by Gemma James
I eye him. “You got something up your sleeve?”
“Absolutely. I haven’t given you your birthday gift yet.”
“I’m too curious to say no to that.”
The air is crisp but the skies are clear. Cash pulls the collar of my jacket close around my ears, ensuring I stay warm in the soft breeze.
“Feel up for a walk?” he asks.
“Probably a good idea.” I glance down at the jacket covering my flat belly, which won’t be so flat in a couple of months. “Considering all the cake I just inhaled.”
He takes my hand. “You’re pregnant, Jules. In my book that means you’re allowed to indulge every once in a while.” He tugs on my arm until I’m facing him and slides a palm along my cheek, fingers tangling in my hair. He lowers his mouth to mine in a brief kiss that leaves me aching for more. “I can’t wait to see your belly growing with my child.”
“You’ll get your wish soon enough.”
He entwines our fingers, and we take off down the sidewalk toward the waterfront, and it isn’t long before I realize where we’re headed. The Great Wheel stands in the night, rising up in a circle of blue neon glory.
“You did say I needed to see the view at night.” I gesture at the ride.
He smiles. “You remember.”
“Of course I do.” Does he not realize that every moment we’ve spent together is tattooed on my brain?
He ushers me past the ticket booth, and I note the lack of a line. Or a lack of people in general. The pier is deserted, save for a few employees. For a Friday night, even in the briskness of fall, I’d expect to find at least a few people loitering about.
“Are you sure it’s open?”
His grin is secretive and a little smug. “It’s open for us, Jules.”
He pulls me behind him, winding through the roped-off sections marking the non-existent line, and we halt at the front.
“Good evening, Mr. Montgomery. Your gondola is waiting.”
“Thank you.” Cash nods at the ride attendant, and the college-aged guy manning the front lets us pass. Cash gestures for me to step into the gondola first, and the instant I do, my stomach drops in a mixture of nervousness and exhilaration.
This is different from the last one we rode on all those weeks ago. The floor is glass, and four leather seats replace the two benches. I settle into one of the seats facing the skyline, and Cash takes the other. The gondola glides upward, carrying us away from the glimmering water. The lights from the city ripple at the edge of the bay, creating a black mirror for the ferries coming and going.
“It’s breathtaking,” I say, my focus drawn to the emerging skyline. Soft pop music comes through hidden speakers, creating a romantic ambience.
“It certainly is.”
The huskiness of his voice draws my gaze. In the blue glow from the wheel, his eyes have never appeared so liquid—like melted silver.
“Jules, I have something I need to ask you.”
A furrow forms between my brows. “What is it?”
He’s so serious, and my brain is speeding down the roadway of what-ifs, wondering if this could be about the baby, or us moving in together. He hasn’t brought it up again since the day Monica ended up in the hospital, but I know he’s already put the penthouse up for sale.
We reach the very top and come to a standstill in the breeze. Cash shifts, and the gondola swings with the movement. I suck in a breath from the unexpected motion, then I let it out in a stunned huff as he drops to his knees and presents a white box in the palm of his hand. He flips the lid open, and I’ve never seen such a beautiful piece of jewelry. The marquise diamond sparkles in brilliance, centered in a rose gold tulip setting.
“Oh, my God.” I meet his gaze, finding so much hope and love there that my composure shatters. Hot tears fall from my eyes, and I’m pretty sure my heart has stopped beating.
“Will you marry me?”
As if I could ever say no.
“Yes!”
His joy overflows from every part of him; the gleam in his eyes, the press of his lips to mine, the way he winds his arms around me and squeezes the breath from my lungs.
“God, you’ve made me the happiest, luckiest guy on the planet.” He slips the ring onto my finger.
This moment is surreal.
Magical.
And that’s when the lights go out.
I glance up in alarm. “What’s happening?”
“Shh,” he whispers, placing his finger against my lips. “I arranged to have the lights shut off.”
“There’s no one else on this ride, is there?”
“No. It’s just you and me, Jules.”
