Blurring the Lines-nook (10 page)

“We both did.”

“No,” he said, voice soft. “I’ve always seen you, Gretch. Even when I tried not to.
Even when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Burke—”

But he didn’t let me finish my sentence. His mouth was on mine again, and the weight
of his body pressed me into the bed. Any thoughts or words I might’ve had popped out
of existence like soap bubbles. There was no room left for anything but Burke.

His hands roamed over me with sensual confidence, sliding between us and cupping my
breast through the thin fabric of my swimsuit. His thumb teased over my nipple, bringing
it to an aching point. I arched into the touch and moaned, but the sound was stolen
away in the breeze and eaten up by the pounding waves.

He rocked against me, letting me feel the hard length of his erection, and kissed
my neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Everything inside me was on fire in the best
way possible. Blissful. I threaded my fingers in his hair as he moved lower and let
my head sink into the pillows.

He seemed intent on sampling every inch of my skin, and I was absolutely on board
with this plan. I didn’t care that we were out in the open. I didn’t care that anyone
could happen upon us. If someone had set up chairs and sold tickets to the event,
I probably wouldn’t have noticed. I didn’t care about any of it. All that mattered
right then was Burke’s mouth, the scent of the ocean, and the way every one of his
touches brought me closer to some place I wasn’t sure I’d ever been.

He reached for the ties on my bathing suit and slid the knots free, then dragged my
top aside. The breeze kissed my exposed skin, but what raised goose bumps was the
way he devoured me with his eyes. His fingertips glided over my breasts, tracing the
sensitive swells, and he peered up at me, a near-pained expression on his face. “You’re
fucking gorgeous, Gretchen. I can’t even…”

I shivered at the grit in his voice. “You used my full name.”

“That’s because you’re not my friend right now.” He kissed along the curve of my breast
and then ran his tongue over my nipple, hot and wet and maddeningly erotic.

My back bowed, my body aching for more of what he was giving me, and my eyes fell
shut again. “What am I, then?”

His teeth grazed my skin then bit gently into my flesh. “
Mine
.”

The rightness of the word resonated through me like a struck tuning fork. “Yes. Yours.”

“Good,” he said, his fingers hooking in the sides of my bikini bottoms. “Say it again.”

“Yours.”

He dragged the bottoms down my legs and tossed them aside. I raised my head, self-consciousness
trying to rear up, but the rapture on his face didn’t allow for it to gain purchase.
No woman could feel any less than a goddess with a man looking at her the way Burke
was looking at me. And maybe in that moment, my naked body spread across white sheets,
firelight painting patterns on my skin, and the stars shining down on us, I could
be.

He adjusted his position on the bed and hooked a hand under my knee. His fingertips
marked a path down my thigh. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined touching
you like this.”

When his fingertips reached my center, he didn’t touch me where I most needed but
instead lightly traced a blunt fingernail over the lips of my sex. My body clenched
in desperation, a rush of arousal racing through me.

“Please,” I murmured.

“Please, what?” he asked, sin in his tone.

“Touch me. More.”

“No,
cher
.” He moved his hand away and kissed his way down my thigh. “I’ve got a better plan.
I’m going to bury my face between these pretty legs of yours and taste what you need
touched. And I’m not coming up for air until I hear you screaming louder than these
waves.”

Oh, God. Yes. That.
My words didn’t come out, but he wasn’t asking anyhow. He was warning.

Because already, he was draping my legs over his shoulders and lowering himself all
the way down. His gaze never left mine, though. And when he drew the hot flat of his
tongue over my most sensitive flesh, I nearly levitated off the bed. But he held me
firm, keeping me exactly where he wanted and continued on, using his mouth, lips,
and tongue to taste and suck every bit of me. I’d never been privy to this side of
him, had barely allowed myself to speculate how he’d be in bed. But now I knew. Confident,
generous, and dominant.

I liked it. A lot.

