Page 69 of No One But Us

“The fuck you are,” says James.

“Dude, chill. I already moved my stuff. I’ll sleep on the floor. Or do you want me to sleep with Elle and Ginny instead?”

James’ jaw grinds. “How about if neither thing happens and your friends stay at a fucking hotel instead?”

“Come on, man. It’s just two days. They don’t have money for a hotel,” Max pleads.

James glances at me for just a second, his face reflecting the misery on my own. The situation isn’t as bad as I imagined it might be. It’s worse.

* * *

“You shouldn’t have forced me to sleep with you,” James grumbles quietly behind me while we’re at work.

We haven’t been alone once in nearly three days. When I go to the deck with my coffee in the morning, several people are already there. When James and I walk into town, someone decides to come with us. We think we’ve managed to escape by ourselves to the beach, and we don’t even have our towels down before they are there too, cheerfully lying down next to us. If Max had hired a crew to keep us apart, they couldn’t have done a better job. And then, just as we think they’re leaving, someone’s van won’t start, and two days turns into three.

“Did you really just say I ‘forced’ you?” I gasp, rounding on him, but he’s grinning.

“Maybe forced is a strong word,” he says, pulling me behind the freezer with his hands at my hips. His lips find mine, and he tugs at the bottom one with his teeth. “But this has been the longest, hardest three days of my life, and I need someone to blame.”

“Blame Max and his friends,” I breathe as he pushes me back against the counter.

“I am going to do such bad things to you once they’re out of here,” he promises.

His kiss is harder this time, his hands roaming, finding the hem of my shirt and sliding beneath it. He could convince me to do about anything right now.

“This is the first time I’ve ever wished they made us wear skirts.” I sigh.

He groans. “Thanks for that visual, Elle. I was already painfully hard.”

* * *

The next day we say our goodbyes to Max’s friends as we leave for work. Neither of us is capable of appearing sad to see them go.

James counts down the minutes while we serve drinks.

I make a point of stopping by the bar as often as possible to detail every single thing I plan to do to him tonight.

As it turns out, this wasn’t the greatest idea, because the extra people are all still there when we get home.

“I thought you were leaving,” James snarls to one of the guys when we walk in. He informs us that Max decided to throw a party and convinced them to stay.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” James says once we’re out of earshot. “I’ve had it.”

“They’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

He’s complained about it more than I have, but the past few days have bordered on impossible for me as well. “You don’t have to. Meet me under the deck in two minutes.”

He stills. “Are you serious?”

“They’re making enough noise that we won’t be overheard.”

His smile is so sweet that my heart aches with it. “You’re the perfect...” He stops himself. “You’re perfect.”

I change into a skirt and run around the side of the house to wait under the deck for him, taut with anticipation. He says nothing as he searches for me in the darkness, but in a second flat, his hands thread through my hair and he is pushing me against the siding. And then there is only his weight and his hands and his scent and his tongue. My heart beats so hard in my ears that I no longer hear the noise above us. I wrap a leg around his thigh and pull him closer, feeling that spasm in my stomach when he grows hard against me.

“It feels like weeks,” he says hoarsely. His hand snakes between us, running over the outside of my thong. He groans when he feels how ready I am, and in an instant he’s unzipping his shorts and pushing the satin to the side. I’m bracing for it, barely restraining a whimper of impatience as I wait. “God I’m not gonna last long,” he says as he presses against me.