The Bacelor: Make A Sex Deal

Jenner released me as he replied, “Wait until you see it. It’s fucking majestic. I’ve been to every one of the Spade Hotels, and it’s no secret that Utah is my favorite, but this property is going to be something else.”

“When are we going?”

He laughed. “Say the word, my friend, and we’ll take the jet.”

Damn, that sounded like a good time.

Something I wanted.

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But taking off for a weeklong vacation in paradise would only make me question what was happening back at home, just like I couldn’t stop wondering what was happening behind my back right now.

When I looked over my shoulder, my teeth ground together.

My fingers tightened.

“We’ll need to plan something like that soon,” I responded, glancing at Jenner again.

Dominick joined the group and handed me my vodka. “I had them make you a triple.”

“Even better,” I told him, and I immediately brought the drink up to my lips, swallowing several gulps.

As it burned the back of my throat, I glanced at the couple one more time.

The couple.

I couldn’t believe I was actually fucking calling them that.

Not that they’d ever reach that status.

But still, they looked that way at the table.

And as though Macon could sense my stare, his eyes shifted over in my direction, and a smile grew across his lips. His eyelids then narrowed, and he nodded at me.

He fucking nodded, like he was accepting the piece of meat that I’d served to him.

That motherfucker.

I couldn’t be mad.

Not at him or her.

This was my fault.

My doing.

I was the one who had told her that I didn’t think she could handle this. That she was going to get emotions involved in the process of this proposition, and when we finished every lesson, she’d lose it.

A virgin as sensitive as Oaklyn surely needed some tenderness after a guy touched her body, and I’d warned her that wasn’t the kind of guy I was.

But two lessons had passed, and she’d held it together each time.

She seemed fine.

She wasn’t getting attached.

Yet here I was, staring at the two of them, practically snarling when he was only talking to her.

But it was his intentions that drove me mad.

It was his thoughts that I could see as clear as day.

It was the fact that she was mine.

Mine?

Goddamn it, Camden, what the hell is wrong with you?

Oaklyn Rose wasn’t mine.

I didn’t do that kind of ownership when it came to women.

I didn’t do multiple nights in a row.

I did one-night stands.

I did women who knew exactly what I was after. I took care of them, and they took care of me, and it was a mutual agreement.

If I made her mine, that meant commitment.

A relationship.

A level I hadn’t reached since high school, which my sister had recently pointed out.

What the fuck do I know about any of that?

Why am I even thinking about it?

Macon was gazing at Oaklyn again, their faces semi-close. Their speech quiet enough that I couldn’t hear it from over here.

The more I looked on, the worse I felt.

The harder my hands shook.

The tighter my chest became.

Tearing her away from him would do nothing but stir up drama that I wasn’t going to deal with tonight-or anytime soon. I didn’t need that kind of questioning from my sister. I didn’t need that kind of shit from my cousins, considering they all knew I wasn’t the type of guy to want more.

And I didn’t need to make Macon feel like I was ripping her away over some surge of fucking jealousy.

What I needed was to get the hell out of here.

I brought the glass up to my lips and shot back the rest of the liquor, and the moment I pulled it away from my mouth and set the empty on the table, Declan clasped my elbow and said, “I’m going to steal Camden for a second,” and he led me away from the group.

When it was just the two of us, I pulled my arm back. “I was just going to leave and head home.”

“Not until I talk to you first.”

He stood in front of me, eye-level, his stare almost haunting.

I couldn’t imagine what he needed to speak to me about.

Work.

Hooked.

Another one of our cases.

Couldn’t any of that fucking wait until we were in the office?

“Take it from someone who knows … when you think you’re being inconspicuous and not a single motherfucker is tuned in to what you’re doing, there’s always someone in the crowd who’s watching. Who misses nothing. Tonight, because I haven’t had enough of these quite yet”-he held up his tumbler-“that person happens to be me.”

I searched his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, man. There’s no reason to hide in front of me.” He paused. “I saw your face the second you walked into the bar. The way you froze when you noticed your best friend chatting it up with Oaklyn. You ran right over there like a puppy whose owner was paying attention to another doodle. You’re not fooling me.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed. “Oh, it’s bullshit that the entire time you were standing with Ford, Jenner, and me, you ignored almost everything everyone was saying because you couldn’t stop staring at Oaklyn?”

Ignored them?

I had been talking to Jenner.

And then I wasn’t because I was so focused on Macon and Oaklyn.

Had I missed what they were all saying?

This wasn’t like me at all.

Shit.

I exhaled, my lungs so goddamn restricted that the air that moved through was as hot as lava.

“I thought so.” He fisted my shoulder. “I’m not going to tell Hannah. I’ll let you do that on your own when you think the time is right, and then she can tell you all the ways she’s going to neuter you.”