Hell, after last night, I’ll be lucky if I can jerk off to anything but memories of being balls deep in Maddie for the next year.
She blew my damned mind. I’ve always known she’s a sweetheart with a secretly wicked sense of humor, but I had no clue she’s as much a sex fiend as I am—four times in one night and I’m sure she would have been up for more if we hadn’t gotten a late start—or that sleeping with her would feel so…right.
Good, natural, easy, and hot as ever-loving fuck.
As far as the effect it might have on our families, I don’t know if dating Maddie is a good idea or a bad one, but I can’t bring myself to care too much. Our families are made of tough stuff and I want more time with Maddie.
I want her in my bed for a hell of a lot more than one night and I’m not about to let her shoot me down without a fight.
I’ve haven’t felt this way about a woman since before Wendy, the woman who ripped my heart out of my chest and spurred my move back to Bliss River from Atlanta last year.
But unlike Wendy, Maddie isn’t off-limits. Not really, not in any way that we can’t find a work around.
And unlike Wendy, I know Maddie won’t give me emotional whiplash.
If she decides to give this a chance, she’ll be honest with me. About what she wants. What she feels. Maddie’s always been an open book. It’s one of the things I like most about her. You never have to wonder where you stand with her. She’ll tell you exactly what she’s thinking, call you on your bullshit, and do it all with a gentle touch because she doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.
I think it could be…good between us.
Maybe even really good.
Now I just have to hope she comes to a similar conclusion.
“Hello, Earth to Jamison.” Eric, one of my friends from my old department in Atlanta—and the man responsible for strong-arming me into coming on this camping trip—waves a hand in front of my face.
I blink and pull my thoughts back to the present, surprised to see that Eric and Freddie have already finished eating. My own plate is still half-full of ribs and potato salad. “What?”
“What do you think?” Eric asks. “You want to go?”
“Go where?” I sigh, not missing the look Eric and Freddie exchange across the table. “Sorry, I was zoning out.”
“Yeah, we noticed.” Eric smirks. “Does it have anything to do with the woman you’ve been staring at all day with ‘need to hit that’ shooting from your eyeballs? If so, you should go talk to her. I’m sure she’d be up for some private time. Women can’t resist you, right?”
There’s a hint of resentment in his tone that makes me bristle.
With his thick blond hair and gym rat physique, Eric looks like the kind of guy who would have no trouble finding a date. But something about him turns off all the genuinely interesting single women he meets.
They can probably sense that he values women about as much as he values the fish in the custom tank in his apartment—the ones he never remembers to feed and simply replaces when they go belly-up.
Cool women are generally smart women, and they seem to see through Eric’s facade from the get-go and steer clear.
“Her name is Maddie.” I try to keep my tone light, but know I’ve failed when Eric’s smirk spreads wider and Freddie laughs beneath his breath.
“Maddie,” Freddie mimics with an exaggerated sigh, batting his eyelashes. “What a pretty name.”
“Shut up.” I toss my wadded napkin at Freddie’s face, but the other man dodges it easily.
Freddie’s smaller than both Eric and me, but he’s lean and fast, making him one of the best tillermen I’ve ever met. He also went through a rough divorce last year and doesn’t seem quite ready to jump back into the dating pool. Several cute women tried to start a conversation with him while we were goofing off on the beach earlier, but Freddie wasn’t anything more than polite.
“Relax.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “She’s gorgeous, man, and she and her friends seem cool. I say go for it.”
“Yeah, and she’s got amazing tits,” Eric says, earning a scowl from me. Eric and I have never been as close as Freddie and I are, and hearing Eric talk about Maddie like she’s a piece of meat reminds me why.
“Manners, man,” Freddie says, beating me to it. “You’re not at a strip club.”
“No, if I were, I wouldn’t be surrounded by sixes and sevens.” Eric sighs as he casts a bored glance around the picnic tables, where the crowd is thinning as people finish their meals and retreat to the beach or down the trails for one last hike before darkness falls. “Or if I were, at least they’d be topless.” He shifts his attention my way again. “So, are you coming or not?”