#Selfie (Hashtag Series Book 4) (3 page)

She moaned, the sound causing her teeth to release my skin, and her chin tipped up, exposing the pale, creaminess of her neck.

I left my rod right there where it was—teasing her core— even rocked a little so she would shudder as I sucked my way down her neck to her collarbone.

“Oh my God.” Her words sounded more like a prayer than anything. Her voice was almost unrecognizable to my ears. Her hands pulled free of my shorts and dug into the flesh on my back.

I took her lips again. She tasted like strawberries, and it reminded me of the daiquiris that were flowing freely at dinner and then later when we were all playing cards.

I ripped my mouth off hers and did a pushup so my body was raised up off hers, parallel to the bed. “Are you drunk right now?” I demanded.

I could’ve asked nicer, but just pushing out the words was difficult. The only thing I wanted to push right now was my cock inside her body.

“What?” she gasped, her eyes totally unfocused.

I let out a string of curses and shoved myself off the bed. I didn’t even bother trying to hide the huge-ass tent in my pants. She’d already felt it anyway.

She pushed up onto her elbows and looked at me, a little awareness coming back into her expression.

But then her eyes dropped, down to the place I wasn’t bothering to hide, and her teeth sank into her lower lip.

I groaned. “Don’t fucking do that.”

“You’re wet,” she murmured.

I glanced down. It was dark in here, but with the light from the moon coming through the window, I could see a dark spot on the front of my shorts.

I glanced back up at her thighs that were still spread.

She was wearing a dress thing, which meant when I was between her legs all that had been between us were her panties. Panties that were clearly soaked with her need.

Need so strong it soaked me too.

I moved fast, surprising us both, and clamped a hand around her ankle. Slowly, I towed her down the bed, toward me.

“Look. At. Me,” I ground out and held her chin so I could look into her eyes. “Are you drunk?”

Her eyes cleared a bit, enough that I could tell the only fog in her eyes was from what was going down between us.

“I had some drinks,” she said. “Hours ago.”

“So you’re not,” I surmised.

She shook her head slow. “They didn’t work.”

“Excuse me?” I said, impatient as my fingers left her ankle and started climbing up her calf.

“Turns out tequila isn’t enough to drown out the way you felt against me.”

My eyes snapped up.

Earlier at the grill. She’d been affected by me just as I had been by her.

“I’ve seen you looking,” she confided. “You like the way I look.”

I groaned. “God help me, I fucking do.”

Her eyes took in my bare chest, and I admit I puffed it out a little to give her more to see.

“I’m not drunk. Not even close. I know exactly what I’m doing right now, Braeden.”

Well, if that wasn’t a fucking hand-carved invitation, then I don’t know what was.

I dropped to my knees right there in front of the bed and dragged her down until her legs dangled off the side, her dripping center right near my face.

She pushed up onto her elbows and fisted a hand in the hair above my forehead. “Hey, what about you?”

“I’ve had some beer,” I murmured and slipped a finger inside the edge of her panties. Holy shit, she was shaved bare and soaking wet. “But don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’m still more than able to perform.”

She collapsed against the mattress and arched her back into the air. My finger dipped inside her, finding her hot and tight.

“I’m not stopping.”

“No one asked you to,” she shot back.

I pulled my finger back and reached beneath her dress for the waistband. My fingers met string. She was wearing that damned bikini that drove me nuts all goddamned week.

I pushed to my feet and took her hands. I knew she was surprised when I yanked her to stand. Hell, I preferred her on her back, too.

But I had to do this.

I ripped the cotton dress over her head and threw it onto the floor.

My upper lip curled when I took in all that skin covered by nothing but triangles of fabric and strings.

Her bikini was red.

It was barely there.

And the way her body looked in it…

More than once this week, I had to stop myself from pounding some random guy for staring.

It didn’t matter who stared at her.

Ivy wasn’t mine.

I didn’t want her.

But tonight… tonight I did.

Tonight she was mine.

I dipped my finger beneath the feeble string and followed it all the way around to the back of her neck where it tied. The goose bumps that rose across her skin weren’t lost on me.

