Bet Me Something (Something Series Book 3) (16 page)

He looked
apologetic, and then stroked my slit with the vibrator. “Duly noted. You’re
soaked.”

“The directions
said I might need lube,” I offered up lamely.

“Not any more
you don’t.”

“Oh—oh, wow.” I
felt him put it inside me slowly. The invasion was unlike anything I’d ever
felt before even if it wasn’t all that deep. I realized he was watching my face
now.

“Tell me how it
feels.”

“I—it feels
good,” I stuttered.

“You’re stunning
on display like this.”

“Do you wish it
was you inside of me instead?” I had to ask and watched him shudder.

“We can’t. I
have to have some stopping point with you.”

“Why?”

He heaved a sigh.
“Because you’re too important, and the surest way I’ll fuck things up is to
have sex with you.”

“But you wish
you could?”

He nodded,
closing his eyes. “Vaginal orgasm will be tough with this shape of vibrator.
They have better ones designed to hit your G-spot.”

I flushed with
pleasure as I felt him move the device in and out.

 “Christ. I need
to taste you again. Put it in while I suck on you. We’ll combine the two.”

I pulled my legs
up, allowing more access. Watching as he bent down between my thighs, I felt a
rush of heat course through my body with the dual sensation.

“I can’t get
enough of this. Christ.”

The orgasm this
time around hit me like a freight train. Bright lights danced in the back of my
head while my body convulsed uncontrollably. I barely registered he’d turned
the device off and was now raining kisses over my stomach, then up to my
breasts.

“I’m a fan of
the vibrator combo.”

He chuckled.
“There are a lot of options when it comes to that.”

“Mm, I’m kind of
thinking double penetration might be fun,” I quipped.

His face looked
pained. “You can’t say shit like that to me.”

“Why not? You’re
the one denying yourself, not me.”

He stood up,
shifting himself. “Just when I thought I couldn’t get any harder.”

I licked my
lips. “I could, ah, return the favor.”

He immediately
appeared torn. “Have you ever?”

I didn’t wish to
highlight my inexperience and, technically, I wasn’t lying. “The one time
didn’t go very well. Would be nice if I had someone who’d tell me what’s good
and what isn’t.”

“You want to
practice on me?” His voice was pure raw sex.

I nodded,
mesmerized when he pulled down his boxers. I could only stare. A hard male
penis was a sight indeed. My only other reference point had been from some
cheesy seventies video my freshman roommate had found in her aunt’s attic. We
had drunk Boons Farm Strawberry Hill wine, sung along to the music, and then
fallen into a fit of giggles at the copious amount of pubic hair that seemed to
be porn-acceptable back then. I realized he’d been talking as I’d drifted.

“Blow jobs are
all about having enough saliva, suction, and using your hands,” he offered as
my first lesson.

My gaze flicked
up to his and then down again, focusing on where he took his cock in hand. The vision
of him touching himself sent a shiver through me. Per usual, I said what was on
my mind. “Would you fit inside of me? You look bigger than I’m used to.” Not
only was he long, he was thick, too.

His eyes floated
closed. “We aren’t going to find out, but yes. If we prepped you, it would
fit.”

“Prepped?”

“No more of this
conversation. I’m already crossing a line I didn’t think I would.”

I reached for
his hand, pulling him over. “Lie down, please.”

He complied,
propping his torso up with pillows. “Wait. You need to get dressed first. No
exposed lower half.”

I giggled.
“Seriously?”

“Yes. I told
you, we’re not having sex.” He got up and helped me put my T-shirt back on and
then gathered my panties off the floor.

After dressing
me quickly, he assumed the position on the bed.

“Which angle
works best? Should I kneel between your legs or…” I wasn’t sure where to begin.

“Kneeling is
fine,” he said tightly.

I took a hold of
him. “It’s so soft.”

“Not exactly a
compliment at this moment.” He looked like he was having trouble breathing.

“I meant your
skin; it’s like velvet.” I watched him wince. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

“Then why do you
look as though you’re in pain?”

“Because you’re
killing me here.”

I smirked. “Then
I guess I should get on with it. Tell me if I suck at it. Pun totally
intended.”

Bending my head
down, I wasted no time in licking him from base to crown. My tongue flicked at
the drop of liquid appearing at his tip, allowing me the first taste of him. It
immediately made me want more.

“Christ, Kenz—I
didn’t mean to sound like a dick—pun totally intended, too—Oh hell—”

I took him
completely into my mouth, enjoying the control I had over him in this moment.
Running my tongue down his entire length, I ensured he was coated with my
saliva and then sucked him slowly.

“Just like that.
Put your hand at the bottom.” He demonstrated how with his fist curling around
his base, and I followed suit. Using both my mouth and my hand, I found a
rhythm, hollowing my cheeks, so I could take him all the way to the back of my
throat.

