As I watch, it throbs.
“Fuck. Lily, just knowing you’re watching me…”
I run my hands down his abdomen and trace the happy trail. Looking him in the eyes, I wrap my fingers around his shaft. It’s hot to the touch, the skin soft but so hard underneath. “Do you like that I’m seeing you?”
His response is through clenched teeth. “Yes.”
I start to stroke, up and down, like I’ve heard about. Like I’ve seen. He’s so big that I’m tempted to use two hands.
“Tell me,” I whisper to him. “Tell me what to do.”
Hayden reaches down and puts his hand around mine. He squeezes, showing me how much pressure he prefers. “Like that,” he murmurs.
“Wont it hurt you? If I grip you this hard?”
He shakes his head once. “No.”
But he looks like he's in pain. His head falls back against the edge of the sofa, and I can see the muscles in his throat work as he swallows. I feel too warm, too aware, too needy. Knowing I'm the one making him feel this way… it's intoxicating. I've only had one glass of wine but I feel high off this feeling.
I grip him tightly and stroke slowly. Hayden's breath is coming fast. He's watching me through hooded eyes and I love the glazed, adoring gaze. I feel powerful. For once, I can make Hayden as unsettled as he makes me, and just as vulnerable.
I let my other hand travel further down. There's so much of him I want to explore, but I don't know how much he'll let me.
I tug his boxers down further to free the heavy weights below, cupping them in my hand.
Hayden's eyes widen in surprise and I quickly release them. “Sorry.”
“No, no…” He finds my free hand and gently puts it back. I cup them again, tugging lightly. “Fuck, Lily… how do you know how to do this?”
“I don't.”
“You do,” he breathes, reaching over to smooth my hair back behind my ear.
I smile at him. “As long as I’m making you feel good…”
“Oh, you are.”
I nestle closer to him and begin to stroke in earnest. Hayden’s breath is coming fast, and his eyes are half-closed. It’s like I’ve bewitched him.
“Faster,” he murmurs, eyes closing entirely.
So I speed up. I’m gripping him tight, pumping away, my own desire rising in time with his. I want to know what happens at the finish line. I want to hear him.
His hardness is throbbing in my hand, and the heavy balls I’m cupping contract suddenly.
“Shit.” His hand covers mine, his hips jerking. “I’m close. Lily, I don’t—”
“I want you to,” I whisper. I want him to lose control entirely. I want to be the one who causes it.
Almost involuntarily, his hips buck once, as if he’s thrusting into my hand. I feel electrocuted by the sight—of him so completely undone. I’ve never seen him like that before. I stroke with both my hands, fast and hard. Hayden’s hand creeps up around my waist, pulling me closer, almost by reflex.
Hayden lets out a muffled groan. “Lily…”
“Yes,” I murmur, hoping I’m encouraging. “Come for me.”
He erupts in my hand and I watch, transfixed, as he spills across his stomach. Hayden groans, low and dark.
I keep stroking, watching his face in awe. He looks raw, naked and undone and so painfully beautiful.
He pulls my hand away softly. “Sensitive,” he murmurs.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, Lily.”
I lean against his shoulder and peer up at him. He looks exhausted and spent, a faint smile playing on the edges of his lips. He wraps an arm around me without looking and I rest my hand on his chest, feeling the beating heart below.
“I feel pretty proud of myself,” I say.
“You should. Lily… that was amazing.” He lets out a tired chuckle and reaches to run a hand over the bracelet at my wrist.
“Just wait till I do that to you,” he murmurs.
Nerves and heat chase one another inside of me at the words. His smile is wicked, face close to mine. I can’t help but kiss him again—and for a few minutes, both of us get lost in each other once more.
Finally, I rest my forehead against his.
“Does this mean we stop avoiding each other now? And the inevitable?”
Hayden shudders against me. “I couldn’t even if I tried, Lils. And trust me, I’ve tried.”
16
Hayden
The present
The wide desk feels unfamiliar under my hands. Grown-up. Different.
My laptop is familiar—as is the work I was doing. Ones and zeroes flash before me. I don’t do this often anymore, but when I do, I have to make sure it’s perfect. My former brother-in-arms, now turned business partner, is an absolute genius with computers. Me… not so much.
“Concentrate,” Finn says on the phone. “You’re slipping.”
