Page 36 of Tempt Our Fate
My pinky and ring finger press into her neck. Her pulse thrums erratically against them, giving away that she’s lost control just like I have.
“We shouldn’t.” There’s not an ounce of conviction in her voice, despite her words ringing true. I absolutely shouldn’t want to kiss the woman who’s driven me mad from the moment I first met her. But lust isn’t logical. She’s temptation and lust all wrapped into one, and for once, I’m dying to give in to it.
“You’re right about that,” I say, my voice low.
“I want to.”
“Why do I want to give you what you want for once?” My thumb traces over her cupid’s bow before running along her top lip. Her lips part even wider. I continue my path down, pushing her bottom lip as her saliva coats the pad of my thumb.
I’m about to trap her mouth with mine when she takes me by surprise. Her mouth opens even wider. I let my thumb slide deeper into her mouth, feeling the scrape of her teeth against my skin.
Her lips close around my thumb. My cock stirs as I imagine her in the exact same position but with my cock between her eager lips.
The moment her tongue runs along the pad of my thumb, I’m pushing off the quilt and getting as far away from her as possible.
21
PIPPA
My body freezesas I watch him rush away from me. I can’t move. My entire body is flushed, and my lips are still parted as if they were closing around his thick, calloused thumb.
It feels like freezing cold water has been thrown on me, and I don’t know how to react.
I was about to let Camden Hunter kiss me. In fact, I think I was close to begging for him to press his lips against mine just once. I lost total control of myself the moment he got too close to me.
The entire day has felt different. Hate was mixing with lust, and when I felt his breath hot on my cheeks, I forgot every reason why I shouldn’t let him kiss me and only focused on the one reason he should—because for one moment, there was nothing more I wanted than to know what he tastes like.
I bet he kisses angrily, with a pent-up rage that is all-consuming. I bet he fucks like that, too.
And for just a moment, I was desperate to know what it felt like to feel his anger in a different way. The rushed movement of his lips, the punishing bite of his teeth. I wanted to feel it all.
We were so close, until we weren’t. One moment, my thighs were pressing together to try and soothe the ache between my legs; the next moment, all I saw was Camden’s back as he got as far away from me as possible.
When I finally get my shit together, he’s already disappeared down the hill toward where we’d tied up the horses in a small meadow. I push hair from my face, trying to cool my flushed skin. The sun beating down on me doesn’t help, despite the chill in the air thanks to the mountain breeze.
Part of me wants to let Camden go. I want to be glad that he stopped us before anything could have happened. We don’t like each other in the slightest. There’s no reason we should ever kiss. But no matter how hard I try, there’s a tinge of disappointment in my chest because I wanted so badly to know how he kissed, how he tasted, what sounds he’d make if my cheeks hollowed out around his thumb.
It doesn’t take long for that disappointment to turn into anger. It must be something he’s good at, being such an asshole that it gets my blood boiling. I angrily shove myself off the ground before snatching up the quilt and our coffees. I hold them tightly against my chest as I head in the direction Camden just traveled.
He doesn’t get to tell me he wants to kiss me and leave.
“Camden!” I yell. He’s got one leg in the stirrup of Rebel’s saddle as he swings his other leg over the horse. He doesn’t do it with any kind of grace. If anything, he looks incredibly uncomfortable trying to lean forward to grab the reins from where they dangle at Rebel’s side.
“Camden,” I hiss, now closer to him. I’m well aware of the bite in my tone. I have no reason to hide how furious I am with him for running away without any kind of explanation. My heart hammers against my chest in anger—and maybe still from feeling his touch—and I can hear the angry thrum of my pulse ringing in my ears.
He doesn’t bother to look at me when he clears his throat to speak. “I’ve got to go,” he clips, digging his heels into the horse’s sides.
“I wouldn’t do that,” I warn, watching him still try to grab the reins from where they brush in the dirt.
Rebel prances anxiously, tossing his head up and down, which is never a good sign. He’s a great horse, but he doesn’t do well in high-stress situations.
I break out in a run, nearing Camden and Rebel to try and calm the horse. Rebel loves it when you run a hand along his neck, telling him to calm with a gentle tone to your voice. Camden doesn’t know how to do any of that—not that I think he would right now, even if he did.
Instead, he digs his heels into Rebel’s sides once again without having any way to guide the horse with the reins still not in his grip.
“Just wait,” I snap, almost to them.
Camden doesn’t wait. Instead, he clicks his tongue to tell Rebel to go. The horse does exactly as he’s told. It all happens in slow motion. Rebel kicks his back legs out, showing his discomfort with the entire situation. I try to whisper gentle reminders to the horse to soothe him, but it doesn’t work. My attempts to grab onto the reins don’t go anywhere because of the way Rebel thrashes his body.