The Trade (Coastal Rivals Book 1)
The Trade: Chapter 15

I didn’t realize it could be like this.

That sharing a bed with a girl, with no intentions other than to spend time together, could feel so fucking satisfying. It’s not just good, it’s intoxicating.

And Jade—she’s fucking flawless.

She embodies all the qualities I could ever want in a woman. Her humor never fails to make me laugh, her sarcasm is refreshingly honest, and her passion is infectious. She’s determined, a hard worker who refuses to give up.

And God, is she sexy. To the point where it’s a challenge not to be perpetually turned on around her.

The strange thing is, when we first met, I don’t think I truly appreciated what was in front of me. Now I know, without a doubt, she’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.

Of course, there’s no denying the physical desire between us. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to taste every inch of her. This morning, I wanted nothing more than to press her against the wall, shove her panties to the side, and slide my aching cock between those perfect, sun-kissed thighs.

But I didn’t, despite the undeniable fact that we both wanted it.

I have to admit this is all new territory for me. Doing things properly with a girl, taking the time to build a genuine connection—it’s unfamiliar ground.

But with Jade, I want it all. I want the deep, meaningful conversations, the excitement of dating, the inevitable clashes that come with two strong personalities. And then, once all of that’s in place, I’d very much like to fuck her until she can’t remember her own name.

But it’s true, I want that underlying foundation to be there between us. I crave the emotional connection, the depth that stems from truly knowing one another. Because this time around, I’m not just in it for the thrill. This time . . . I want something that’s built to last.

By the time I leave Jade’s apartment, the digital clock on my car dashboard reads just a few minutes past two in the afternoon. I’m in a mad rush, with only a few hours left to map out our date.

“Bro, I need your help,” I call out, pounding a quick rhythm on Cam’s bedroom door.

When he finally swings it open, he’s standing there in nothing but a towel slung low on his hips, a toothbrush poking out from the corner of his mouth. He squints at me, a single brow arched in silent query.

“You just now getting up?” I venture to ask, working to suppress my smirk.

He removes the toothbrush from his mouth and holds up a finger, signaling for me to wait. After a moment, he reappears wearing a pair of worn-in boxers.

“I went back out after we hit Lucky’s,” he says, a trace of a sheepish grin playing on his lips. “A couple of us ended up at Dante’s Nightclub.”

“Ah, got it,” I say, nodding my understanding. A night at Dante’s can definitely take its toll. “Anyway, I’m taking Jade out on a date tonight.”

His brows shoot up, skepticism etched across his features. “Really?” I return his doubt with a definitive nod. “Alright, then. Atta boy.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I clap my hands together, determination coiling in my stomach. “I need your advice, though. Where should I take her? I’m not exactly an expert in this whole dating arena.”

He levels me with a dubious look. “You’ve never been on a date before?”

“I’ve been on dates,” I clarify, “but I never really cared about the details—where we went, what we did. They were more of a stepping stone to . . . other activities, if you get my meaning.”

His eyes narrow for a moment before realization dawns. “And this isn’t?”

“Fuck no, it isn’t,” I say, my tone dead serious. “I want her to enjoy herself, to remember this night.”

“Right, so what’s she into?”

“Well, she’s a football fan, studious, a writer.” I mention the tidbits I’ve gathered about her. “Also, a huge fan of New Girl. We just binged a few episodes this morning.”

“She seems down-to-earth. Relaxed.” He rubs his neck in contemplation. “Maybe a chill spot like a diner or sports bar? Maybe follow it up with something fun, like putt-putt golf or batting cages?”

“Camden Scott,” I drawl, a grin spreading across my face. “You’re a certified genius.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He dismisses me with a wave, a smug smile taking over his features. “Just add it to the list.”

“Appreciate it, man. I’ll keep you posted on how it pans out.”

He tosses me a casual salute. “Good luck tonight.”

As I retreat to my room, my stomach contracts with an uneasy feeling. No, wait, it’s more like . . . a slow fluttering in my gut.

God forbid, I think I’m actually nervous for tonight.

I can’t remember the last time I felt like this about a girl. It must’ve been when I was sixteen. The sensation, surprisingly, is invigorating. It’s a spark of change, a different rhythm in my predictable life.

Whatever it is—this uneasiness, this thrill—all I know is that I really fucking like it.

Hours melt into late afternoon, and Jade and I are setting up at the batting cages. I gave her a few options, and this is what she picked. Honestly, she seemed pretty fucking stoked about the idea herself.

It’s a good thing my girl is so easy to please.

I sit back on the metallic bleachers, my legs stretched out, one foot propped atop the other. My gaze is drawn to Jade, who stands poised by the plate. She looks so fucking cute in that oversized helmet, wearing nothing else but her tiny little T-shirt and shorts. Her dark curls cascade down her back, kissing the soft curve of her spine.

As she shifts her weight, digging her heels into the artificial turf, the muscles of her calves tighten. The sight sends an unfamiliar pang shooting through my chest, only to settle lower—a sudden, gut-clenching pull that stirs beneath my belt.

I’m eager to wrap her curls around my fist, to slide my hands up her legs, to touch the soft place between her thighs. Every little piece of her seems to be calling my name. I nearly jolt out of my seat a moment later, her body perfectly pivoting as she makes contact with the ball.

“Oh, God,” I groan involuntarily. “This was a seriously bad idea.”

Her gaze flickers to me, her face a picture of adorable confusion. “Why?”

“Watching you swing that bat . . . well, it’s a huge fucking turn-on.”

She looks back at me, a flicker of a knowing smile playing on her lips. “So, watching me do this—” She swings again, the sound of the crack ricocheting through the air. “—makes you hard?”