“That’s it.”

I wished I had
my casted hand free but did the best I could with the one, enjoying his
expression of sheer lust.

“Suck it faster.
Oh, sweet Jesus.”

I increased my
cadence and felt his hips start to arch up. His thighs tensed with his breaths
coming out rapid fire. “I’m going to come, Kenz.”

I had no idea if
he was preparing me or merely vocalizing his impending orgasm.

“You need to
stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.”

I didn’t slow
down, opting to satisfy my curiosity instead. When the thick liquid hit the
back of my throat, I swallowed it all down, milking him completely dry as he
finished in my mouth. The salty taste wasn’t unpleasant. Besides, watching his
eyes practically roll back in his head with pleasure was definitely worth the
effort.

“What the hell
was the terrible experience?” He was looking at me with a mixture of residual
desire and surprise.

“Is that your
douche bag way of complimenting me?”

He chuckled. “I
didn’t mean anything by it, except that you definitely get to skip a grade or
two with your lesson, and the only douche bag is the one who made you have a
bad first time.”

I giggled and
lay down on him, enjoying the feel of his skin beneath my face. The only thing
better would have been if I had no clothes on, either.

He immediately
stiffened. “No, no, we aren’t doing any cuddling with one of us naked.” He
practically jumped out of the bed.

“Hmm, good. I’m
tired.”

He laughed,
putting on his boxers. “So, we’re, uh, cool after this?”

I rolled my
eyes. “You’re such a dude. Yeah, we’re cool.”

“And you agree
this is a one-time deal?”

“Huh, I don’t
remember agreeing to that.”

“Kenz—”

“Hey, don’t you
‘Kenz’ me. You came in here denying my vibrator the pleasure of my first
orgasm, mister, and now you’re going to start dictating rules?”

He acted as
though he wanted to say something but instead concentrated on getting dressed.
“Fine, you don’t need to agree because it can’t happen again.”

“Then don’t
barge in the next time you hear a buzzing sound, and we’ll be good. Come to
think of it, it’ll be easier once I’m back in my own place.” I pulled up my
covers and lay on my side, pretending not to be the least bit affected by what
had just happened or his panicked reaction.

He sighed, lay
on the bed, and then curled up facing me, cupping my face. Something passed
over his eyes, but quickly disappeared. “Don’t move out. Not yet.”

“Why do you crawl
into bed with me every night?” If he was asking me to stay, then I deserved an
answer to this mystery because, for a guy who didn’t seem to want a repeat
performance, he was throwing mixed signals like a mad man.

He was quiet for
the longest time and then spoke in a whisper. “Because I almost lost you.”

Of all the
things he could have said, he picked the sucker punch. I expelled a breath and
realized I was in serious trouble when it came to protecting my heart from this
man. As if he didn’t have a majority share already, he was inching in to steal
the entire thing.

He buried his
face in the crook of my neck with his breath coming out unsteadily. “When I
think about the car hitting you and then lying in the hospital bed trying to
get a hold of me—I about lose it and need to hold you close.”

Pulling back, I
framed his face with my hands, glimpsing the first raw emotion I’d ever
witnessed from him. “If you feel that way, why can’t we—?”

He put a finger
to my lips. “Because I meant what I said in the hospital. You deserve better.”
He proceeded to kiss me softly and then fell asleep next to me the same way he
did every night.

It had been
almost three weeks since our night of the vibrator takeover with,
unfortunately, no repeat performance. Colby had been spending a lot more time
in the office during the day, which he insisted was coincidence and not because
he was purposefully trying to avoid me. I wanted to believe that, given the
days he’d taken off following my accident, he was most likely making up for the
lost time.

Currently, he
was in Cabo San Lucas for a hotel crisis his brother had needed him to take
care of. He’d only been away two nights, but I found myself missing his
presence in the bed. That scenario hadn’t changed, and since it felt amazing to
be wrapped up in his arms each night, I never did bring it up again.

Yeah, operation
Get-Over-Colby-Singer was a big, fat failure. If anything, I was more
determined than ever to figure out why he was so convinced I deserved better.
Was it because I was Brian’s sister? Or was it because of Colby’s reputation
with women in general? Something told me it was probably a little of both.

Thursday morning
brought great news in the form of cast removal for my wrist. My ankle wasn’t as
lucky as the break was more severe, but at least I traded up into a removable
boot, which meant no more plastic bags while showering. Matter of fact, after a
quick trip to get a manicure and wax, courtesy of the spa certificate Sasha
sent me to commemorate the occasion, the very first thing I did when I arrived
back at the house was take the longest shower in history. It was glorious.

Colby texted me
later that afternoon.
“Let’s celebrate you getting your casts off tonight
with dinner. You did get them removed right? I’ll be home about six o’clock.”