“I don’t ever want to see this bikini on you again,” I rasped and pulled the end of the tie. I tugged slowly as I caught her eyes with mine. “I don’t want anyone else looking at you in it. Ever. Again.”

I released the strings and the top fell down, revealing a pair of perky, round breasts.

I was an ass man—we all know this—but that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate a fine pair of tits when I saw them.

I palmed them both. I filled my hands with her warm, supple flesh and kneaded gently. I wanted to be rough and fast. Need hammered in me almost like adrenaline. Almost like this was do or die.

But I couldn’t treat her body like that. Not now that I was staring at it, almost completely bare and unprotected.

I rubbed my thumbs over her erect nipples, and she purred, her forehead coming forward to rest on my shoulder.

I liked that.

It was almost like she couldn’t stand. It was almost like she needed me to hold her up.

I left her breasts and skimmed my fingers down her waist, following the hourglass shape of her body until I met the ties on either side of her hips. Her body trembled from being so close to mine, and it made me feel powerful.

I pulled both sides at the same time and let go. The fabric fell and tangled at my feet. Quickly, I pulled off the top, which was low around her waist, and it joined the rest of her clothes on the floor.

I couldn’t wait another second. I shoved my hand between her legs and cupped her sex. She groaned and lifted her head.

I captured her lips once more as I delved a finger into her opening. One of her hands wrapped around my bicep and held on while her other did a little moving of her own down into the waistband of my shorts.

Without any hesitation, her fingers wrapped around my throbbing rod and started pumping me slowly, to the same rhythm I moved my finger inside her.

Her hand was like a hot shower in the center of a snowstorm, like medicine to an ailing man. It was exactly everything.

I slid another finger inside her, spearing her with two. She whimpered and her knees buckled. Both of us fell back onto the bed. We started kissing again, and I lost myself in her, in the way she felt.

Eventually, she grew impatient. Her hands started pulling at my shorts, and I couldn’t stop my throaty chuckle from filling the room. I left her lying in the center of the bed to pull off my shorts and dig around in the duffle lying by the door.

I felt her molten stare when I pulled out a condom, and then I reached in for another.

One wasn’t going to be enough.

I tossed the extra onto the pillow near her head and then used my teeth to rip open the foil packet in my hand. I could wrap myself in my sleep if I had to. I could wrap myself even without the light of the moon. It was second nature, so it didn’t take long.

When I climbed between her legs, her hand shot out and palmed my balls. Gently, she cupped them, felt their weight, and then dragged her fingers down the inside of my thigh.

I grabbed her hand and nipped at her fingertip. She laughed, but it was a short-lived sound, dying in her throat when I reached for her other hand.

After threading our fingers together, I pinned her arms above her head. She looked up at me with eyes full of anticipation.

I thrust into her—one deep plunge straight into the heart of her body.

My body registered it all at once. Slick. Hot. Tight.

But while my body was overwhelmed with sensation, my brain totally blanked out.

A sudden stillness came over the room. It was like we didn’t even breathe. I looked beneath me. She looked up.

I knew the shock written on her face was mirrored back at her.

Something passed between us, something even my brain didn’t comprehend. My chest tightened and a burning sensation erupted right below my ribs.

Ivy untangled her hands from mine, reached around my ass, and pulled me in farther. When I tried to move, she made a sound and clutched at me some more. I remained buried so deep inside a faint voice warned me I might hurt her.

But then she started rocking.

Small, fluid movements against me. We were so tightly pressed together, my pelvis rubbed against hers.

Tension coiled low in my stomach as she rocked, her movements becoming faster, her thrusts becoming harder.

How the hell was I on top but she was in control?

I tightened my hands into the sheets, prepared to take over.

“Right there,” she whispered.

I felt her body begin to shake, but then her eyes went wide. A shocked, almost frightened look replaced the pure bliss from just seconds ago.

I pulled back immediately, not leaving her body completely, but almost.

“Did I hurt you?” My voice was hoarse.

