Page 70 of Challenge
Her brown eyes are wide and watery. Her cheeks are warm and flush. Every part of her face screams indecision, giving me a tiny ray of hope that perhaps I’m getting through to her after all.
When I move to kiss her again, she shoves me back. Then, without warning, her body climbs on top of me. Her legs wrap around my waist as she straddles me in the chair. With a throaty sigh, she slams her mouth to mine. Her hands greedily slice through every strand of hair on my head, tugging at the length on top. It’s unrestrained and ravishing, and I’m completely overcome. She thrusts her tongue so deep into my mouth that I close my eyes and wince in shock but also in victory.
Her hand reaches between us and frees me from my boxers. I’m rock-hard in her grip as she positions me between her slits and falls down on top of me all in one motion. Squeezing me inside of her, she breaks our kiss and screams out.
My head falls to her chest as I utter her name over and over and over. She clutches me to her and rides me like I didn’t even know she could. Bobbing and bucking, squeezing and releasing. Frenzied, I free one of her breasts and suck so hard on the nipple I’m sure it’ll leave a mark. With every plunge, she takes me deeper inside of her. So deep I can’t hold on much longer. The desperation in her body is alarming. I hold her as tight as I can because, even though I’m inside of her, I still feel like she’s pulling away.
With only a few more thrusts, she screams out my name with her climax and I roar with her, emptying every part of myself inside her. Bare and wet, pulsing and kneading. She cradles me to her like I’m the only thing keeping her upright.
Our breaths are hot and ragged as the rest of the world slowly comes back into focus and we both realise what just happened. She finally pulls away from me, and what I see before me is a statue version of Indie Porter. Gone is the soft, beautiful girl whom I made love to last night, or even the one who climbed on top of me just a few minutes ago. Now she’s hard and cold, without a trace of emotion on her cherubic face.
She stands up, pulling her shirt down and crossing her legs while she looks away from me. “See? That’s what we are.”
My mouth falls open as I tuck my limping dick back inside my boxers. “What?”
She looks at me with a flat expression on her face. “Sex. Fucking. That’s all we are, Camden. That’s all we can ever be.” A spark of determination now invigorates her eyes. “I’m sorry, but you knew what I wanted from you. And you were using me just as much as I was using you.”
“How did I use you?” I croak.
“To get you through this recovery,” she states, her jaw taut with determination. “I’ve turned into a codependency for you. I’m like a painkiller you’re hooked on. I see it all the time with athletes recovering from injuries. You’re using me to make yourself feel better, and you’re turning this into more than it is.”
“Bollocks!” I stand up and move toward her. “You think you’re nothing more than sex to me?”
“No, I think I’m more.” She raises her chin. “I’m your doctor…your surgeon. You are my patient. You said you didn’t want a girlfriend and this was all temporary.”
“I don’t want a girlfriend,” I snap. “I just want you. I want you in ways that supersede labels.” I pause, waiting for my breathing to slow but then growl out, “Stop holding back.”
“I’m not holding back.” Her tone is verging on manic.
“You are! Bloody hell, Indie.” I turn and kick back the chair that mocks me with memories of passion. Ramming my hands through my hair, I grip my neck so hard I can feel the vertebrae. “I’ve done things with you that shows another side of me to you. Let this happen.”
“There isn’t another side to me. Our original arrangement is all I’m capable of, and we’ve already gone way too far.”
“We haven’t gone far enough, Specs.” I move to reach for her face but she pulls away, forcing me to clutch my hands into fists of frustration. She’s like a bloody football I can’t touch.
She’s going to ruin me.
“I thought you could handle this,” she states coolly, and I hear a deafening finality in her voice.
“So did I,” I whisper and huff out a pathetic laugh. How could I have gotten this so wrong? The one time I open myself up and allow myself to care about something more, it all implodes in my face.
“You can’t change the rules on me,” she adds stiffly, barely making eye contact with me despite my close proximity. “I have a plan and I’m sticking to that plan.”
“Oh, your precious fucking cock list,” I huff, leaning in, my voice visceral. “It’s ridiculous, Indie. Your plan is a child’s idea to solve the problem of being a virgin. You don’t fuck like a virgin, so stop acting like one.”
I don’t even feel the impact of what just happened until seconds later when the heat of her strike spreads across my cheek.
“Get out!” she growls, clutching her hand like she hurt herself more than she hurt me. Her face and voice are riddled with so much emotion that I can’t bear to look at her.
My jaw muscle ticks as I walk around the room and grab my clothes up off the floor. Steeling myself to look at her one more time, I pause at the door and say, “The irony of all of this is that you are still the one doing the cutting.”
THE DOOR SLAMS ANDI wait for the tears to come. I wait to feel bad about what I said or did. I expect regret and remorse to consume me. I wonder when what he said will begin to bother me.
Instead…I get nothing.
The fire in my palm turns to ice.
I’m numb.
