Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  And if I wasn’t, did I care?

  “You taste so damn good, darlin’,” I growled against her mouth, biting and sucking on her lower lip as I wedged my thigh between her legs.

  Her strangled moans were my approval as she began to ride my leg, grinding against me with unabashed need.

  I kissed along the line of her jaw until I got to her earlobe, pulling it into my mouth and sucking.

  Prying my eyes open, I made sure we’d made it a good distance from the hot dog shack and there were no other people close enough to us on the beach to see. As soon as I confirmed it was clear to give her what she needed without anyone else seeing what was mine, I latched my mouth on to her neck and sucked hard.

  “That’s it, darlin’. Ride my leg,” I commanded softly.

  She whimpered my name, my other hand sliding up under her sweater, tugging down the fabric of her bra so I could fill my hand with the swollen weight of her breast.

  I wanted to taste so many parts of her—I wanted to taste every fuckin’ inch—but I couldn’t. Not here. So, instead, I feasted on the sweet delicate skin of her neck as my fingers plucked and rolled her nipple, making her grind harder against me.

  “Oh, Mick,” she purred into the subtle crash of the waves in the background.

  Her response to desire was so honest—so new and pure, it took everything in me to control how I needed her. To control the thoughts of how she would feel, the sounds she would make, when I filled her with my cock.

  “I wish it was my tongue between your legs again, darlin’,” I rasped, hearing her breath hitch and feeling her body move frantically against mine. “So damn sweet, I’ve thought of eatin’ nothing but you since that night.”

  My dick swelled angry and thick against the front of my jeans, desperate to be inside the woman that was rubbing against me. Each time she rode over my thigh, her hip pressed and rubbed the length of my cock to the point where there was a good chance both of us were going to come inside our pants on this beach.

  “Mick…” she gasped my name, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to the tip of my dick and making my balls seize.

  There was nothing I wanted to hear more than her say my name the moment she wrapped my cock inside her beautiful body.

  “Come all over my leg, darlin’,” I encouraged angrily, feeling her heat and wetness soaking through my pants.

  I needed her to come before I did… or before I died.

  Her breath caught, and I covered her mouth with mine, swallowing down her scream as she came, her body crystallizing for one beautiful moment before melting against me.

  “That’s it,” I murmured roughly against her lips, feeling her drag in air as her body came back down from its high.

  I held her against me for long moments, savoring her soft warmth and unsteady breaths before I began to right her clothes and slowly pull my leg back to support my own unsteady weight.

  “You alright, beautiful?” I asked, tipping her chin up to mine.

  The smile I was rewarded with was beyond brilliant. “I think I’m more than alright…” And as though to confirm, her eyes drifted down from mine to inspect herself, but it was my pants that caught her attention.

  “Oh, no…” She reached out and brushed her fingers over the damp spot on my jeans, a subtle monument to her pleasure. “I-I’m sorry.”

  She looked up at me guilty, and my mouth hardened, determined to nip this in the bud before she ever apologized for something like this again.

  “Darlin’, the last thing I’ll ever be angry about is seein’ your desire all over me,” I declared, clutching her tight.

  She sucked in a breath and shivered.

  Before I could say anything else, she licked along her lower lip and her eyes deepened into a hazel haze that suggested whatever was coming, was going to be the end of me.

  “Can we go back to your apartment?” she asked, her voice thick and throaty, and it felt like honey coating over my cock.

  I froze.

  Slowly, I peeled back further from her, drinking in the vanilla scent of her skin that mixed with the salty ocean air. One hand cupping her cheek, my eyes narrowed and scanned hers.

  “Jules…” My voice was pulled taut, like a balloon stretched to the limit with the desire it was able to hold back without exploding. “I can’t… if I take you back there—” I broke off, trying my best to not have my next words come out like a caveman. “Darlin’, I feel like I need you more than I need to breathe right now.” I let out a strangled groan. “If I take you back, my cock is going to end up makin’ a home inside that sweet pussy of yours, and it’s goin’ to stay there all night. I wish I could be a gentleman and tell you I can control myself, but around you… like this… I can’t. And I won’t lie, darlin’… I don’t want to either.”

  She was the Delilah to my Sampson.

  My strength and my weakness.

  My woman.

  Her lips crushed mine for a split second before she whispered, “I know.” She met my gaze, and in that moment, she was, for sure, the most certain one between us. “I want to go back to your apartment, Mick, because I want you.”

  Fuck.

  With a feral growl, I claimed her lips, roughly devouring every inch of her mouth to make sure there was no trace of doubt hidden inside. When I pulled back, her face was flushed and panting and wanting me all over again.

  “Alright, let’s—”

  We both jumped slightly as my phone began to buzz in the pocket of my jacket, trapped between our bodies.

  “Shit,” I swore under my breath and reached for the damn thing, either to turn it off or throw it in the ocean. But as soon as I pulled it out, I caught the name on the screen and my stomach dropped.

  Not again.

  “What’s wrong?” Jules asked. “You can answer it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized hoarsely and slid to accept the call.

  “Miles,” I bit out my brother’s name.

  There were a lot of reasons my brother called me—work, family, random shit. There was only one reason he called me at this point in the evening. And it was the reason I knew I had to answer.

