Page 43 of Foul Line

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He teases my nipple with his tongue before moving to the other. I pull him close to me, arching my body into his. “Christ, Tessa. You’re killing me.”

“You have months to make up for.”

He groans hard. He kisses his way down the center of my chest before hooking his fingers over the waistband of my shorts. He moves them down slowly, waiting until his kisses have caught up with my shorts that are just now moving around my hips. His mouth lingers there, swirling his tongue in delicious circles. “I’ve thought about this over and over again,” he confesses. “I was so close last time. Just one little taste.”

He pulls my shorts and panties down the rest of the way, and I help by kicking them off. He perches himself between my legs, his own excitement straining in his shorts as he lowers himself. This is so familiar, but there’s no one to stop us now. No threat of Sloan’s parents or party guests. The only one who can stop this now is one of us.

I place my hands on the back of his neck with gentle pressure. I swear I can hear him smirking even though that’s not even a thing, but a second later, I don’t even care. I feel the tease of his breath first, then his tongue as it sweeps over me. It sends a sudden jolt through me, then a long, low moan that tightens my hold on him. He kisses and swirls and teases until I’m coming apart, my hands in his hair. My fingers dig into his shoulders as I vent my release into the cabin.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, kissing his way back up my body until he lies next to me. I turn toward him, my shirt still caught up around my upper chest. He reaches out a hand to bring the hem down, then pulls the sheet up from the foot of the bed to cover my lower half. “I swear, Tessa.” He locks eyes with me. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make me worthy of you again.”

I want to tell him that was a nice start, but I know that’s just the hormones talking. There’s far more to relationships than physical connection.

“Sloan?”

“Yeah.”

“I missed you, too.”

His jaw hardens as he stares at me. A mixture of shame and anger comes over his face.

I prop myself up on my elbow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Daddy’s Girl. Nothing at all.”

I look away at his nickname. Today, right now, it’s bothering me. I barely want to be associated with that man at the moment.

“We all make mistakes,” Sloan says.

Some more than others. “Are you going to tell the others what we just did?” I ask.

He smirks. “Hmm. It’s tempting. But I think I’ll keep this one to myself. I don’t want you to feel like one of those other girls, Tessa. You’re far more special.”

He lies down, then pulls my head onto his chest. My head raises and lowers with each of his breaths. I know we shouldn’t be lying here any longer. I’m so tired, it’s likely I’ll just fall asleep and then what will happen if we get found out in the morning?

Even after that all goes through my head, I put my arm around him. His other hand comes up rests on my side. “Sweet dreams, Tess.”

I think I murmur the same, but I’m taken away by sleep, drifting off into a land where I only have to think about what just happened with Sloan, and not about the consequences or the aftermath.

The dream world is a nice respite from real life. It’s the reason why I have so many aspirations in the first place.

22

The last thing I want to do is see my dad this morning, but he shows up right outside the main building, intercepting me as I’m about to walk into breakfast by myself. Sloan did get up in the middle of the night to go back to his cabin, but not before kissing me on the forehead. Not even the memory of that can keep my lips from scowling as I follow my dad to his car parked in the lot.

I tap my fingers over my thighs as he drives us away from camp. I have no idea where he’s taking me, and he’s quiet for now. Things will blow up, I’m sure. This is like the calm before the storm. We drive to the little town closest to Camp Holly. It’s basically just one intersection with a row of businesses all connected together. You know the kind, the ones that actually still have a barber, a furniture repair shop, and a candy store. It’s exactly like I remember it from last year, and I’m sure the elderly people in the town can say the same thing dating back to when they were young children. It’s kind of neat to see something that’s frozen in time.

He pulls over to the side of the road and tells me to wait in the car. He’s going into the doughnut shop he knows I like. I look away. Watching him in there smiling and laughing with the owner just reminds me of the time when he used to do these things for me because he actually cared, not because he was trying to soften me up, so I’ll forgive him.

Stepping outside with a brown paper bag, he goes around to his side of the car and gets in, placing the bag on the console between us. I can smell the sugary goodness from here. He drives out back toward the small lake, but instead of going to camp, he stops at a dock slip. Putting the car in park, he picks out my doughnut and hands it to me. While we eat, we’re silent. I’m watching the geese as they pad next to the shore, then of course, there’s the birds that are diving into the ripples right out in the middle of the lake trying to catch their food.

“Pumpkin,” my dad says to start off what is hopefully him telling me what an asshole he’s been. I shove the last of the doughnut in my mouth and then turn toward him. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, angled toward me, his knee practically resting on the center console. My dad looks humongous in most vehicles and this isn’t any different. It’s always odd to see him squished in something like this. When he’s outside, he doesn’t look nearly as big as he does when he’s surrounded by other things, including people. “I’m sorry you saw that yesterday.”

I nod, waiting for him to go on. I want to ask him right away how his talk with Ryan went, but I deserve to get the same talk, so I practically bite my tongue and wait for him to get this out.

“I’m sorry anyone had to see it. You were right about some things. I should have told your mom about Leslie and me, and I definitely should have told you about Leslie and me. It’s a sorry excuse, but I knew you had so many other things to worry about that I didn’t want you to have to think about one more thing.”

“I was already thinking about it, Dad. You just up and left Mom, and I know your relationship is your relationship, but I’m your child, so I’m automatically involved.” I don’t want Mom to sound like a desperate woman, so I leave out all the times I heard her crying and how she walked around like she was a zombie. He doesn’t need to know all the things I saw that made me more involved than he thought.

---