I’m dumbfounded.
So shocked I don’t think to bring my hand to my face to wipe away the mascara gunk until he’s standing on the other side of the fire, staring down at me with an angry-concerned expression.
Chapter Five
Maddie
As soon as our eyes meet, a jolt of electricity leaps between us and all the memories of last night come rushing back, making my cheeks heat and my body ache in places that feel more pleasantly well-used than they have in years.
Until this moment, a part of me was convinced last night was a dream, but now there’s no denying it actually happened.
I really had wild and crazy sex with Jamison.
And now I have to deal with the aftermath of my whiskey-fueled antics.
“Can we talk?” he asks, a muscle leaping in his tight jaw.
“Um, yeah, sure.” I bolt up from my chair, nearly spilling coffee all over myself in my haste to set it on the folding table and get out of my friends’ earshot before Jamison confesses that last night was a mistake he won’t be repeating.
It’s going to be hard enough to hear it, let alone have witnesses to my shame.
Piper and Dawn exchange loaded looks, but I don’t make eye contact as I hurry past them onto the path.
I lead Jamison farther from our site, past the bathrooms and on toward the park exit, wiping the black from beneath my eyes as I walk, doing my best to ignore my shaking hands and the strangled feeling clutching at my throat. I have no one to blame for this disaster but myself.
Yes, I was drunk last night, but not that drunk. I knew what I was doing when I stripped naked and ran into the ocean. I deliberately seduced one of my best friends and now I deserve whatever misery comes next.
When we’re far enough from the campground that the only sounds are the chirping of morning birds and the gentle rustle of the wind ruffling the leaves, I ball my hands into fists, lift my chin, and turn to face Jamison, determined not to let him see how much it’s going to hurt when he says last night was a mistake.
“What’s going on?” He crosses his arms, his posture every bit as defensive as mine. “Why did you leave without saying good-bye?”
I frown at the unexpected question. “What?”
“Are you mad? Do you think I took advantage, or something?” he asks, the muscle in his jaw twitching again. “Because I swear I thought you were sober enough to know what you wanted. I wouldn’t have done anything if I didn’t think—”
“No, no.” I shake my head, embarrassment making my cheeks heat. “You didn’t take advantage. I… I knew what I was doing.”
“Then are you pissed that I didn’t bring you back to your tent last night? Is that it?” he demands. “Or were you just planning to spend the night with me and then run off this morning and pretend like nothing happened?”
My lips part, but Jamison presses on before I can respond.
“Because that’s not going to work, Maddie.” He steps closer, pinning me with a gaze every bit as intense and focused as the attention he devoted to my body last night. “What happened between us isn’t the kind of thing you walk away from, and you know it.”
My eyes flare wider.
This isn’t what I was expecting.
So far from it, in fact, that I can’t think of a thing to say.
“I’ve slept with my share of women and I know you said you had your glory days in Paris, or whatever, but…” He trails off, running a hand through his mussed hair as he lets out a long breath. “Shit, I’m fucking nervous, and I’m never nervous. That says something right there, right?”
I shrug, my brain still having trouble connecting the dots. “So, what are you saying? Exactly?”
“I’m saying I don’t want this to be a one-night thing,” he says, an almost shy note in his voice that’s as surprising as his words.
“So we should…” I trail off, lifting a shoulder, still thrown by this odd turn of events.
“We should give this a shot,” he says. “See where it goes.”
“You mean like…date?” I ask with a roll of my eyes and a laugh. I mean, he’s Jamison. He doesn’t date. He wham-bam-thank-you-ma’ams and leaves women stunned and confused in the remains of his smolder-web.
“You say that like it’s ridiculous,” he says. “I know you date. I saw you out with that creep from the hardware store.”
“Tom isn’t a creep.”
“He collects toy trains.” Jamison lifts a wry brow. “Anyone older than ten who collects trains is automatically a creep.”
I nod, seeing his point. “Okay, he’s a creep, but at least he’s not practically my brother.”
Jamison scowls. “Neither am I. Jesus, Maddie,” he says, a wounded note in his voice that makes me feel like an insensitive jerk, something I’ve never been accused of being in my entire life.
I’m just not prepared for this. I never imagined Jamison would be the kind to get attached after a one-night stand, especially not a one-night stand with a woman who’s the opposite of his usual type.
I’ve rarely seen him with a woman who isn’t blond, tan, and about as big around as my right thigh. I think I have a nice figure, but before last night I would have bet good money Jamison wasn’t into women with dress sizes in the double digits.
“I didn’t mean that in an insulting way,” I say, my fingers tangling nervously together. “I mean our families and lives are already so entwined. Things could get complicated between us. Like, really quickly. You should have been off-limits. I should have known better, even after five shots of whiskey.”
He shrugs. “So, maybe things get complicated? So what? Why not have a good time together and worry about things getting uncomfortable when—or if—it happens.”
“I think it’s a question of when, not if,” I say gently. “I mean, we’ll stop dating. Eventually. And after we do, we’ll still have to see each other at family events and holidays and around town and things will be…weird. If we date, we’ll never have that easy, friendly relationship we used to have ever again.”
“We’re never going to have that again anyway, Mad.” Jamison’s eyes meet mine, sending a shiver of awareness through me as his smolder does its wicked work. “I’m never going to be able to look at you again without thinking about you naked in the ocean last night.”
“Never is a long time,” I say, my heart racing as he steps closer and he reaches out, his arm circling my waist.
“It is,” he agrees. “But fucking you bare, feeling how wet you were for me, hearing you call my name as you came all over my cock isn’t something I’m ever going to forget.”
I gulp air, embarrassment and hunger warring inside me. “Don’t. Please. Dirty talk isn’t playing fair. We can’t do this.”
“Why not? Give me one good reason.” His arm tightens, crushing me against his chest, sending currents of arousal coursing through me from head to toe, making my pussy ache all over again. I had him four times last night, and I’m still dying for more.
It doesn’t bode well for quitting him cold turkey, but I have to try.