me move inside her.

“You’re an impatient little thing, aren’t you?” I said with a laugh.

She nodded, reaching down to grab my ass and push me deeper inside.

“Fuck!” Everything with her felt amplified, and I had to use all of my concentration to make sure I didn’t come with that one thrust. “You’re not going to let me take my time, are you?”

She shook her head, her cheeky grin making me lose all control. I hooked one of her legs over my shoulder and started moving in and out of her, slowly building up speed. When she started arching her back off the bed and breathing heavily, I grabbed one of her hands and lowered it between our bodies.

“Touch yourself, Paige. Come undone for me.”

The sight of her touching her clit brought me to the edge.

I dove into her deeper, harder, hoping she’d beat me to the punch. I was on the brink and not sure how long I had left.

She tightened around me, and that was it—I was done. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. We moaned our release together as I lowered her leg from my shoulder. Our pace gradually slowed until I collapsed on top of her.

I rolled onto my side and brought her with me, not willing to break the connection just yet. Our limbs wrapped around each other, our breathing synced, and I was the most content I’d felt in years. Possibly ever. She fit perfectly around me, moulding to me. I could’ve stayed like that forever.

What. The. Fuck.

A sudden chill crept down my spine as panic rushed through me.

When I told her earlier that I just wanted to be inside her again and it had nothing to do with Reece, I totally thought I was lying. Not completely, but I knew Reece had
something
to do with it.

Until Paige opened the bathroom door back at the pub, I’d been strong. I wasn’t going to keep picturing her naked like I’d done all week. I wasn’t going to make a move. Then suddenly I was on her and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. We almost came to our senses earlier in the kitchen, but all she had to do was take her friggin’ top off and I was a goner.

With her lying in my arms, I truly realised I wasn’t lying at all. It really did have nothing to do with Reece and everything to do with Paige. A girl I barely knew. A girl I was finding myself so wrapped up in that I’d risk losing my son for her.

That thought alone made me feel sick.

Pulling out of her and pushing her off me as gently as I could manage, I went to stand as she rolled onto her back. Her satisfied smile was more than I could handle.

I stood quickly, rushing to the bathroom. At the bathroom sink, I breathed in deep, trying to ward off the panic building inside me.

The two times I’d been with her, my intense want to have to her again and again consumed me. Trying to fuck her out of my system wasn’t going to work. That’d be like giving a heroin addict more heroin in hopes they’d get over it.

We’d crossed a line, knowing full well what the fallout was going to be.

Splashing my face with water, I didn’t know what to do. A giant part of me was screaming to go back to bed and hold her in my arms all night. But that other, small, tiny, nagging part was telling me to go back out there and offer to drive her home.

I didn’t get crushes. I wouldn’t allow it. With all of the other girls I’d been with, it was easy not to get attached.

In just a week, Paige had made me unstable. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but I didn’t care. When it came to her lips on mine and her hand around my dick, I didn’t care about the possible consequences. And that made me feel like the shittiest person in the world.

The reality of our situation hit me like a punch in the gut. It was going to end one way or another. We just didn’t know when.

10

- PAIGE -

He was freaking out. I saw it in his face as he left me in bed, and I didn’t really blame him. Even though he wanted me here and asked me here,
I
convinced him to go through with it. I had to practically beg him to have sex with me.

What is wrong with me?

While I was still wrapped in his sheets, trying to figure out what to do—get up and get dressed and leave or stay and talk it out—he emerged from the bathroom and climbed back into bed next to me.

He pulled me close and lowered his face to mine, kissing me slowly. He closed his eyes and pulled me tightly against him. His tongue stroked mine in a slow, loving manner, not with need like earlier.

When he pulled away, he brushed a strand of hair off my face with his hand. “We need to talk.”

I laughed, but it was sad. “I know.”

“Okay, how many guys have you been with?”

I pulled back, screwing up my face. “What? I wasn’t thinking
that’s
what we needed to talk about.”

“I’ve been with nine.”

“You’ve been with nine guys?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow mockingly.

He laughed. “No. Nine girls. Including you. Considering up until three years ago, Reece was the only girl I’d ever … well, yeah, eight girls in three years is a lot.”

I pursed my lips. “Not really. Averages out to under three a year, that’s one every four months, and considering you told me you don’t do relationships, a one-night stand every couple of months is reasonable.”

He sighed heavily.

“And to answer your question, you’re number five. Three previous one-nighters and Hamish.”

“Who cheated on you?”

I nodded.

His jaw tensed. “Okay, this isn’t doing what it was supposed to do. New topic, tell me you hate puppies.”

“What?” I laughed. “What is this supposed to be doing? And where did that question come from?”

“Just answer the question. Do you hate puppies?”