I could imagine him taking that all further. I knew he was probably being gentle with
me this first time. But it wasn’t a far stretch to picture him getting rougher, manhandling
me, taking full control. And when my head tilted back and my eyes closed, those were
the images that danced across my mind as he used his mouth to turn me into a writhing,
begging thing beneath him.

“Burke, please.”

But he wasn’t satisfied yet. Because his fingers soon joined in, slicking my arousal
over my entrance and sliding inside me. My body clamped hard around the welcome intrusion
and I groaned.

“That’s right,
cher
,” he said, his voice roughened and his fingers moving inside me in steady, sensual
torture. “You taste so sweet and feel so hot around my fingers. I can’t wait to feel
you around my cock.”

I’d never heard him use that word before. But hell if it didn’t make my stomach flip
and my arousal jump into the red zone. My heart pounded, my body throbbed, and my
breath had gone choppy. I was so close. But my body ached for more—for him.  “Burke.
I don’t want…I need…”

“Not yet, give me this one first. I want to hear you,” he said, then dropped down
and sucked my clit between his lips, while keeping the pace with his fingers.

It was all too much for my starved senses to resist. Sparks shot through me, and all
of my muscles seized as I hovered at the precipice for one bright, fraught moment,
before I tumbled helplessly into the euphoria of it all. His name rode my lips over
and over again, and my hips rocked in time with his mouth and fingers. I couldn’t
hear the water anymore, just my own blood roaring in my ears and my voice calling
for the man giving me this moment.

When I felt like I couldn’t handle anymore, I shifted backward and Burke finally released
me. I collapsed onto the pillows in a panting, sweaty mess. But the man kneeling in
front of me didn’t look like he was planning on giving me a break. My eyes followed
him as he climbed off the bed.

He stood at the foot of it, looking like temptation-soaked sin with his tousled hair
and glossy lips. I wanted to eat him. He reached for his swim trunks. “Still with
me,
cher
?”

“Can’t breathe. But so with you.”

“Good.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the slow drag of his hands pulling down his shorts. But
when he straightened and stroked the thick erection jutting from between his thighs,
every muscle in my body seemed to lurch and coil like I hadn’t just had a rocking
orgasm seconds before.

I needed more. I needed
him
. I wondered if I could ever get enough.

He reached into the pocket of his discarded shorts for a condom and rolled it on without
taking his focus off of me. “Last chance,
cher
. I want you so goddamned much. But we can’t take this back once it’s done.”

The words and the warning in his voice made me frown. “Why would I want to take it
back?”

He gave a nod, something resolute coming over his face, and crawled onto the bed with
me, bracing himself over me. “I just want to make sure. You’re too important to me
to push you too far and fuck this up.”

I stared up at him, at this man who stirred this thing in me I couldn’t even articulate,
and cupped his jaw. “There’s nothing in this world I want more than this, right now.”

The tenderness that lit in his eyes nearly broke me open. He reached back to hook
my legs around his waist. “That makes two of us,
cher
.”

He positioned himself between my thighs, teasing me mercilessly as he dragged his
erection along my folds until I could tell even he could take no more, and then he
pushed inside me. Slow and full and perfect. My body stretched, protesting some and
reminding me it’d been a long time, but at the same time something much deeper inside
me relaxed, aligned, and settled.

This felt right. Good. Amazing.

I banded my arms around him and drew him down to me. His mouth moved over mine and
our bodies took over the rhythm like the ocean behind us, rising and falling, crashing
against each other. Gentle and rough. Sweet and dirty. All at the same time. Desperate
in the best possible way. Like we were starved for each other and this would be the
only meal we’d share.

Burke was full of sexy sounds and grunts, hot words and promises. I loved how vocal
he was, how he said my name, how he said the word
fuck
—like it was the most magical and transcendent of words. Like the connection of our
bodies was some form of worship.

