The entire ACOTAR series is on our sister website: novelsforall.com

We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

Kiss and Don’t Tell: Chapter 9

PACEY

“So, you’re just going to ignore my questions?” Posey asks as we finally get inside the house after picking up the Jenga blocks.

“You didn’t ask anything worth answering,” I say. I take a dish towel from one of the drawers and lay it on the counter. I scatter the Jenga blocks over the towel and intently focus on making sure they’re all dried off.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I asked some damn good questions.”

I turn toward him and gnaw on the inside of my cheek. “Dude, I think . . . I think I know her.”

“What?” Posey asks, confused. “What do you mean you know her? Like from a previous life?”

“What the hell is wrong with everyone? No, not from a previous life. From this life.”

“Where from?”

I scan down the hallway to make sure she’s out of earshot. I grip the back of my neck when I say, “My brother.”

“You have a brother?” Posey asks, his face scrunched up. “Since when?”

“Half-brother. Before my dad met my mom, he had a one-night stand with some girl. A year later, he got my mom pregnant and married her. They’ve been together since. But when I was fourteen, this kid comes out of the woodwork and says he’s my dad’s son. It rocked the family a bit. My dad tried to have a relationship with him, but it fizzled out after he moved to Seattle. He stayed in touch here and there, but I can’t remember the last time I saw him. He wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Okay, so why do you think you know Winnie through your brother? Oh shit, is she his sister?”

I shake my head and glance down the hallway again. “No, I think she dated my brother.”

Posey blinks, his mind attempting to comprehend what I’m saying. “What? How do you know?”

“She looked familiar when she walked into the cabin, but I couldn’t quite place her. But when we were playing Jenga, she said her ex-boyfriend’s name is Josh and, it was as if it all hit me at once.” I pull my phone from my pocket and open up my Facebook app. “My dad went to Seattle about six years ago to visit with Josh, and he posted pictures from his trip. I’d just finished college and had been drafted to the minors. But I remember the photos because Josh had a fine-as-hell girlfriend.” I go to my dad’s profile and start searching for his trip to Seattle, guessing he hasn’t deleted any of his photos from years ago. No one does.

“So, you think Winnie is your brother’s ex-girlfriend?”

“I don’t think,” I say as I find the pictures of Josh, my dad, and . . . Winnie, standing in front of the Space Needle. I flash the screen to Posey and say, “I know she was his girlfriend.” And that my half-brother wasn’t only a dick to me and my dad but also a dick in bed to Winnie. Selfish.

Posey takes the phone from me and pushes his hand through his hair in shock. “Holy shit, man. Does she know?”

I shake my head. “Nah, I wasn’t even positive until just now.”

“What a fucking small world.” Posey hands me back my phone. “Are you going to say something?”

“I don’t know.” I scratch the side of my jaw.

Posey smirks. “Because you want a shot at her and if you tell her, she might not give you that shot.”

“Not true,” I answer, even though I’m pretty sure that is true. Winnie doesn’t seem to be the kind of person who would float between brothers, even if they’re half-brothers who are estranged.

“How’s your relationship with Josh?”

“Non-existent. Dude hates me.” My mind falls to the conversation with my dad. What the hell would he want to talk to me about? “Typical I-got-the-childhood-he-didn’t situation. I’ve tried reaching out, but he wants nothing to do with me. Even tried giving him tickets to a game. He’s pretty much set in stone when it comes to me. Therefore, so am I. He was an asshole to me and to my father, so he’s pretty much dead to me now.”

“So I’m guessing he wouldn’t like to know that you’re falling for his ex-girlfriend.”

“Falling for her? Have you lost your mind? I’ve known her for a day. Falling for people doesn’t work like that.”

“You have experience on the subject?”

“Are you asking if I’ve ever fallen in love with anyone?” I lean against the counter.

“Yeah. You’re closed off when it comes to your love life. Don’t know much about it.”

“As a matter of fact, I have fallen for someone.”

“Really?” Posey asks, surprised.

“Yup.” I push off the counter and walk up to him. I lift my hand and stroke his cheek. “It’s about time I tell you how I feel.”

He pushes at my chest and laughs. “Get the fuck out of here. I’m being serious, dude.”

“Have I ever been in love? No.” I shake my head. “Have I been infatuated? Yeah. But not in love. I’ve never connected with someone on a deep enough level to fall in love.”

“And where are you with Winnie?” Posey asks.

“Uh . . . nowhere,” I answer. “Dude, seriously, we just met—”

“Maybe, but I saw the way you two were looking at each other back there.” He nods to the backyard. “That wasn’t nothing.”