“Jade, everything you do makes me hard.”

She drops the bat, leveling me with a seductive stare. “Theo.”

“Uh-huh,” I choke out.

“We should go back to my place now.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her bold proposition. “Hang on. Aren’t we supposed to have a proper date first?”

“But this was a proper date,” she argues, her tone playful. “I picked up a bat, hit some balls. Had an absolute blast.” Her smile is cheeky and utterly convincing. “Now, I’m ready for the next part.”

“But we didn’t even have dinner yet,” I point out, my voice almost a whine.

She waves her phone with a triumphant flourish. “That’s what takeout and modern technology are for.”

I tilt my head back, staring up at the sky as I contemplate my next move. “Fuck it, you win. Let’s get out of here.”

Her sigh of relief is almost comical. “Thank God.”

She takes me by the hand as we run to my car, laughing and stumbling in our haste to get home. I wrap an arm around her waist. She brushes her fingers against my hips, my shoulder, my bicep as she clings on for dear life.

Every soft touch sends a jolt of anticipation straight to my head, stopping for just a lightning-quick moment inside my heart. The engine rumbles to life, and her hand finds a comfortable spot on top of my thigh. While lust courses through my veins, there’s a deeper warmth that settles around me now.

I know it’s still early days, but I can truly see myself falling for this girl.

It’s more than just wanting her. It’s the little things—her soft smiles, the spark in her eyes when she talks about her favorite show, the way she handled that fucking baseball bat. The easy intimacy we’ve built from spending just a few short moments together.

I’d thought this kind of realization would send me into a tailspin, but instead, it’s like reaching a calming oasis. Despite the weight of what I’m feeling, there’s a reassuring sense of rightness to it.

The drive back feels quicker than expected, and soon we’re parked outside her apartment. She gives my hand a gentle squeeze, a silent promise of what’s to come.

“Home sweet home,” I murmur past the gravel in my throat.

Her gaze meets mine, filled with expectation and desire. And there’s an open invitation there, too—an offer to dive deeper, to truly understand the girl who’s turned my world on its head.

And damn, am I ready for it.

By the time we make it up to her floor, the anticipation is nearly eating me alive. She unlocks her front door with shaky hands, dragging me down the hallway and into her bedroom.

“Shan’s not home tonight,” she whispers in my ear, a subtle tremor in her voice.

Her words barely register before I have her pinned against the wall, my fingers threading gently through her hair. I’m kissing her before I can think, my mouth seeking hers with a hunger I can’t control.

Oh God, the taste of her is so fucking good.

Her soft lips brush against mine, our tongues gently stroking one another. My grip tightens in her hair as I deepen the kiss, reveling in the soft heat of her mouth. And when she bites down on my lip, it’s almost too much.

I pull back, letting out a groan as I trail my hands over the sweet curve of her breasts, her hips, her ass. She rocks against me, seeking friction, seeking release, as she presses her heat into my thigh.

As my fingers slide under the hem of her T-shirt, I look for a sign of approval in her eyes. The moment she nods, I peel the fabric off her, revealing the lacy white bra underneath. The sight of it against her flushed skin is more intoxicating than any drink I’ve ever had.

She arches her back off the wall, reaching behind with one arm to unclasp the hook. I stifle a groan as she shrugs the tiny, delicate straps away from her shoulders.

Oh, fuck.

My mouth waters at the sight of her perfect tits. Barely more than a handful, her plump teardrops are marked by rosy, red nipples. Goddamn, the real thing is so much better than the fantasy inside my head. I reach up to cup them with both hands, gently squeezing until she’s moaning beneath me.

Then, I lower my hands, fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts. “Can I?”

“Please,” she rasps, inching forward to attach her lips to my neck.

At her request, the scrap of fabric joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor. And when my own shirt follows suit, there’s an undeniable look of appreciation in her eyes.

“Mmm,” she hums, her gaze roving over me like a physical touch. “You’re so damn hot.”

She presses her thumbs through my belt loops, tugging me back against her. There’s a thin layer of sweat beading on my forehead. My heart beats wildly in my chest as she unfastens the button on my jeans, yanks at the zipper, and drags them down over my hips.

“I want you inside me,” she breathes out, her gaze falling to the bulge straining against my boxers.

“Let me taste you first,” I demand, and her breath catches in her throat.

Before she has a chance to respond, I sink down to my knees and pull her panties down along with me. The sight of her laid bare to me—slick and wet—nearly makes me lose control.

“Jade, your pussy’s fucking perfect.”

Her response is swallowed by a gasp as I bury my face between her thighs, flattening my tongue against her slit. She moans, soft and breathy, while I slowly lick my way back to her clit. And when I press my lips around the sensitive bud, she cries out in pleasure.

Her fingers rake through my hair, and she rocks against my mouth. I thrust one finger inside of her. Then two. She’s impossibly tight, and hot, and so fucking wet. I pump inside of her, and I can’t help but imagine my pulsing cock pushing into that perfect heat.

Instead, I focus my attention on her clit, sucking until I sense the unmistakable signs of an impending orgasm. I pull my fingers away but keep up the pressure with my mouth, aiding her through the surge of her release.

She sinks back against the wall, panting and spent, riding out the tidal wave of pleasure I’ve given her.

“That was so fucking hot,” I tell her, my voice a rough whisper against her slick skin.

She simply hums in agreement, her eyes heavy with satisfaction, chest rising rapidly while she catches her breath.

“Need a minute?” I chuckle, brushing a stray hair from her face, pulling her against me.

“Uh-huh.”

“Take your time, baby.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “We have all night.”

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