Page 45 of Conception
“Pardon me?”
“Gwen told me something similar, and she was right, just like you are. Except I think she put it something like ‘just because I fit under your arm doesn’t mean that’s where I’m meant to be. I fit under JT’s, too, andhewants me there.’”
“Oof.” I wince.
His shoulders lift in a half shrug. “She wasn’t wrong. Neither are you.”
“So you see? We’re clearly on the same page, and that’s why I was happy to agree to our summer terms. I don’t want anything more than a fling. I’m not thinking beyond this summer. I don’t want to, and neither do you. That’s why this is perfect. For both of us.”
Knox knifes up from the bed and cups my cheek. Dark, penetrating eyes meet mine. His lips curl up into a devilish smile that contradicts the intensity in his gaze. “I meant what I said before. Don’t fall in love with me, Amelia. I don’t have time for it. Neither do you. Now, sex? I’ve got all the time in the world for that.”
His tone is teasing, yet the words still send a burst of pain through my heart. Even after I explained what happened with Robert, something tells me that leaving Knox won’t be quite as easy. I want to squeeze my eyes shut, allow his words to seep into my bones, but if I do that, he’ll see the truth.
That I’m not sure if I can obey.
I remind myself that we have no future. That I don’t even want a future. That I have plans, dreams, and goals that don’t involve a man, especially one whose own future is already mapped out. I tell myself all of these things and only hope I’ll listen.
I reach my hand between us, encircling his growing erection, and pump slowly. “You don’t have to worry about that. The only thing I want from you this summer is this.”
The words have barely left my mouth when Knox flips me over and hovers above me.
“I know our time is limited,” he says. “And it’s fucking selfish. I know it, but I’m going to do it anyway. I’m going to spend this summer ensuring you never forget me. And right now? It’s my fucking turn to mount.”
I’m not going to argue with that.
She’s opening up to me. I’m not sure why I want this or why I even care; yet I still crave getting to know everything about her. What makes her tick. How she became this gorgeous, passionate, sensual woman. What makes her sad or causes the faraway glances she has when she thinks no one is looking.
What does she love? What does she crave? What are her plans for the future?
They’re all things I don’t have a right to know. Not when I’ve set the terms. Not when she’s told me in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t want or see a future beyond now. Not when I’ve agreed and said I want the same, even if the more time I spend with her, the more I realize how different from Gwen she makes me feel.
I tell myself it’s just the newness and intensity of our attraction. The sun, the heat, the sex. All of it’s enough to drive a man wild to the point he’ll make promises he won’t—can’t—keep. So I lock my emotions up, throw away the key, and vow not to find it for at least another five years.
After I make good on my promise of taking her hard and fast and hopefully erasing any remembrance of her ex, we lie cuddled in bed. Though I’m thoroughly spent, I don’t want to go to sleep. Not yet.
“That was…” she breathes out, cool air hitting my chest, where she’s resting her head. “Amazing.”
Pride swells deep. “Plenty more where that came from.” It’s one promise Icankeep. I hope she meant it when she said she could stay in this bed all summer. Now that I’ve had a taste, I want the whole damn buffet.
Nightly.
First thing in the morning.
Mid-day works, too. After all, Starland Vocal Band had it right. Everyone deserves an afternoon delight, and with Amelia? Pretty sure I’ll become addicted to it.
“That’s one hell of a limited-time offer,” she says, and the sudden reminder that this won’t last much longer isn’t a welcome one, even after our heart-to-heart about exes who wanted more than we were willing to offer.
I take her fingers in mine, locking our hands firmly together. “Hey, let’s make a deal. I don’t want to think about the end of the summer, or what happens afterwards, or anything. So let’s forget it. Let’s forget that time is limited and just make the most of what we have. It’ll be easier that way. Especially in case you get tired of me sooner than September.” I’m teasing, but it doesn’t seem to faze her.
Amelia nods, but she doesn’t look at me. “Works for me.” She sits up and holds her palm out to me. “No talking about how little time we have. We’ll just enjoy it. Until you’re annoying.”
Her grin makes me feel a little better, yet her words aren’t quite as enthusiastic as she’s portraying them. I place my hand in hers and we shake. It strangely feels like a business transaction and I don’t fucking like it.
But what can I say? This was my deal, and for both our sakes, we’re better off if we stick to it.
I ignore the warning bells that ring in the back of my mind.
One hot summer and then I’ll walk away.