“I don’t want to hurt them or anything, but I’m certainly not wishing I had one as a pet. It’d probably die. I’m barely responsible for my own life let alone someone else’s.”

“Okay, that’s good. Do you love the beach?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Stop answering my questions with a question. I have a point, I swear.”

“Yes, I love the beach. I live in a beach town, who doesn’t love it here?”

He grinned. “Me. I hate the beach. Have lived here my whole life, and only go when I have to—like when Cody wants to go. I hate sand, it gets everywhere, it makes that squeaky noise when you shuffle your feet, which is one of Cody’s favourite things to do. It drives me insane. It’s like nails on a chalkboard.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re asking me all these weird questions.”

“I also love puppies. I’d have a whole litter of them if I didn’t live in an apartment. Reece and I always said we’d get Cody a puppy when he was old enough, but we broke up before that ever happened.”

It took a while for me to realise what he was doing, but then it clicked. “Oh, you’re trying to find reasons to not like me. You don’t
want
to like me.” It put a smile on my face knowing he was already struggling to walk away from me, as selfish as that was. “In that case. I hate puppies, but they taste delicious.”

He laughed that same deep chesty laugh I heard last week.

“I live at the beach. Every single day. I want to get married on the beach, make babies on the beach … no wait, that’d hurt. I’ve heard it’s like rubbing sandpaper down there. I take that back, but the rest is true. Oh, and I lied about how many guys I’ve slept with. I’ve slept with at least a hundred. Wait … what answer would’ve made you like me less? If I had more experience or less? Because some guys don’t like an inexperienced girl because she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Others don’t like sluts, even though they’ve probably had more sexual partners than that so called ‘slut.’ Which brings me to another point—why are guys such asses? I mean, if we have more than a handful of sexual partners, we’re deemed slutty or easy. But they put their dick in anything that moves, and they’re not? From what you’ve told me, Hunter is a total slut but no one seems to pull him up on it except for you.”

“He’s a total slut.”

“So yeah, you’re all asses for that. It’s why I hate men. All of them.”

He pulled me close so my head was on his chest. “Thanks for trying, but you’re making me like you more, so you need to be quiet now.”

“I killed a man once,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“So not helping.”

My laughter dies and with it, my smile. “This can’t happen again, can it?”

“Maybe if you’d stop being so perfect …”

I buried my head into his chest. “I’m far from perfect. Just ask Hamish.”

“That dickhead doesn’t get a say. I was wondering how you could come across so confident one moment, then shy and unsure the next. I think I have my answer.”

“Aren’t all girls a little self-conscious, though? It’s in our nature.”

“I think it’s more than that with you.”

I shrugged. “I haven’t exactly had the best history when it comes to guys. The first guy I slept with, I had a crush on for nearly all of high school, so when he asked me to go upstairs at a party, I didn’t even hesitate. I stupidly thought if I did it, he’d want more. You can guess how the rest of that went—not exactly the nicest way to lose my virginity.”

He grasped my shoulder tighter, trying to comfort me, but he didn’t say anything.

“The second guy was one of my best friends. One night with no chemistry and a ruined friendship later …” I sighed. “The third was a friend of Sara’s who I’d met a couple of times. It was no big deal. I knew there wasn’t a future with him when I went home with him. Then there was Hamish—”

“His name is Dickwad,” Cole interjected.

I smiled, impressed that he remembered Sara’s and my nickname for him. “Yeah, him. He was your typical control freak. I guess there was only so many times I could be told I was doing something wrong before I started to believe it. I get self-conscious about stuff because he always made me feel inadequate—not sexy enough, not funny enough, not loving enough. Not even smart enough. He’s studying law too, although his schedule is completely different to mine this year, thank God. He would always gloat at scoring higher than me on a test, telling me I should’ve done better. But if I ever beat him, he’d sulk and not talk to me. It got to the point where I lied and told him he’d gotten a higher mark.”

“How long were you together for?”

“A little over a year.”

“Why did you put up with that for so long?”

I didn’t want to answer him. I couldn’t. I didn’t want Cole to know how weak I was, how I let a guy take control over my life, all because I didn’t want to be alone.

“Shortcake, look at me.”

I shook my head.

He tilted my face up to meet his eyes. “Why did you stay with him?”

I sighed. “Whenever we’d fight, he’d always say that I couldn’t get a boyfriend before him, I’d be lucky to find anyone better if I left. His dad is a colleague of my dad, and we kind of got set up that way. The way Hamish carried on about it, it was like he was paid to date me or something. I think any strong person could easily be trapped by someone like that. By the end, I believed him. When I first saw those texts and realised he’d cheated on me, my first thought was to blame myself, that I wasn’t good enough for him or was shit in bed or something, and he
had
to look elsewhere.”