“Well, it’s nothing that needs to be talked about.” I push off the counter and say discreetly, “Don’t say anything about Josh. I don’t need the guys talking about it.”

“Your secret is safe with me, but I do think you need to tell Winnie.”

“Yeah, I know,” I answer, even though telling Winnie about Josh is the last thing I want to do, especially after how we just ended things with awkward uncertainty. “Thanks for the chat,” I say as I head down the hallway to my room.

She dated Josh.

Fucking Josh.

Out of all the people in the world, the one person who treated her like hell, it has to be Josh.

Makes me hate the fuck even more.

As I close in on Winnie’s room, I consider checking on her to make sure she’s okay. We were in an intimate position, a position I would fucking love to repeat, especially if I’m able to repeat the shock in her eyes and the heady feel of her increased breath. But then I think better of it. She’s probably embarrassed. Embarrassed by our conversation, her admission, and for being caught by Levi, even though he played it off as nothing.

But if she’s embarrassed, it might be a smart idea to reassure her everything is good between us.

I pause and look over my shoulder at her door. Hell, should I knock?

She bolted pretty quickly.

Maybe she wants to be left alone.

Then again, she also trusted me with some private information. I want her to know whatever we talked about is between us.

Hell.

I spin on my heel and before I can stop myself, I knock on her door and call out her name. “Winnie?”

This time, I hear her footsteps against the hardwood floor. The door opens and her face peeks through the crack.

“Hi,” she says, not showing her body, just her face.

Is she naked behind that door? Wouldn’t I like to know?

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Fine,” she answers casually.

“Okay, because you took off pretty fast and I’m sure that wasn’t the kind of position you’d want one of the guys to find us in.”

“Seemed as though Levi was good with it,” she answers, more casual than I anticipated. She’s brushing me off, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s got something going on in her room and I’m disturbing her, or if it’s because she’s embarrassed by what happened. Either way, I need to let her know everything is cool between us.

“I don’t want things to be awkward tomorrow.”

“Why would they be awkward?” she asks.

“Uh, I don’t know . . . because you’re acting awkward right now.”

“Oh.” She glances down at herself. “I was just trying to be modest.” She opens the door wider and her body comes into view. She’s dressed in a thin, pink tank top, and it’s obvious from how the shirt is clinging to her breasts that she’s not wearing a bra. She’s paired the top with a pair of dark purple silk shorts.

There’s nothing overtly sexy about the pajama set, but the way the two articles of clothing cling to her body makes all the blood in my body rush to my dick.

Hell. She’s so goddamn gorgeous. But she’s not just gorgeous—she’s fun, she’s bubbly, she’s interesting. Josh let her go? How? And then I think about her comment about the orgasms. What the fuck is wrong with Josh? How could he not spend his time worshipping this girl in bed? From her hot-as-hell tits to her curves, I would spend a decent time making it known just how hot I think she is.

“I wasn’t trying to be weird . . . I mean, yeah, maybe I felt a little weird, but that’s because of what I told you. I mean, who confesses something like that to someone they just met? So, that was embarrassing. I never should’ve told you that.” She’s rambling, but all I can focus on is the gloss on her lips and the bounce of her tits as she talks. “Anyway, I’m sorry for making things awkward. That’s on me. I hope you’re not weird with me.” She places her hand to her forehead. “God, I told you that you were big in all places. That’s just . . . inappropriate. I’m sorry. I seem to have lost my mind around you. Won’t happen again. It’s just—”

I move in close to her, and she audibly catches her breath as I slowly move my hand to her hip and pin her against her bedroom wall. Fuck, I want to know what those lips taste like.

I only keep one hand on her because I don’t want her to feel as though she’s trapped, and also, I know if I have two hands on her, one of them is going to go where it probably shouldn’t, and that’s up her tank top, to her tits. I’d roll those hard nipples of hers between my fingers.

“There was nothing weird or awkward that happened out there,” I say, quietly.

I shouldn’t be this close. I shouldn’t even be touching her, but, Jesus, there’s something about her innocence, about her rambling, about her sweet voice that draws me in. From the moment she stepped into this cabin, wet but full of life, I was drawn to her.

“I had fun,” I add. “And I want you to know”—I lift her chin up so her eyes truly connect with mine. Once they do, I yank my hand away so it doesn’t wander—“anything you said to me out there, it stays between us.”