“No,” she was quick to say, but she wouldn’t look me in the eye.

I grabbed her chin and forced her eyes up. “Tell me.”

“It felt good,” she rushed out. “Better than ever before.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, embarrassment written on her face.

And then I understood.

Ivy

I didn’t know it could be like this.

I wasn’t a virgin. I’d had more than a couple partners in bed.

Sex wasn’t something new to me.

Yet this feeling was.

The way my body seemed to open up just for him. It was almost as if there were some secret combination inside me no one knew. Not even me.

But Braeden knew.

The sensations that took over my body were foreign and quite frankly wicked. I felt like I’d just discovered an itch I didn’t know I had. It was too good. It was too enticing. It was too overwhelming.

It was scary.

“You’ve never had an orgasm.” He dropped the words into the moment, blowing up my world.

As much as I wanted to be embarrassed, as much as his discovery should have totally blown whatever the hell had come over us, it didn’t.

“I…” Words failed me.

A slow, seductive smile spread across his face. Even in the dark, I could see it reach his eyes. That smile held a lot of things. Passion, surprise… greed.

“I want it,” he announced.

Like just the declaration would make it his.

Who was he to think he could just demand I give him something like that? The jerk. I was about to tell him what I thought of his demanding ways when he slid his well-muscled arms between my back and the mattress, pulling my body flush up against his. His hips surged forward and his cock went deep again.

My eyes rolled back in my head.

Braeden started moving. He was so large and hard he filled me completely. I could feel every inch of him, and it was delicious.

His movements mirrored the way I moved earlier, and something inside me throbbed so desperately it was almost painful. Confused, I started to pull away.

His palm grasped the back of my head and he pressed me deeper into the mattress.

“Ivy.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said my name.

But it might as well have been.

My eyes locked on his, and I felt him between my thighs; his patience and will was unmatched.

“Give it to me.”

And then it happened. My nails dug into his back, my toes curled into the sheets, and pleasure rolled over me like a giant wave in the sea. It literally flowed through my entire body as I started to moan.

Braeden covered my mouth with his as I groaned and whimpered.

I was totally helpless to the way he milked my body. I’d never in my entire life felt anything more powerful.

When my body, totally spent, fell back in languid stupor, he rose above me, holding himself up on his arms, and drew back, only to surge into me again.

My mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Braeden totally took over and pumped his hips until his entire body went rigid and I felt his hot release inside me. When he collapsed on me, his skin was slick with sweat and his body jerked with little aftershocks.

So did mine.

Braeden had just become my own personal earthquake. Everything inside me felt rattled and shifted. The composition of my insides would never be the same again.

I didn’t mind the weight of him over me; in fact, I was grateful for it. Without it, I would surely float away. At least this way I stayed grounded.

Eventually, the electricity in the air evaporated, leaving behind two naked people piled on a bed. The sound of the ocean waves outside the window seemed to intrude, and the reality of what just happened settled in.

I just had sex with Braeden.

Braeden.

The guy I hated. The guy who slept with girls and then vanished, leaving them brokenhearted. I saw firsthand what he was capable of. After all, he did it to one of my best friends.

Missy was never going to forgive me for this.

All the muscles in my body tightened. My stomach clenched. The euphoria of my very first orgasm was being intruded upon by the fact the person who gave it to me was irrevocably off-limits to me.

I was a terrible person.

Braeden pushed away and walked into the adjoining bathroom. He didn’t say a word. I wondered if he was having the same mental breakdown.

I almost laughed.

Yeah, right. Braeden didn’t care about stuff like this. How many times had I heard him say it? He just had fun. He didn’t have feelings.

I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes.

How in the hell did he pull off no feelings after what just happened between us? Had everything I just experienced been totally one-sided?

Did it even matter?

He came out of the bathroom, leaving the light on but pulling the door around so the room was mostly still dark. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and I felt him move close behind me.

Now that my body wasn’t taken over by some evil alien—evil alien = Braeden’s touch—my brain was fully comprehending the implications of what just happened.

