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.
“I’ll give you two. Naomi and Jake are christening Noelle in two weeks and getting married in three.” I duck my chin, keeping my gaze on Jamison’s wrinkled shirt. “It’s their time to be in the spotlight. We don’t want to distract from their special days or make things awkward.”
“How would we make things awkward?”
“If the godparents, who also happen to be the maid of honor and the best man, who also happen to be the sister of the bride and the brother of the groom, have recently been through a break-up, that would be pretty awkward,” I force my eyes up to his face, surprised to find him smiling. “What? It’s not funny. It would be awful. We’d been standing within a few feet of each other at the church and seated at the same table at the reception and Naomi and Jake would be worried about us being miserable and—”
“I seriously doubt I’m going to get tired of fucking you in two to three weeks,” he says in a husky voice that sets things low in my body to buzzing. “But on the off chance you decide you’re done with me before then, I have the perfect solution.”
“What’s that?” I ask, trying not think about sex, which is pretty damned difficult when I’m pressed against every delicious inch of this man I know is capable of giving me multiple orgasms without even seeming to try that hard.
“We don’t tell anyone that we’re dating until after the wedding,” he says. “So, if we break up before then, there’s no awkwardness. No harm, no foul, no distracting from Jake and Naomi’s special day with their baby or their wedding.”
I frown. What he’s saying makes sense, but I’m still pretty freaked out by the thought of dating Jamison. He’s just so…dangerous. And the chances of this becoming something more than temporary are slim to none.
But what about seizing the day?
Having a little fun while you wait for Mr. Right?
You and Jamison clearly have fun together, and you were just moaning and groaning about how sad you would be if you never got to have sex with him again. So what’s your problem, woman?
“I don’t know…” I mumble.
“Take today to think about it,” Jamison says. “There’s no reason to decide right now. Mull it over and we can decide tonight whether we want to keep seeing each other after we go home.”
After a moment, I nod. “Okay.” There’s definitely no harm in thinking about things. And maybe a little time to turn this over in my head will help me sort out my mixed emotions.
“Good.” He nods back toward camp. “Want to go get some breakfast? They have coffee and cinnamon buns out on the picnic tables near the host tent.”
“I should probably shower, and clean up,” I say as we start down the path. “I’m sure I look like a shipwreck survivor.”
He shoots me a sideways glance. “Nah. You’re hot. Beautiful. As usual.”
I turn to demand he stop blowing smoke up my skirt, but he looks so sincere I swallow my words and mumble a soft, “thank you,” instead.
“You’re welcome,” he says, then adds with a grin, “Though you look best with fewer clothes on and my hands all over you.”
I shake my head. “You’re shameless.”
“Takes one to know one.” He winks. “Catch you after dinner, gorgeous.”
He breaks into a jog, trotting off toward the camp, leaving me to trudge through the gravel on my own, accompanied by nothing but the voices warring in my head and the sizzle his words left simmering across my skin.
Chapter Six
Jamison
By the time dinner rolls around I’m uncharacteristically nervous as fuck.
I’ve told myself a dozen times it doesn’t matter what Maddie decides.
There are other fish in the sea, after all, several of which I can probably convince to swim back to my tent before sunset if I need comforting after she turns me down.
There has been no shortage of lingering glances my way while I played beach volleyball with the guys, and Debbie doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge over the fact that I abandoned her on the beach after Maddie caught us kissing.
But my inner pep talk falls flat.
I don’t want any of the other fish in the sea, or the women on the retreat, or any other woman in Bliss River, for that matter. Ever since that day in February, when I suddenly saw Maddie through new eyes, I can’t stop thinking about her.