First Tag cockblocks, now West’s actual cock is blocking me. Cursed. And cursed.
A whoosh of air breezes past my lips. “I hate you, moon.”
7
Calder
She’s staring at the moon—berating it. Who does that? It’s weird. But I haven’t stopped watching her since she began because it’s equally as mesmerizing.
From the rock I’m seated at, I watch her dramatic little moment unfold, lifting my cigarette to my lips, readied to light it as she whispers.
“I hate you, moon.”
My chest shakes, a laugh trying to break free as the lighter clicks. All that wild red hair swings in my direction as I give an exhaled, “Don’t stop on my account.”
Her eyes grow wide. She’s frozen in place but only for a millisecond until a bloodcurdling scream explodes from between her lips.
“Whoa,” I rumble, launching from my rock, tossing my smoke to the ground as I do. “What the fuck are you screaming for?”
She’s moving backward, obviously scared. So I nab the belt loop of her jeans as she shrieks, swatting at my hands, and yank her flush to my body, wrapping her in one arm, the other slapping over her mouth.
“Chill out.”
Her squeal is muffled under my palm as she tries to squirm, eyes squeezed shut. But she can’t move. I’m three times her size, and I’ve got at least a hundred pounds on her. There’s no escaping.
“Open your eyes. It’s okay.”
I shake my head as she does, feeling her chest rising and falling against me. Those big green doe eyes pierce into mine. She’s looking at me the same way she did the other day. It’s unnerving, like I can almost feel her thoughts. Because they feel like mine.
Who are you?
Her breathing slows as I blink, following the brown speckled pattern over her nose. There’s just enough light for me to see them.
Waves crash onto the shore, bringing a breeze with it, making a few strands of her hair blow over my hand, replacing the smell of my cigarette with something I can’t place—grapefruit, maybe?
She clears her throat, and my brows draw together. Fuck. My hand’s still over her mouth.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m gonna let you go. But no more screaming. All right? I have no interest in fucking up a bunch of preppy assholes attempting to protect you from nothing. Cool?”
I feel her smile against my palm.
“Nod if you understand.”
She does, slowly, then picks up speed. My hand peels away, and I watch as she licks her lips and takes a deep breath. Lips that look like—fuck me, her mouth is built for kissing. She draws in her bottom lip between her teeth, letting her gorgeous eyes peek up at me from under the blackest lashes.
Goddamn.
I brush away the hair that got caught up on her face, still staring down, our breaths matching in rhythm.
“Sorry,” she whispers, “You scared me.”
“It’s my fault. But you and the moon were having a deep one-on-one, so I was trying not to interrupt.”
She blushes, and my chest hollows, lips parting. That’s a good color on her. Absentmindedly, she begins playing with the strings on my hoodie, staring at my chest.
“Oh my God. It’s so embarrassing.”
I swallow hard, fingertips curling into her back, suddenly realizing that I’ve still got my arm around her.
“Uh…it’s not.” I let her go, stepping back but only a small step. “What are you doing out here anyway? Cuz I know it’s not to smoke.”
Her cheeks stain red again, and this time I want to reach out to see if her skin is hot too.
“Weren’t you listening?” She laughs, playing with the ends of her long locks, looking up at me from between those long-ass lashes.
I lick my lips, trying to hide my smirk. “I was, but I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“Oh my God, stop. You were giving me my dignity.” Her eyes roll with a grin. “Joke’s on you. I have none anymore.”
She’s teasing, so I do too.
“All right, then tell me who you’re meeting out here so I can bury him befo—”
She cuts me off with her fingers against my lips. “Shh.” She shakes her head.
The smile on her face makes me do the same. We’re locked on each other, underneath a blanket of stars, nestled in the darkest sky. Her hand stays against my lips as I exhale, warmth enveloping her fingers. Fuck, I can’t stop looking at her. It’s like every piece of her calls to me. Like magnets.
I want to tug her closer—die in that fucking grapefruit scent as I run my nose up her neck. My eyes drift down her body. One I know is innocent, but looks are deceiving because the way that she weaponizes shyness should be illegal.
I almost feel guilty over the defiling thoughts that are doing their worst inside my head.
Before I think twice, not that I’ve ever been guilty of that, my tongue slowly runs up the pad of her finger. And she fucking shivers, making me feel drunk on her.
Her hand draws back, lips parted by a quiet gasp. But I encircle her wrist, a half-smile pointed in her direction.
“Tell me your name.”
8
Sutton
My entire body’s short-circuiting, still feeling the slickness of his tongue over my fingertips.
“Huh?”
Calder’s grin peeks out as I open my mouth, realizing what he’s asked, but nothing comes out. Hmm, do I give you my name? On this night…with this moon?
I whip around, before glancing over my shoulder as I start walking away. There’s amusement in Calder’s make-me-quiver kind of deep voice as he follows behind.
“Hey. Hold up. Tell me your name. Don’t do me dirty like that…” He chuckles. “What would the moon think?”
I laugh, looking back at him again, as we near the porn tent, before spinning to face him.
“The moon is a wicked bitch. She curses everything.”
He stops in front of me, biting his lip, making butterflies lose their minds in my belly. My hand comes to my stomach, hoping to calm them as I feel a strand of my hair being gently tugged.
My smile matches his. Or his matches mine. I can’t tell. It’s like we’re feeling everything at the same time, in this exact moment, with identical depth.
He bends down, catching my eyes that start to drop as I lose myself to that thought.
“Then I guess I’ll have to ask you again in the daylight. Wouldn’t want us cursed.”
God, he has the smoothest lips. They look soft, as if they’d glide over mine like satin. Why doesn’t anyone have lips like this at Burr? My question jumps out before I can stop it.
“Do you go to Eastside?”
“No.”
His head tilts left as he raises his hand to the base of my neck, weaving his fingers through my hair, massaging while he watches.
“So, you’re older, then?”
Oh my God. Am I panting?
He nods, his grip becoming firmer as he forces my chin up. My breath is useless because it’s barely there anymore.
“How much older?”
Calder’s tongue drags over his lips as he stares at mine. Oh, sweet Jesus, I want that in my mouth.