“Oh, I didn’t even think about it.” She nibbles her bottom lip, and my eyes fall to that beautiful mouth. What would those lips look like wrapped around my cock? Those eyes staring up at me as she sucks me off. Fucking perfection, probably. “Do you guys gossip much?”

Focusing on what she’s asking, I say, “Only on occasion.”

“I see.” She sucks in a sharp breath when my thumb rubs up her hipbone.

Don’t go any further, man. That’s it. Any more and you’ll lose control.

“Well, um, thank you for letting me know.”

“You’re welcome.” Do her lips taste as sweet as her personality, as innocent as she says she is? Would she break me apart with one kiss? From the way she makes my body thrum with need simply from being this close, I’d say yes. But there’s no way in hell I’m going to stick around to find out. The last thing she probably needs is some guy hanging all over her, let alone her ex-boyfriend’s half-brother. Thunder erupts outside, signaling my cue to leave. I push off the wall and let go of her. As I take a step back, I keep my eyes trained on her, and that’s when I notice her nipples, hard and pressing against her tight-fitting tank.

Fucking hell.

Her eyes track mine; she knows I’m staring at her tits. And I can’t stop. I wet my lips. My body thrums with need—just one touch, one taste.

But it’s complicated.

Everything about this situation is complicated.

Before I can get carried away, I drag my hand over my mouth and then turn away. “Have a good night, Winnie.” I move to the doorway and look at her one more time. “Sweet dreams.”

And then I shut the door and walk to my bedroom. When I’m inside, I shut the door and lock it, as if to prevent myself from leaving. Fuck, what is this? This . . . burning, explosive need I have all of a sudden? It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman, but it’s never felt like this. Like if I don’t get a piece of her, I might combust.

I need a shower.

Now.

I hurry into my bathroom, turn on the water, and strip off my clothes. To my surprise, my cock juts up toward my stomach, hard as fuck. I grip it tightly as I close my eyes and wait for the shower to heat up. Fuck. It’s been a while, I get that, but I don’t think a girl has ever affected me the way Winnie did with that tiny tank and those rock-hard nipples.

Simple.

She didn’t do anything but take quick intakes of breath when I moved in close.

But her reaction to me—the way she submitted so easily and didn’t show an ounce of fear—made me want so much more than just those lips.

I slip into the shower, and instead of washing my body, I grab some soap, lather my hand, and then start moving it up and down my cock. With my other hand, I prop myself against the shower wall as the spray of the shower pelts my back. Legs braced, I pump while my mind goes to our time together tonight.

Her confession.

The honest look in her eyes.

The innocence in her expression, as if her own pleasure meant nothing.

The trust when she opened her legs for me without question.

When she let me touch her.

The hitch in her breath.

The headiness in her beautiful, deep blue eyes.

I stroke harder.

The way she smells like fresh soap and lavender.

Her melodic voice that captures me when she talks.

The feel of her within my arms as we hugged.

Her goddamn sexy figure in those short shorts.

Her tits . . .

“Fuck,” I grunt as my legs start to go numb, all the pleasure pulsing at the base of my cock.

The way her nipples pressed hard against her shirt, almost begging for me to touch her.

And her submission to me. No fear. All trust.

“Ahh, shit,” I mutter as my cock swells in my hand, and then I come.

I still, my cock pulsing, taking every last second of pleasure until I collapse against the tile with both hands.

I turn so my back is to the wall now and the water pelts my chest.

Holy shit.

I place both my hands on the tile over my head and take a few deep breaths.

I don’t remember the last time I did that—the last time I came thinking about a woman. But not thinking about her naked, just thinking . . . about her. I’m not sure if I’ve ever done that.

Winnie seems to be pulling out a lot of firsts for me, and what scares me is I really don’t know that much about her at all. I don’t even know her last name or what she does, or why she’s really here. But what I do know about her, I like a lot.

I move under the water and rinse off my body with some soap.

I have no idea how long she’ll be here, when she plans on leaving, or if she plans on wanting to get to know me, but what I do know is for as long as she’s here, I’m going to do my best to get to know her.

Despite knowing that she once belonged to Josh.


I FINISH TYING my running shoe and stand from my bed. The sun is barely filtering through my windows, since it’s not even six in the morning yet, but I couldn’t sleep.

Once again, Winnie was on my mind.

But this time, it was because of what she said about never experiencing an orgasm. It was all I could think about, how a man would let that happen. How could someone be that selfish and not attempt to make his partner come? How could Josh never let her come? What kind of tortured asshole is he? Yeah, they may have been together, but deeply in love? Nah, I don’t believe it. I think they were just comfortable with each other. Because if they were deeply in love, then Josh would’ve tried to make her come. He would’ve given a shit.