I was anxious to
see and talk to him. Aside from some text messages to check in on me, I hadn’t
actually had a conversation with him and missed the sound of his voice.

“What am I
wearing for this celebration?”

“BRAT! Did you
get the casts off or not?”

“Yes, the wrist
is off permanently, but I still have to wear a soft boot on my foot. Prepare
yourself, as my right arm will be naked.”

“How does it
feel?”

“A little stiff,
but good, all things considering.”

“That’s what she
said.”

I laughed.
“Rolling
my eyes. I’m supposed to work on my grip strength. Any ideas?”

And now we both
had the texting maturity of teenage boys.

“You’re a bad
girl.”

“Who needs to be
punished?”

“You have no
idea. Now behave.”

“Hmm, you’re no fun.
Now what am I wearing: jeans, a dress, panties?”
I knew I was
playing with fire, but damn, I missed flirting with him.

“A cocktail
dress with granny panties.”

“You got it.”

“That was too
easy.”

“That’s what he
said. See you when you get home.”

“See you then.”

***

I was sitting
cross-legged on his bed, so engrossed in playing my guitar for the first time
in weeks, that I didn’t hear him come in. I was rusty and my fingers were stiff,
so I went slowly, singing a stripped-down version of Adele’s “Set Fire to the
Rain.”

At the end of
the first chorus, I looked up to see Colby leaned against the doorframe,
unapologetically eavesdropping. My voice stuck in my throat at being caught in
so vulnerable a position. Meanwhile, he stood there looking gorgeous in his
tailored suit, which outlined his delicious body.

His gaze
traveled over me from head to toe and then rested on my right hand. “You’re,
uh, wrist looks good.”

I cocked my head
to the side, smiling at him. “You really need to work on your game with a line
like that.”

He chuckled. “I
didn’t intend to interrupt. That was beautiful.”

His compliment
meant a lot. “Thanks. You’re home early.” I glanced at the clock, having
thought I had another hour until he’d arrive home. “I’ll get changed.” I got up
from the bed, realizing his eyes were still on me.

“Yeah. Um, take
your time.” He seemed to break out of his trance and moved out of the room.

Once I was
ready, I found him in the living room. He smiled, and I took his offered arm,
letting him lead me out to the car. It was the first time in weeks I could walk
without a crutch.

“So, how does it
feel?”

“Amazing. I came
back here and took an absurdly long shower, simply because I could do it
without having to put plastic bags around everything and was able to use both
hands while washing my hair.”

He laughed,
helping me into the car and, once I was settled, pulling out of the driveway
and onto the street. “When do you start occupational therapy?”

“Day after
tomorrow. I scheduled it at a place next door to the Children’s Hospital, as I
started volunteering there. It’s something to do with my time this summer until
I have to move home.”

He frowned. “If
you move home.”

“Right. If I
move home.” At this point, I was feeling less defeated and more like myself.
However, I’d need to start looking for a job soon if I wanted to make staying here
remotely possible.

During dinner at
a local seafood restaurant, we talked nonstop about his hotel business in Cabo
and my doctors’ appointments then slipped into small talk. Once we got back
into his car, he glanced over and grinned. “Are you up for attending a party?”

“What kind of
party?”

“Hollywood type.
You’ve been itching to get out of the house. Plus, there’s someone I want you
to meet there.”

“Sounds
intriguing. Who is it?”

He shook his
head. “It’s a surprise. So, my car service dropped you at a spa today after
your appointment. Did you have a good time?”

“If you could
call a bikini wax a good time. But I guess the purpose of one is to ensure a
good time later, not while getting one. Sort of gives new definition to the
whole ‘no pain, no gain’ concept.”

“Uh. Right.”

An awkward
silence followed. Then we both started talking at once and then stopped.

I giggled,
watching his eyes glance over.

“What’s so
funny?” he asked.

“The irony, I
suppose.”

He arched a
brow. “Do tell.”

He exuded sex
appeal while driving the car, with his tie slightly loose and his button-down
shirt rolled up to his elbows showing the strength of his forearms. Now it was
time to try to display some of my own.

“The irony is
that talking about a bikini wax is now uncomfortable when three weeks ago there
was nothing awkward about tasting myself on your lips, having you make me come
for the first time, or taking you to the back of my throat.”

I was rewarded
with the sharp intake of his breath and his pained expression. When his eyes
finally focused on me, they were an incredibly dark green color. “You can’t say
shit like that to me.” His voice sounded strained.

I shrugged.
“See, you’re proving my point. I used to be able to tell you anything.” My eyes
wandered down as he adjusted himself with one hand. Holy shit, had I made him
hard? “Are you—?”

“Stop. We can’t
have this conversation. I told you no repeats.”

