Surrender (Seaside Pictures #4) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,21
seemed to stare me down in an effort to read my mind.
Then his eyes widened, and he jumped to his feet, nearly falling over in the sand in an effort to come and sit by me. He suddenly was right at my side just as I swallowed my last bite and stared into the fire.
“Orgasms.” He just had to repeat the word. “I mean, you’ve…” His eyes narrowed. “…at least with your ex you did… or someone you dated after… or—”
At my expression, he stopped talking. And then I just shook my head no because the truth was too embarrassing.
“Bronte…” He drew out my name like he was concerned. “When was the last time you had sex?”
Why did I suddenly feel like bursting into tears and confessing my lack of sins?
The embarrassment was so strong I wanted to grab the shovel, dig my own hole, and beg Drew to bury me.
“Bronte.” He pulled me into his arms. “It’s a safe space, remember?”
“It’s…” I tried and then wiped a stray tear that decided to make its way down my right cheek. “It’s been a while.”
“A while being… a year, two years, a decade?”
“The last time was the day before he left us when Amelia was around two.”
“Fourteen years,” he said through clenched teeth. “Fourteen?”
I winced. “Can you stop repeating it? And why is your math so fast?”
“What the hell was wrong with that asshole to even sleep with you before leaving? What did he do? Break you for all good men out there?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “What do you think?”
“I guess there’s only one thing left for you to do then,” he said softly.
I glanced up at him. “What?”
“Ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
He grabbed one of my hands, interlaced our fingers together, leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered, “Ask me to fuck you.”
CHAPTER 7
Andrew
Was it a hell of a gamble? That would be a yes.
Was I praying she’d say yes and feeling a bit blasphemous because of said prayer? Naturally.
Was I thinking of myself and only myself? Absolutely not. This was about her and only her, and I needed her to be on board before I lost my damn mind.
Fourteen years?
Not on my watch. Not. On. My. Watch.
Her green eyes didn’t leave mine. I prayed for those lips to part, for the answer to be yes, and knew in my soul that if she said no, I’d probably find a way to convince her she was wrong in every way.
She needed this.
You need this.
The voice taunted inside my head. I batted it away like the fly it was and waited, my stance tense.
She finally exhaled and looked away. “No, but thank you.”
Stunned speechless, it took me a few minutes to gather myself. “Did you just say no thank you to mind-blowing sex? As if I was just offering to help you with your groceries?”
She laughed. “You make it sound worse than it is.”
“Am I?” My eyebrows shot up. “Because I’m pretty sure that the guy you used to stare at when you were sixteen just said let me make all the pain go away and give you something to really focus on by way of pretty mind-blowing orgasms, and you just said, “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for the offer though, champ!”
“Okay, first of all, I didn’t say champ,” she corrected with a sly grin. “Second, it’s not that I’m rejecting you, though I’m sure it’s never happened, and this is a shock to your ego.” She literally patted me on the thigh as if I was a toddler. “I just — I did the one-night stand. I did the whole ‘let’s have sex and throw caution to the wind,’ and I don’t want to do that again. Plus, we talked about this when we made this arrangement. You said I had to ask you, and I said no thank you. Ergo, we continue with our campout… unless you want to go pout in the tent for a minute. I’ll understand if you need a second to gather yourself after such a blow to your masculine sensitivities.”
I glared. “I’ve been rejected plenty of times.” Lie. “Or at least— Never mind, the point is, you need this.”
She licked her lips. “Do I need this? Or do you need this?”
“We both need this.” I clenched my jaw.
“I think… celibacy might be good for you.” She winked.
Ha, she didn’t even know the half of it.
Celibacy?
I’d been like a frigging priest for the last three years!
“I don’t like that word,” I grumbled.
“You’ll survive, I’m