  “Hey, Mick. It’s Benny.”

  I bit back a curse. It had never been bad enough that Benny had to make the call.

  “What did he do?” I ground out, wincing as I could hear my brother in the background yelling, “Mickeyyyy!”

  “Sorry to do this to you, man, but I tried cutting him off and he climbed over the bar.” I could hear how much Benny regretted having to call me now, but he knew I was the only one who could get my brother to leave quietly on the nights he decided to obliterate himself. “Can you come get him?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yeah. I’ll be there in fifteen. Will he be okay until then?”

  Benny chuckled. “I handcuffed him to a booth. He’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled a goodbye and hung up, returning to the moment to see Jules’ concerned face.

  “What happened? Is he okay?”

  I let out a strained laugh. “Honestly, I have no idea. Physically, he’s fine. Well, he’ll be hurtin’ tomorrow, but he’ll be fine. Emotionally… I wish I knew,” I admitted.

  I thought that moving here would be a good thing, especially because Miles had been the one to suggest it. But instead of getting better, things had only gotten worse.

  “I’m so sorry.” She reached for my hand with both of hers and pulled it to her chest.

  I met her stare. “I want you to know that if this were anyone but my brother, I’d have chucked my phone in the ocean rather than ruin this night with you. But he’s hurtin’, and I can’t leave him now.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “But I’ll make it up to you this weekend, darlin’,” I swore.

  Her eyes dropped. “I have to…the Snow Ball is this weekend at the resort and I have to be there,” she murmured. “And I know you’re leaving for Colorado for the holiday on Sunday…”

  I reached f
or her hand. “I’m goin’ to make it up to you, you just wait.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, the first thought I had was to invite her to come with me and spend Christmas in Aspen with me and my family. But I held the suggestion back. Now wasn’t the time to ask, and I needed to check with Laurel or Gwen or someone to make sure it wasn’t too soon to suggest something like that.

  “What’s wrong with Miles?” Jules changed the subject before I could as we ambled off the beach.

  “He won’t talk about it,” I admitted defeatedly. “All I can do is show him that I’ll be there for his sorry ass until he does.”

  Using my one hand that was clasped in hers, I raised them both to my lips and gently kissed every finger I could find.

  “I’m sorry, darlin’. Sorry to ruin our night.”

  “Don’t apologize, Mick,” she said softly, a small smile fluttering over her face. “The way you take care of the people you love is one of the things I lo—admire most about you.”

  The slip was small and swift, but it was enough.

  I wanted nothing more than to tell her that I felt it, too. But now wasn’t the time. Not when I couldn’t tell her the way I wanted and follow it up with showin’ her. Not when I had to take her home so I could deal with my brother that once a week decided to drink himself into an early, belligerent grave.

  Just like my desire wouldn’t let me stay away from her, it wouldn’t be long before I couldn’t stop myself from admitting just how hard I’d fallen for her—probably right after I asked her to spend Christmas with me.

  Jules

  “You look very beautiful tonight, Julia,” Mr. Couronne muttered next to my ear; I did my best to maintain an appropriate distance between our bodies while we danced in the middle of the floor, but his tight grip made it difficult.

  Rock Beach’s Snow Ball was in full effect and the main ballroom in the resort brimmed with guests of the highest caliber, a show of wealth and fashion in a fabricated Winter Wonderland.

  Evenly spaced around the periphery of the room were real evergreens, decorated with white and silver tinsel and matching ornaments, and faux presents nestled at their base. They were the one thing that I’d suggested a few weeks ago that my mother had actually agreed to. Real trees. Even if the snow clinging to them wasn’t real, at least the rich winter wood scent wasn’t faked.

  Varieties of white flowers reached up tall from silver-brushed vases, drawing the eye to the white birch branches and twinkle lights cascaded across the ceiling, bathing the ballroom in a cool glow.

  Lively conversation created a heartbeat underneath the classical music coming from the string ensemble stationed in one corner of the room, complete with the embellishment of a harp and a flute. Servers in silver waistcoats floated through the crowd with festive cocktails and small, themed appetizers.

  My eyes drowned in the guests mulling around the dance floor—a sea of sugar plum fairies escorted by stuck-up suits.

  “Thank you,” I said firmly, hoping the level of my voice would prompt him to move his face farther away from mine; with each note of the sonata, it seemed like Mr. Couronne drifted even farther into my space.

  I caught my mother’s eyes from the corner of the room where she stood with my father and the mayor of Carmel Cove, her tight smile and nod of approval notching the noose around my heart even tighter.

  It had only been one week, but it might as well have been a decade for the wedge it felt like had been driven between me and my parents, between my past and my future… between what I had and what I wanted.

  I was trying so hard to wait until the deal they were working out was finalized—something my mother alluded would be settled tonight. I wanted to know they had peace of mind about Rock Beach before I went and told them I was stepping away from it.

  But with each passing minute, I felt more like a stranger in the place I once called home.

  My dress billowed around me as we turned once more. The blue-gray lace and chiffon concoction, another calculated gift from my mother, had been laid out on my bed when I came home earlier.