And of course, at three in the morning, all I could think about was how I would make her come. It would be all about her, not me. I would spread her across my bed, strip her down, and then make her squirm with my tongue and lips and fingers until she couldn’t take it anymore, and then I’d pull away, ensuring the feeling of teetering on the edge of bliss consumed her. And then, when she’d least expect it, I would make her come all over my tongue.

Hell, after I played it out in my head, I jacked off again.

And it’s also the reason why I’m on my way to the gym to work off some of this pent-up energy. Normally, I’d go run outside, but given the storm we had last night, the roads won’t be good for running, and I’m not looking for an off-season injury.

I slip out of my room and start down the hall just as Winnie’s door opens, as well. Not expecting to see me this early in the morning, she jerks back and clutches her hands over her mouth, muffling her squeal of fright.

“Oh my God, Pacey. Were you standing there all night?”

I chuckle. “Yes, in fact I was. I went back to my room, but instead of sleeping, I chose to stand right here, in front of your door.”

She lets out a deep breath and pushes at my shoulder. “Freak.”

I take her in. Bike shorts and sports bra with some running shoes. Her hair is in one of those fluffy buns on the top of her head, and those sexy freckles are visible across her nose and cheeks. Damn, she looks good.

“Where you off to?”

“Thought I would go for a walk. Couldn’t get much sleep last night so thought I would walk off some of this energy.”

You and me both. But what I want to know is . . . was she thinking about me like I was thinking about her? Did she masturbate to the thought of me like I did of her? No. She wouldn’t have, because it sounds like she doesn’t know how to get herself to orgasm.

“Seems as though we had the same idea, but you’re not going to want to walk outside unless you want to slide around everywhere.”

“Ugh, I keep forgetting we’re in the mountains with no regular roads. Where are you going, then?”

“The gym.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.” She turns back toward her room. “Well, I guess I’ll just jump back into bed.”

“Or . . . you can come to the gym with me?” I would love to see her work out in those short shorts and revealing sports bra.

She snorts. “Oh, okay. Yeah, let me get right on that.”

“What’s so funny? You can bench the bar.”

“And you can bench me, plus some, so let’s not pretend that I wouldn’t be an embarrassment in the gym next to you. Plus, I’d rather you not hear me grunt.”

I lick my lips and give her a smooth once-over. “You’re wrong. I’d love to hear you grunt.”

Her eyes widen. “Uh, oh . . . umm . . .”

Chuckling, I grab her hand and pull her along with me. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Why do I feel as though it won’t be?”

But I don’t give her much chance to change her mind, because I lead her down to the basement to the state-of-the-art gym Taters put together for us. I flip on the lights, and the gym comes to life.

Free weights are off to the right, along with three benches and squatting racks. To the left is the cardio equipment, as well as jump ropes, bands, mats, medicine balls, and Bosu balls. It’s everything we need for the off-season.

“Umm . . .” Her lips pop as she takes in the space. “This is incredibly nice.”

“Taters went all out.” I take my phone from my pocket and connect it to the Bluetooth speakers. “The gym is soundproof, so once that door is shut, we can crank up the music and the boys won’t hear a thing. Do you have any music you prefer to listen to while working out?”

“You’d hate my music, I’m sure.”

“Try me.”

She cutely stretches her arms. “I like to listen to boy-band music.”

“Why did I know you were going to say that?” Sighing, I go to Spotify and pull up a playlist made by someone, full of boy bands. I press play and the first song is “It’s Gonna Be Me” by *NSYNC.

“Okay, now I really know you’re flirting.”

“What gave you that impression?” I ask, walking over to her and taking her hand in mine again. I bring her to one of the treadmills and then step up on the one next to her.

“Uh, what do you think you’re doing?” she asks.

“Warming up, unless you have a better, more fun way to get our bodies worked up?” My voice drops when I ask her.

Adorably, she quickly shakes her head and says, “Treadmill works. So, what do you do, just start walking, or—”

I start with a solid jog, and she stares at me. “I’m going to say this right now,” I tell her. “Comparison takes all the fun out of shit. Don’t compare yourself to me, just enjoy yourself. Working out is supposed to be fun.”

And I hope that because she’s easygoing and seems to be up for anything, she’s going to be okay with that.

Luckily, she is, because she cranks her treadmill up to a solid walk.

“Then show me some fun, Pacey.”


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset