“I know that. I’ve always struggled mentally with the physical part of our relationship, but it feels so good. It’s the only real form of sexual release I’ve had until just recently.” His fingers twitched, and had he been untied, she was certain he’d be reaching for her. “Please don’t let this come between us. I’m not sure I can take another heartbreak.”
“I’m not letting anything come between us,” she said, her disbelief rapidly turning to rage. Was he really trying to place blame on her for the sudden and unexpected differences between them? She would not put up with that sort of bullshit. “You’re the one fantasizing about your best friend while you’re coming.”
“Your grip was so solid, so firm, I guess I lost track of who was touching me.”
“You are not putting any blame on me for this, Kellen Jamison. I won’t let you.”
He sighed but didn’t drop his gaze. His eyes bored into hers until she had no choice but to believe him. To trust him.
“I don’t blame you, sunshine. And I don’t want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you.”
“But if you want him, that will hurt me, if not now, then at some point in the future.”
“I don’t want him.”
She could see the sincerity in his dark eyes. His honesty and frankness were two of his most appealing traits. But some part of her couldn’t believe him. She didn’t doubt that Kellen believed that he didn’t want Owen, but greater convictions than sexual fantasies had been built upon false theories.
“Then what is it?” She rubbed a hand up her chilled arm. “I still don’t understand.”
He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to the ceiling. “It’s being tied. It makes me crave the touch of a man.” His intense gaze met hers again, and his passion for life, for her, blazed fiercely in his eyes. “Do you think I want to feel that way when the most gorgeous woman in existence is giving me more pleasure than I can handle? You are amazing, Dawn. Everything about you is amazing. And I’m sorry. For everything I’ve ever done that has hurt you, I’m sorry.”
He was sorry? What good did that do? Frustrated and more hurt than she cared to admit, she climbed from the bed and slipped her free-flowing sundress over her head. She then cut the ropes off his right wrist with the scissors and left him there to free himself. She wasn’t disgusted by his fantasies; she thought they were downright sexy. But if Kellen was actually in love with Owen and simply didn’t realize it, she didn’t stand a chance at holding Kellen’s attention. The two men had a long history of friendship and support. Hell, they basically shared a life. Being on the road together for their careers, spending all their at-home free time together, being cared for by the same family made them more like a couple than most couples in her book. The only parts of couplehood they didn’t share were sex and romantic love. Or so she’d thought. They had apparently shared some sex—maybe not full out dick-in-ass gay sex, but still . . . It seemed likely that their next step was romantic love.
Not knowing how she’d even gotten outside, Dawn stirred up sand as she scrambled over the dunes to the beach. Maybe she should just drown herself; then she wouldn’t have to sort through the jumble of her thoughts and emotions.
Why did the most alluring man she’d ever met have to be so fucking complicated? She kicked at the sand in her path, hoping her feet knew where to take her, because her head and her heart were obviously leading her in the wrong direction.
“Dawn!” Kellen’s voice carried across the dunes. “Please. I really need to talk about this.”
He needed to talk about this? Just like he needed help getting over Sara. Just like he needed to tie her up in order to fuck her. Yeah? Well, what about what she needed?
“Don’t follow me!” she yelled, not knowing if he were even attempting to do so. She couldn’t see where she was going through the unwanted tears blurring her vision. She didn’t realize how close she was to the water until a warm wave washed over her bare feet.
Something squished beneath her toes, and stinging pain wrapped around her ankle and shot up her leg. She cried out and tumbled onto the beach, ripping the offensive jellyfish tentacle from her smarting flesh and tossing the vile creature back into the water. Tears of anguish mingled with those of emotional turmoil, and she wrapped her arms around her shin, wanting to coddle her wound but afraid to actually touch it.
Kellen’s bare feet appeared in her line of sight. Yeah, she was so infatuated with the man that she recognized his goddamned feet.
He squatted in front of her and captured her upper arms between his hands, but she refused to look at him.
“Are you okay? Did it sting you?”
“Yeah, it stung me.” Stupid jellyfish. But the squishy creature’s tentacles stung a lot less than playing second fiddle to Owen for Kellen’s affection. Make that third fiddle. Freaking Sara had claimed first chair.
“Hold still,” he said. “I’ll pee on it.”
She blinked up at him. “What?”
“It’ll take the sting out. I read it online.”
“You are not pissing on my leg!”
“I’m just trying to help you.”
His gorgeous brown eyes were filled with concern, but his expression didn’t weaken her resolve.
“By peeing on me? Are you crazy?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and within seconds they were laughing. It felt so much better to laugh with him—even if it was at her expense—than to cry over him.
“I think that’s an old wives’ tale anyway,” he said. “Do you have any vinegar at your house?”
“I might. I’m not sure.”
“Baking soda, then?”
She smiled. “You’re asking me, the stress baker, if I have baking soda?”
“Good point. Can you stand?”
“It’s a jellyfish sting,” she said, still feeling testy, “not a broken ankle.”
She pushed him aside and got to her feet, taking what she intended to be a confident step. The pain in her skin where the tentacle had wrapped around her ankle made her calf muscle seize up, so she stumbled despite her valiant effort not to look like a total wimp.
“I’ll carry you.”
“I don’t need you to carry me,” she insisted, limping several paces before she stepped on a very sharp seashell. “Ow!”
“Don’t you get that this isn’t about what you need, but rather what I want?”
She turned to look at him, not sure if he was referring to her proclivity for injury or if there was a deeper meaning behind his words.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, settling his hands on his hips and looking—with the sun kissing his bronze skin and the waves churning behind him—very much like the god of the ocean she’d taken him for at their first meeting
“Like what?”
“Like I can’t take the criticism I have coming.”
Had she been looking at him like that?
“I do get how selfish I’ve been acting, concentrating on what I want at the expense of your needs.”
It was a rare man who would recognize such behavior in himself. In her mind, that made him worth the hassle and heartache she experienced along the way. “You have a reason to be selfish. This is hard for you.”
“Dawn, stop making excuses for me. I make enough of them for myself.” He rubbed a hand over his face and murmured under his breath, “I’ve told her to run from me how many times? And the first time she does, I immediately chase after her.”