“You did this all for me?”
“Does that surprise you?”
His question has the power to make me examine my insecurities, and I want so badly to shelf them for good. “I guess it does.”
“It shouldn’t. You’re worth this and so much more. I want to give you everything.” He pulls me to my feet, hands steady on my shoulders as the gondola sways beneath us.
“We’re not supposed to stand,” I say, voice jittery with nerves.
“The rules don’t apply tonight.” He gently pushes me to the other side and bends me over the back of the chair so I’m still facing the skyline, and like he did earlier tonight at the club, he tugs my pants low enough to expose my ass.
Over these past few weeks, Cash has proved himself insatiable. Then again, so have I. Even now, burdened with the memory of coming while his brother watched, I’m aching for the fullness only his cock can give me.
He dips a finger inside me, eliciting a pleading moan from my throat.
“I want you,” I say with a glance over my shoulder.
He smacks my ass. “Don’t waste the view.” Another finger joins the first, slipping in and out in unhurried strokes. “I want you too, but I can’t do what I’m dying to do right now.”
“Why’s that?”
“The lube is at your apartment.”
I don’t even have to ask what he needs lube for. As if to confirm my suspicion, he probes my backdoor with his thumb. Biting back a moan, I dip my head, and my hair falls around my face in thick blond waves as he fingers me.
Then we jolt forward, and I gasp. “We’re returning to the ground.” I try standing again, hands grasping the stretchy material gathered at my thighs, but he spanks me once more, much harder this time.
“Do you want to come?”
“Of course I do! But the attendant will see us.”
He returns my hands to the back of the seat. “The lights are off. No one’s going to see us.”
My teeth chatter—not from the chill of night but from the thrill of reaching the ground with my pants down, literally, while Cash fucks me with his devious fingers. We swing by the attendant, who is standing with his back to us, and take off for another rotation.
And Cash ignites a feverish throb between my thighs for the next few whirls on the wheel. I’m panting, grinding on his fingers, mindless of the attendant every time we pass him.
“God, I need to come.”
“Not yet.”
I’m clutching the back of the chair with such strength and desperation that my knuckles cramp. The engagement ring draws my focus as it catches light from the nearby buildings, and my heart skips a beat. Unable to help myself, I liquefy around his fingers in pulsing waves, and the dam bursts.
“Oh fuck, Cash. Fuck!”
His pace quickens, forcing me to ride out the orgasm until I’ve reach an agonizing level of sensitivity. He lays a final slap on my ass then yanks up my leggings, and we stand for a few seconds, swaying precariously before he drops into the seat with me on top.
I straddle his lap as our breaths come hot and labored. He’s hard underneath me and feverish to the touch, and I can’t help but tempt him further by unzipping him. I take his throbbing cock in my hand and stroke his entire length.
He spews a curse heavenward. “You disobeyed me, Jules.”
“Well, I had foreplay on my mind, but you’ve stolen my control, you little vixen.” With a push to my shoulders, he forces me to my knees and shoves his cock between my lips.
Forget engaging in public foreplay. The only thing Cash Montgomery has on his mind is total conquest. As I work him toward the back of my throat, and his hands become two tight fists of desperation in my hair, I’m not sure who’s the true victor here.
Because I’m pretty sure we both are.
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I hope you enjoy this excerpt of Swallow Me Whole!
She’s my sister’s best friend. The girl I’ve known since grade school. The girl that’s off-limits...and she wants me to teach her how to blow a guy.
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Excerpt
“You better slow down there, Sadie.”
Ashton Levine, with his caring eyes—the kind of eyes that put puppy dogs to shame—attempts to commandeer my sixth…maybe seventh shot? Before his grabby hands slide it out of reach, I toss it back. My eyeballs water as it burns down my esophagus like the last five rounds of tequila did.
Wait. Is it five or eight? Shit, maybe Ash is right. I’ve lost count.