“You are
far
from that, and if I have to take you one more time to prove that, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

I laughed and slapped his chest before turning serious. “It started off slow, you know? I didn’t realise how bad it got until it was over. I’m just glad I still had the strength to actually leave him. I think if it weren’t for Sara, I might’ve forgiven him and tried harder to please him.”

Cole tensed underneath me. “That’s so bullshit. You deserve so much better than guys like him, like me.”

“Are you ever going to tell me why you think you’re such a bad guy?”

“Well, if we’re all about sharing …” He kept his arm around me but stared up at the ceiling.

I couldn’t believe how easy this conversation was going, or how exactly we ended up talking about our pasts, but I wanted to know something more about him. Like a trade-off. God knew I just dumped a whole heap of shit on him.

“I’ll save you the sob story that was my childhood and just let you know that my dad was a drunk. An angry drunk. I guess it runs in the family. I started going out with Reece when we were in high school, so she knew all about my dad and what I’d endured growing up. I was in my first year of uni when we found out she was pregnant with Cody, so we decided to get married—”

“Why? It’s not like you were living in the fifties. Plenty of people have kids these days without being married.” I wanted to bite my tongue. I was being judgemental.

He laughed. “We knew that. But we were in
love.
Ugh. Anyway, I dropped out of uni and took an apprenticeship so Reece could stay home with Cody while I worked to pay all the bills. I hated the job but was doing it for my family, so it seemed worth it. As relationships tended to do, we had our great moments, but we also had strained moments. The night of … the incident … I was feeling particularly down about the fact I was working a shit job with no future, we were barely making ends meet, and Reece and I were in a bit of a slump. Cody was asleep, and I lost count of how much Jack I’d had trying to make myself numb.”

“But you said you don’t drink spirits?”

“I don’t. Anymore. So, anyway, Reece and I started arguing, which wasn’t anything new—it’d been happening a lot. God, I was such dick to her. My head was so messed up, I couldn’t think straight, and it escalated so quickly. I started yelling at her, calling her a slut, adamant she was cheating on me. She burst into tears, but I just kept yelling. I went to walk away, I wanted out. I told her I was leaving her and that I’d had enough …” He breathed in heavy and let out a shuddery breath. “And that’s when she grabbed my arm to stop me. I spun around, grabbed her by her shoulders, and slammed her against the wall. She smacked her head so hard, a lump formed later. I was gripping her arms so tight, she ended up with bruises in the shape of my fingers. At the time, I didn’t realise I was holding on that hard. She got this terrified look in her eye, and I pulled away, quickly realising what I’d done. I was immediately sorry, but the adrenaline and tension was still running high. And then she went and muttered, ‘Like father, like son,’ and I lost it again. My fist connected with the wall right behind her head. To this day, I still don’t know whether I purposefully missed or if I was just too drunk and got lucky. I wanted to hit her. I’d never felt that kind of anger before, but in that moment, I wanted to hit her. That much I know.”

As scared as I should’ve been after that story, it didn’t even sound like the Cole I knew. Then again, I still didn’t really know him. “Had anything like that happened in the past?” I barely got the question out, and it was so quiet, I was surprised he heard me.

“Not physically like that. That was breaking point for me. I used to yell at her a lot when I was drunk. Most of the time for no other reason than I blamed her for why my life was shit.” He let out a sad laugh. “Funny thing is, my life was far from shit. I had a family, a home, yeah, my job sucked, but it paid the bills and kept my kid clothed and happy. It really was one of those things where I didn’t realise what I had until it was gone. First world problems, hey?”

“What happened after that?”

“She stormed into Cody’s room and locked me out, and I went to bed and cried myself to sleep. The next day when I woke up, Reece and Cody were gone, and later that afternoon I was slapped with a domestic violence order and told to stay away from both of them. I moved in with Hunter and didn’t see Cody at all for six months after that. I drank heavily every night just trying to forget what I’d done, the pain I’d caused, the fact I turned out exactly like my father. The only reason I get to see Cody now is because Hunter convinced me to go to counselling and Reece to give me a chance. I had to promise her I wouldn’t drink anymore. She agreed to not keep Cody from me, but I lost her for good. Which I totally agree with. I should’ve lost her. What I did was unforgivable.”

“Do you still have feelings for her?”
Please say no, please say no.
The question was random, and probably inappropriate, but I silently begged him to lie if he did have feelings for her. I didn’t think I could hear that he was still hung up on his ex. My stepmother of all people.

“I think I always will, but not like
that.
I’m grateful for her. I put her through a lot, and she has the power to take Cody away from me, but she hasn’t because she knows he’s everything to me. If I lost him …”

“It all makes sense now,” I whispered. I wrapped my arms around him tighter, nuzzling my head into the crook of his shoulder.

“Why aren’t you running out of here?” His question was almost inaudible.