And maybe it was. I certainly was ready to thank whatever supreme being had gifted
me with his man.

Burke braced his forearms on each side of me, sweat making his dark hair curl at his
temples, and rocked deep into me. With each glide of his hips, he dragged his body
over my clit, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. “Burke.”

His name was more of a plea this time and his eyes went dark at the sound of it. “That’s
right,
cher
. Take what you need. Let me see you let go.”

And that was all it took. I went over the precipice again, digging my nails into his
back and meeting him thrust for thrust with some crazed, frantic rhythm.

He came with a rumbling primal noise, joining me on the ride and letting our voices
drown out not just the waves but the world around us. We were flying. Suspended. Protected.
For a few seconds, nothing was more powerful than the two of us colliding.

All was right in the universe.

I wished I could’ve held onto the moment longer. But I took comfort in knowing we
had a whole week ahead of us.

A while later, we were snuggled up under a beach towel, drifting in our own thoughts
as we gazed out at the ocean and stars. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so content.
Burke turned to me, his movements languid. “Still doing okay with all this?”

I dragged my gaze from the sky to look at him. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

Tension lines appeared around his mouth, and he reached out to move my hair away from
my face. “It’s just, I know we agreed to be two other people out here, but I’m not
oblivious, Gretch. This is a big step and has to have brought up some stuff for you.
A few days ago, you flipped out about a kiss, so I can only imagine what’s going through
your head with this. Hell, it brings up stuff for me.”

I stared at him, all the words not meshing together. Kissing. And flipping out. And
bringing up stuff. It was like a foreign language that wouldn’t translate in my head.
“What do you mean
stuff
?”

“You know what I mean. I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk about him.”

“Who?”

His jaw twitched. “Come on, Gretch. You don’t have to commit that fully to this role.
You can talk about Harris.”

And that was when I realized something was very, very wrong. Because the concern on
his face said this was something big. Something I should know. Something vital.

And all I could ask was, “Who’s Harris?”

 

 

 

Chapter 8

~Burke~

 

Burke sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Every part of him
was cold, and he had to fight back the urge to retch into the bushes next to the cabana.
The doctor was in with Gretchen again and had asked him to wait outside because he’d
been ranting about how Gretchen needed to be transported to a hospital. He’d refused
to leave her side, but Gretchen had finally interrupted and told him to take a walk.

Couldn’t fucking blame her.

She had the right to hate him. He hated himself. She’d gotten a concussion today,
had lost memories, and still he went forward with the plans for the night like some
horny, love-struck teenager. Even when he sensed that she wasn’t quite herself, that
she seemed too relaxed and into everything, he’d hadn’t let himself question it. He’d
allowed himself to believe that it was finally happening, that Gretchen was coming
out of her grief and really seeing him as not just her friend but something more.

Hell, at points tonight, he’d even let himself imagine that she could love him.
There’s no one else I’d rather be here with right now.
He should’ve known then that something was wrong. Because the real Gretchen would
never say that. There was always someone else she would rather be with—his brother.

And right in this moment, Burke hated Harris.
Hated
him. If he could turn back time to that night of Truth or Dare, he would fight for
Gretchen instead of letting her sail on to Harris. He would tell her how he felt.
He would
show
her. Because maybe he wouldn’t have been able to give her all the uptown perks and
the fancy New York apartment, but he would’ve never hurt her like his brother had.
He would’ve loved her.

He already did.

Now it was all fucked to hell. He’d crossed an uncrossable line. And even if she forgave
him for that, things would never be the same because he’d exposed too much. He’d let
her see how he really felt in all its unedited glory. There was no coming back from
that.

When the memory of Harris returned, the guilt and regret that would crash down on
her would be absolutely annihilating. This would wreck her. Not only that she’d slept
with Burke with such abandon, but that’d she’d forgotten about Harris even for a second.

In Gretchen’s world, that would be an unforgivable sin.

He
would be an unforgivable sin.

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