“She’s messed up over something,” Amanda says. Mandy is my best friend. She’s also Ashton’s twin sister. The two of them cage me in, forcing me into the middle of the cozy circular booth the three of us are sharing. I’m a little annoyed by the furtive glances they keep throwing toward each other. Worried glances.
Probably because I called from Club Hoppin thirty minutes ago, bawling into the phone while camped out in a dirty stall in the women’s restroom. That’s where Mandy found me.
So much for not crying over losers.
“Ya think?” Ashton arches an incredulous dark brow at his sister. They’re always at each other’s throats, despite the two of them being closer than most friends. Maybe it’s a sibling thing…or a twin thing. I wouldn’t know since I’m an only child.
I slam the empty shot glass onto the wooden table and turn to Mandy, blinking several times until her porcelain complexion and sleek brown hair come into focus. “Be a best friend and get me some fries?”
With a sigh, she squeezes my shoulder. “I’m on it.” As she rises to her feet, she shoots a warning look at Ashton. “Don’t let her out of your sight. She never gets this drunk.”
“Got it covered,” he says, waving her off.
As soon as Mandy is on the way to the bar, her tall, voluptuous figure lost in the crowd of sweaty bodies grinding on each other, I face Ashton and prop one hand on his chest to keep from swaying into him. Damn, he’s built underneath that black T-shirt. Black seems to be his signature color, and it suits him since he could be the definition of dark, dangerous, and handsome.
Especially with those tattoos. His ink flexes with his biceps, and I follow the picturesque mural of a forest in the midst of a full moon traveling down one arm. I’ve seen him without a shirt, and I know his ink continues its tale on the left side of his chest. I run a palm down his ripped abs, envisioning the masterpiece on his skin.
“Do you live in a gym or something?”
“Jesus.” He removes my hand, but instead of letting go, he twines our fingers together. Holding hands is nothing new for us. We’ve done it for years.
“You’re like a different person when you drink, Sawyer.”
Smarting over his chiding tone—and his use of my last name—I give him a drunken glower and try to pull away. His grip tightens.
“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asks, searching my face with his light blue eyes.
Hell no, I don’t want to tell him. He has a tendency of getting under my skin with his questions and opinions on how I should live my life. Now that I think about it, I can see why he and Mandy fight a lot because he’s even worse with her.
But one glance at the worry pinching his mouth soothes my ire. Ash has always cared about me, and for some strange reason, tonight his concern sends my heart into a fluttering dance. His fingers, still tangled with mine, cause the strangest, most exciting sensation ever, and a wave of heat breaks out on my skin. I haven’t felt this way since I was fourteen and had the biggest crush on him.
Must be the alcohol screwing with my body’s chemistry.
“Can we not talk?” I don’t want to think about Jake or the betrayal threatening to well in my chest again. Telling Ash what happened is more embarrassment than I can handle right now. I avert my eyes and take in the club, enjoying this floaty feeling from the alcohol. The bass of the music vibrates through me, sending me floating even higher. If not for Ashton’s fingers entwined with my own, I could probably just drift away completely.
Not be aware of anything for a while.
“Uh-uh. Tell me what’s wrong.” He leans closer, and worry pulls at the corners of his mouth. His dark brows narrow over his eyes in two severe lines. “You can always talk to me, you know.”
“I know.”
Several beats of the pounding music come and go before he shifts at my side. “I promise, I’ll keep my asshole tendencies to a minimum,” he coaxes, mischief playing on his lips.
God, he smells amazing. His cologne infuses my senses, and I’ve always loved the way he smells—like pure testosterone mixed with a hint of the woods after it rains. I bet he tastes just as good. Unable to help myself, I lower my gaze to his mouth.
“What if I said I wanted you to kiss me?” The question tumbles off my tongue, completely surprising me. Apparently, I have no filter tonight. For once in my life, I don’t give two fucks about what comes out of my mouth.