Some girls might
want to cry, some might prefer to shout, however I needed a minute to examine
my emotions before doing either of those things. He might continue to fight it,
but at least he wasn’t unaffected by me.

“What are you
thinking about?” he asked after the next ten minutes of silence.

“I’m
contemplating whether or not to tell anyone where to locate your body after I
kill you.”

He smirked.
“There would be a lot of disappointed women at the funeral.”

I rolled my
eyes. “Hm, I may be willing to risk it. How long are we staying at the party?”

“Not long. Why?
Do you have a hot date later?”

It annoyed me
he’d assume I wouldn’t, so I decided to be bratty. “Maybe I do.”

He lifted a
brow. “You’re double-booking me?”

I grinned,
wondering if any woman had ever done that to him. “Not yet, but the night’s
still young.”

***

Once Colby
pulled into the gated community in front of a massive compound resembling a
house, we were met by a valet. I stepped out of the car and turned towards him.
“Who lives here?”

“Clive Shaeffer.
He’s a director.”

“Huh, he did
that big alien flick a couple of months ago, right?”

“Yeah. That big
alien flick was called
Invasion
, and he’s done thirteen other movies before
that.”

“Oh, busy guy,
then.”

He took my hand
and laughed. “You could say that.”

I enjoyed the
feel of entwined fingers, noticing that he didn’t let go until we got to the
front door.

He turned toward
me suddenly. “There are a lot of people in the industry at this thing. So
you’re my friend’s younger sister from back home.”

His expression
was very serious, and I couldn’t help but mess with him. “Oh, goodie. I’m used
to playing that role. Don’t you worry. I won’t let anyone know that only three
weeks ago you had your face buried in my pus—”

His eyes widened
as he put a finger to my lips to shush me while fighting his grin. The thing about
Colby was he could always appreciate my humor, but when his thumb stroked my
bottom lip, and he swallowed hard, the gesture turned sexual in a hurry. The
air around us thickened, charged with a sensual energy that made it hard to
remember the world was more than just the two of us standing here. That is,
until we both turned towards the annoyingly high voice interrupting the moment
like ice water on a fire.

“Oh, my God.
Colby Singer, is that you?”

The woman behind
the words came from a car that had just pulled up.

Colby tensed up
immediately with a curse under his breath.

“Oh, my Lord, it
is you.” The bubbly blonde squeaked, going in for the full body hug—or tackle—depending
on your perspective. It took a minute, but after she finally peeled herself off
of him, her scrutiny fell on me. “Who’s this?”

I quirked a brow
when Colby moved towards me, slinging his arm around my shoulders. Oh, no, he
didn’t. He wasn’t using me as a shield for bleach blonde Malibu Barbie after
his
no repeats
,
act like my friend’s little sister
speeches
earlier, so I beat him to the introduction. “Hi, I’m McKenzie. Colby is my big
brother’s good friend, and he was nice enough to bring me to a real-life
Hollywood party. You must be Chelsea?”

Colby covered
his laugh with a cough, his eyes twinkling with humor.

Her nose
crinkled up, but strangely her forehead didn’t move with it. Botox at
twenty-something. Sheesh.

“I’m Holli with
an
I
.”

Even though she
looked relieved that I wasn’t
with him,
she still had a voice that was
like nails on a chalkboard, something I wasn’t going to suffer through a minute
longer than I had to.

“Oh, that’s
right. Guess I should leave you two to catch up then.” I leaned in towards her,
whispering loud enough for him to hear. “I don’t want to cramp his style, being
the friend’s little sister.”

Her veneer smile
returned, but Colby wasn’t shaken off that easily. “Sorry, Holli, I’ll find you
later as I need for Kenzie to meet someone first.”

She gave a
practiced pout. “You promise?”

“Uh, sure, I’ll
do my best.” He led me away and in through the front door before she could
respond.

 We went by the
bar first, where he grabbed two beers, handing me one before he took a long
pull on his.

Scanning the
room, I noticed there was no shortage of beautiful people everywhere. “How hard
will you try to find her later?”

He frowned. “Not
very. And no, I haven’t had sex with her, despite her best attempts.”

I thought it
curious he’d share that tidbit. “Good for you. Did you, uh, want to mingle?”

He nodded,
scanning the room and seemingly taking inventory of the guests. “Yep. Come on
this way.”

A few people
appeared to recognize Colby as we navigated through the crowded room, and it
became clear he was comfortable in this type of setting. When we stopped in
front of a group of gentlemen, I immediately recognized Max Tambor from his
online profile as the award-winning, not-quite-meant-to-be mentor for my
internship. He was in his mid-fifties and could be an Ed Harris doppelganger.
He stood upon seeing us approach.

“Colby, nice to
see you, man.”