  “Your father said that you enjoy spending time with your cousin? The one who owns Ocean Roasters?”

  I barely managed to keep my feet from tripping over the unexpected question.

  “Yes… Laurel.” I nodded. “You’ve heard of it?”

  I knew Roasters coffee was pretty well-known around these parts and they did ship across the country, but I was surprised a man like Mr. Couronne knew of our family-owned, single location coffee shop.

  His small smile was laced with something I couldn’t quite read. Anger? Annoyance?

  “I stopped there on my way in for a cup of coffee,” he explained away. “How is it going for her? He’d mentioned something about a break-in.”

  I wished the song were over. I wished that the invasion of my personal space was the only thing I was still worrying about. No matter how smoothly he brewed the words coming out of his mouth or topped them off with a smile of casual interest, I’d lived in a world of façades long enough to hear what went unspoken—a subtle interrogation that was danced around as expertly as the waltz we were currently engaged in.

  “Very well,” I insisted. “Everything has flourished since that unfortunate event, and I’m so happy for her.”

  A displeased smirk ate away through his features, and I’d officially crossed the line between uncomfortable to concerned, being in his arms.

  Thankfully, the dance ended a few moments later, and I pulled away with a small curtsy and murmured thanks.

  Holding my skirt up from the jeweled flats I’d managed to keep hidden, I looked for my parents, deciding to tell my mother I needed some air. This life I’d lived for almost thirty years had rapidly dwindled into something I could no longer bear.

  As I moved around the man who would become my parents’ partner, an imprisoning grip shackled my wrist and spun me back toward him.

  “Sir,” I said with a polite firmness. It was always better to start with the assumption that such an action wasn’t perpetrated with the intent to offend. “I need to go speak to my parents. Thank you again for the dance.”

  His smile twisted. “I’ll escort you.”

  My lips parted to protest, but then realized it wasn’t worth the fight. If he wanted to walk me over to where I would be free of him anyway, that was fine. The last thing I needed to do tonight was create a scene.

  His hand placed my fingers in the crook of his elbow as we wove through the crowd to where my parents stood.

  “You two looked lovely dancing out there,” my mother gushed, the anticipation in her eyes as she looked between me and the man chaining me to his side, made me realize the full extent of her intents.

  She was trying to set me up with Mr. Couronne.

  My chest contracted violently. How could I have missed it?

  I tried to swallow but the lump in my throat was too large.

  I missed it because my heart had been so fully and deeply engaged elsewhere, I’d been blinded to her matchmaking, viewing myself as already taken.

  It made sense. If he was investing in the resort, my marrying him would maintain Vandelsen control through both my individual rights to the business but also as his spouse.

  I swallowed down the nausea that churned in my stomach.

  “I’ve always prided myself on the exceptional quality of the things I surround myself with, Mrs. Vandelsen.” His eyes dragged over me. “Having your daughter on my arm is no exception.”

  I shuddered.

  On his arm. Like I was a watch or another gold ring for him to show off.

  My mother beamed like what he said was everything she ever wanted to hear. For her own daughter, to be spoken of as some kind of sparkly trinket.

  “She is certainly a wonderful representation of Rock Beach tonight and will be for you, going forward.”

  Her eyes twinkled, and it felt like a shot to my heart.

  A representation of Rock Beach… beautiful, pr
istine, bejeweled… nothing but a pretty pawn.

  The room began to shrink around me. I couldn’t even focus on what other poisonous compliments were exchanged between the two of them as I crashed into the rock bottom reality of how my mother saw me—how she’d raised me.

  My eyes scanned frantically around the room. The lights… the crystals… the shimmering splendor… they’d blinded me but now, I could finally see there was nothing real in this world for me to stand on, let alone hold on to.

  “I’m sorry,” I heard myself mutter. “I need some air, if you’ll excuse me.”

  I yanked my arm away from Mr. Couronne, a little too forcefully by the way I stumbled back.

  Distantly, I heard my mother’s appalled gasp at the rudeness of my abrupt behavior.

  The noise of the room faded behind the heavy beats of my heart. It didn’t race. If anything, it felt like it slowed dangerously, allowing me to see as the pieces of my past, my upbringing, slowly come crumbling down around me.

  Run. Run. Run, it demanded inside my chest.

  My slippered feet carried me swiftly for the doors to the balcony. Most of them were locked in order to keep the guests and the party inside, however, I knew the one set behind the musician stand had been left open to let in some fresh air.

  I didn’t stop until I reached the banister, my hands gripping the rail as I gasped heavily of the cool, California night air.

  Tears pooled in the corner of my eyes.

  I couldn’t do this anymore.

  I thought I could. I tried to—for their sake. But that night when Mick saved me from Blackman, had put the first crack in my crystal world. I tried to ignore it. I told myself it would get better. I told myself one crack wasn’t enough to ruin the lifetime I’d built here. But I was wrong.

  The crack had spread like a fracture in ice, weaving, winding, and weakening through every surface, every corner of this lifestyle until it was impossible to ignore that there was nothing of value, no foundation, underneath my crystal castle.

  “Julia!” I spun around at my mother’s hiss, my father trailing hotly on her heels.