His eyes widen before lowering to my lips, and as the whirl of music and people and voices around us blast my ears, neither of us move. Maybe my brain is on slow-mo tonight due to the booze because it takes me a few seconds before I realize he isn’t going to press his lips against mine. I’m not surprised, but it’s still disappointing. He lets go of my hand, and hot flames of humiliation lick my cheeks.
Shit. Letting my hair curtain my face, I begin stacking the shot glasses on the table, my fingers trembling. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I’m buzzed.”
Ash slides his arm along the back of the booth behind me, turning his body until his knees graze mine. “It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you,” he says, inching my hair back and tucking it behind my ear.
“What is it, then?”
He slides his fingers under my chin and turns my head toward him. He’s much closer than he was a few seconds ago, making my heart pound too fast and hard. The heat of his touch steals the breath from my lungs.
“You’re Mandy’s best friend.” His teeth latch onto his bottom lip, and he watches me as his fingers brush my jaw in a hypnotic way that ignites searing heat between my thighs. I clench them without thinking.
“She wouldn’t care.” A lie, because I’m pretty sure she’d flip out.
“Okay, you’re my friend.”
“I don’t care, Ash.” Apparently, I’m full of lies tonight. Losing his friendship is a terrifying thought. He and Mandy are all I have.
“I care.”
“Oh.” I’ve got no reply to that. Needing some distance, I draw away by a few inches.
“Sadie.” He shifts again, and the next thing I know, his fingers are threading through my hair. He hovers at my ear, letting out shallow and uneven breaths. “Jesus. Don’t you know how much you matter to me? You have to know.”
I exhale a shaky sigh. “You matter to me too.”
Seconds tick past before he inches back, dark stubble grazing my cheek. His lips part as he meets my eyes, and I hate that I have no idea what’s running through his head as he searches my face,
his sharp blue gaze darting between my eyes and mouth.
“Hell, Sawyer. You couldn’t handle me.” And just like that, he pulls away. “You’re too damn sweet.”
My spirit sinks to my toes. I’m the kind of sweet that doesn’t fall to her knees and suck a guy’s dick until he can’t think straight. The kind of sweet that inspires a man to cheat because even though I want to do all sorts of dirty things, I’m too inhibited to know how.
I’m almost twenty-three-fucking-years old—the same as Ash and Mandy, who are light-years ahead of me when it comes to sex. But me? I must be the last virgin from our graduating class. How pathetic is that?
Thanks to numerous shots of tequila, the familiar shackles of inhibition are nowhere to be found. I glance around the packed bar and spot Mandy talking to a guy she’s been chasing for a couple of months. She works here three nights a week as a KJ, keeping Club Hoppin hopping with karaoke during the bar’s slower nights.
But tonight is Friday, and everyone is busy chasing someone, or dancing, or too drunk to notice Ashton and me in the corner booth. Even the barmaid has forgotten us.
Just do it flits through my mind. Before I allow myself the chance to chicken out, I disappear underneath the table and wedge my body between his legs.
His shocked intake of breath spurs me on. “What the fuck are you doing, Sadie?”
“Giving you a taste of how sweet I can be.” I fumble with the button of his jeans too long, giving away my inexperience and offering him plenty of time to push me away.
But he doesn’t.
Licking my lips, I inch down his zipper. God, he’s free balling it. His long length springs free of the confines of his jeans, and I had no idea he was hiding such a big cock behind that denim.
An erect cock. The brain above his waist might be putting on the brakes, but the one in his pants is ready to go. It curves upward, the soft tip practically staring me in the face.
“Sadie,” he says in a strangled tone, and I think I hear him groan as he sinks his fingers into my hair, holding me still. Holding me back. “You’re drunk, and I don’t mess with drunk chicks.”
“I’m not a chick.” I fight his grasp, and he loosens his fingers without much effort on my part. Because he wants my mouth wrapped around his cock. His ragged breathing is evidence enough. He combs my hair back as I tilt forward, and I flash back to what I witnessed earlier through the ajar door of my boyfriend’s—ex-boyfriend’s—office. Blondie hadn’t just used her mouth; she’d fisted the base as she took him between her lips.