When Braeden grasped my shoulder and tugged, I rolled onto my back but avoided his stare. The muffled chuckle over me made me want to punch him.

And maybe poke out his eyes with my fingers.

But then he did something totally unexpected.

His large, warm palm landed on my thigh, and he tugged so my legs fell open. Before I could kick him, I felt a soft, cool cloth between my legs.

Oh, it felt nice.

I glanced at him, surprised.

He wasn’t looking at me, but he smirked. “Didn’t expect that, did ya?”

It was the absolute last thing in the history of earth I expected.

“I know you don’t really need cleaned up,” he began, “since, you know, we used a condom.” How was he so totally comfortable talking about this with me? “But that was pretty intense. You’re kinda small.”

I gasped at the shock underlying his tone.

“And this surprises you?” I demanded.

He shrugged as he gently held the cool cloth between my legs. “Yeah. I guess it does.”

“I’m not a slut,” I deadpanned.

His white teeth flashed against the dark. “Never said you were.”

“Not in so many words,” I muttered.

“I just thought this might help,” he said, wisely avoiding the issue. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

I didn’t want to be affected by his consideration.

Yet I was.

“You didn’t hurt me,” I whispered.

We lapsed into silence. Intimacy clouded the room; it was far thicker now than when he’d actually been inside me. There was something very intimate about him touching me, about him caring for the most secret spot on my body, without the suggestion of sex.

Oh my God, what had I done?

A few minutes later, he withdrew his hand—leaving the cloth in place—and cleared his throat. “I still don’t like you.”

Some of my freakout actually calmed.

“I still don’t like you either,” I agreed.

Chuckling, he flipped the comforter up over me. He reached for his cell lying nearby before he lay back down beside me. I should’ve been running out of this room.

I wasn’t ready to do that yet.

He checked the time and grunted. “Couple hours ‘til the sun comes up.”

Was he saying that because he wasn’t ready for me to leave yet either?

Of course not. This was Braeden.

“Relax. I have no intention of sleeping over. I’ll be out of here in a couple minutes.”

“Like it never even happened,” he murmured.

Something pierced my chest. “Believe me. I’m not telling anyone.”

The screen on his phone lit up again and shined in my eyes when he held it up in the air above us.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Taking a selfie.” The image of us lying in a rumpled bed—me with swollen lips and messy hair and him with a look of smug satisfaction across his face—reflected back at us.

The image was exactly like the fleeting moment we shared before.

Intimate.

I turned my head and looked at him. He was looking up at the screen, smiling for the camera. I took just an instant to stare. His strong, square jaw, his full lips and high cheekbones. He was incredibly good looking and at the same time, incredibly maddening.

“I thought you said this never happened,” I remarked, still watching him.

I heard the click of the camera. I knew he’d taken his selfie.

He tossed the phone aside and turned so our faces were mere inches apart and his dark, unreadable eyes stared into mine. “Maybe some things shouldn’t be forgotten.”

My stomach did a flip. Beneath the comforter, my hands flexed

“I still don’t like you,” I told him again.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “I still don’t like you either.”

“This can never happen again,” I said, serious.

“I’m not interested in a repeat.”

I felt a pang of something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

I rolled out of the bed and tried to take the comforter with me, for coverage. The jackass was lying on it and wouldn’t move.

I dropped it. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Yep.”

I hurried to pull on my swimsuit cover up. It was made out of combed cotton and so comfortable. Suddenly the idea of being naked with him nauseated me.

After I gathered up the pieces of my bikini and crept to the door, I stopped and turned. “I’m not this person… not anymore. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone this happened.” Damn the emotion in my voice. I’d already given him too much. Showing him anything more was suicide.

A wave of guilt washed over me. Guilt for so many different reasons.

“What happens in spring break stays in spring break,” he quipped. I relaxed, realizing he probably hadn’t even been paying attention to the sound of my words. Hell, I’d been lucky he even heard them.

I slipped out of the room, into the dark hallway.

Braeden’s words echoed behind me.

Funny, they didn’t make me feel any better. If anything, now I felt worse.