Beautiful Sacrifice (Maddox Brothers #3)(89)
Taylor froze, and I ran into him from behind.
“Sorry,” Taylor whispered, but he wasn’t being as quiet as he likely thought. “That’s Tommy.”
“Shh,” I said.
“… missing her,” Liis said, “wishing you were with her. And you want me to change everything I trust for that?”
“This is an impossible situation,” Thomas responded.
I cringed, feeling guilt and empathy for them both. “C’mon,” I whispered. “We shouldn’t eavesdrop.”
Taylor held up a finger.
“Your payback?” Liis cried. “You’ve made me believe all weekend that you were falling for me!”
“I am! I have! Jesus Christ, Camille, how can I get that through your head?”
“Oh, f*ck,” Taylor said. “That’s not good.”
“Did he just call her Camille?” I asked, horrified.
Taylor nodded, weaving as he tried to stay upright.
“Goddamn it,” Thomas said, his voice desperate. “I am so sorry.”
“Can we please go?” I asked, tugging on Taylor’s arm.
“I am so … stupid,” Liis said. The hurt in her voice could have carried all the way across the ocean.
“Taylor,” I hissed.
“I wanna make sure he’s okay.”
Just then, Thomas emerged from the beach, startled to see us standing there. His features turned severe.
“Hey, man. You all right?” Taylor asked, using me to steady himself.
Thomas’s expression softened from anger to concern. “How much have you had to drink?”
“A lot,” I said.
“Not that much,” Taylor said at the same time.
Thomas glanced at me and then leaned closer to his brother. “Remember what I said. Just sleep it off. You know how you get.”
Taylor waved him off, and Thomas patted his brother’s shoulder.
“Night.” He looked at me. “Make sure he goes straight to bed. No shower. Don’t even undress him. Just get him into bed, so he can pass out.”
I frowned. I’d seen Taylor drunk before. He had been wasted on New Year’s Eve. I was the sad drunk. Taylor just liked to talk a lot—like, until sunrise. But I liked it. He was honest and shameless about his thoughts and feelings on everything. There was no filter, no holding back.
“Falyn?” Thomas said in an authoritative voice.
“I heard you,” I said, unappreciative of the order. “C’mon, Taylor, let’s go.”
Thomas passed us, and I guided Taylor up the never-ending staircase and into our room. He leaned on me to kick off his shoes and then peel off his socks.
“Gross. I think I just need to throw that pair away. They’re so sweaty that they probably weigh five pounds apiece.”
“Yep,” I said, “there’s that honesty I love so much.”
Taylor looked up at me, something sparking in his eyes, but he looked away, attempting to unbutton his shirt.
“Here, let me help,” I said.
He didn’t make eye contact while I undressed him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of me while I took off my own clothes. I knelt down in front of him, but he stepped back.
I let my hands slap down to my thighs. “What is going on with you?”
“Nothing,” he said, pulling me up to stand. He walked backward, leading me toward the bed.
“Does it have something to do with what Thomas said?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I leaned in to kiss him, sliding my hands around his backside. The bed was just behind him, and with one small push, Taylor was lying on his back on the mattress.
I crawled on top of him, and his hands found their way to my hips. He groaned as I sucked on his bottom lip, and his erection formed beneath me as I kissed him.
“Oh my God, this is all I thought about last week,” he said.
I sat up. “Not this week?”
“You told me to think about not having kids this week, to really think about it, so I did.”
I lowered myself until my breasts were pressed against his warm chest. My mouth made a trail of kisses along his jawline to his earlobe, gently nibbling at the soft skin before pulling away with the slightest suction.
He moaned, grabbing my jaw with both hands, forcing my mouth back to his. I positioned myself over him, but he released me and grabbed my hips, holding me at bay.