I swear at him. “No, I’m not.”
“You’ve been out of the game for too long.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“All I hear are excuses.” I watch as he completes a loop, finishing off the coding with an eloquent flourish. The screen goes black for a moment before it returns to the graphs and numbers I’m more familiar with.
“All right. Now this I know what to do with.”
He laughs. “Maybe it’s good that we have our respective fields, huh?”
“Yes. Let’s stick to that,” I say, finding the numbers I need. “We’re pulling in considerable capital from the East Coast now. You saw that I got Hornby Defense involved, too. With their backing, we don’t need to take in any more outside investors.”
“Yep, I read that email.”
I shake my head at Finn through the webcam. “You could respond to them once in a while, you know. So I know you’ve actually read them.”
“Yeah, yeah.” In the silence, I hear the clacking of his fingers against the keyboard. “So, how’s home treating you?”
“Good.” I pause for a moment. “Weird.”
“Being back?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s why I never go back. Saves me the trouble.”
“That’s a coward’s way out.”
He scoffs. “That was your way out up until a month ago, so quit playing.”
He’s right, of course, as he is about so many things. Finn has always been a straight shooter. There’s nothing he won’t call you out on, no bullshit he’ll tolerate. It’s why he’s excellent at security software. He finds flaws and points them out ruthlessly, designing systems to combat all forms of security breaches. The last system we designed together just hit the market, and it’s drawing in considerable cash.
“At least I got my head out of my ass,” I say, knowing it’ll draw a chuckle. “If you ever feel like getting some sea breeze…”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “I know where you live, Cole.”
“Is the update complete?”
“Yes. Go play with your childhood friends.”
“Fuck off, Finn.”
He laughs. “Talk to you later.”
“Yeah. I’ll update you on the shareholder meeting next week. And please answer my emails.”
“Yes, boss,” he says dryly and hangs up.
I sigh and close my laptop. There’s never a shortage of things to get done. Becoming an independent contractor and entrepreneur meant becoming my own boss, and there was a part of me that relished it. But it also meant I could take on as much work as I wanted. The more hours I put in, the more money I make. And my pile of cash would grow, and grow, and grow.
I might never be able to buy respectability in the eyes of the Paradise Shores elite, but I could buy wealth.
And wealth is power—in all languages.
I look around my fancy home office. I hadn’t lied to Lily. The house had come fully furnished. Only, I wasn’t renting. I bought it.
It had been a crazy decision. And nobody knows—not even Gary. I want the house to be a surpri
se. A place for him to retire one day. Paradise Shores had become his home as surely as it had mine, after nearly twenty years in the area and in the Marchands’ service. I also know that he couldn’t live in the beach house indefinitely—not once he retired.
He’d done so much for me. It had taken me a few years of adulthood to fully realize just how much. With a child’s eye, it had sometimes seemed self-evident that he was my caretaker. My mom was dead and my dad a drunk—of course my uncle took me in.
But things aren’t that simple, and I know now that a weaker man wouldn’t have been as generous or as strong as he had been.
But the house would also come as a surprise to Lily and her family.
The thought of her made me groan.
Oh, Lily.
I’d screwed it up when she came to my house a few days earlier. I hadn’t been able to stop myself from getting too close, from asking what I wanted to know.
She was kind to tell me her family had missed me. I’m sure Parker had, but I couldn’t for the life of me imagine Henry or her parents giving me a second thought.
Lily, though. She had. I’d suspected she would, and knowing I’d hurt her by leaving was painful. It was a wound I’d made worse rather than better by kissing her.
But damn, what a wonder kissing her was.
The sweetness of her lips, the way she’d leaned into me. The soft skin of her leg where my hand rested. The kiss was painful in its carefulness, in the way I had to hold back ten years of want and need and sorrow.
It had been an innocent kiss, but it had meant so much more. And Lily knew that too.
Hell. I knew why she’d left so abruptly—I understood it. I’d stirred up things I should have let lie. Damn it, Cole.
The strategy of this operation was simple: ask forgiveness. That was my goal in returning. If I could have her friendship, if I could just have her in my life, it would have to be enough. I knew well enough that I could never ask her to be mine again. I’d hurt her too badly for that.
But now I’d gone and messed up the prospect of a friendship, too. It’s been two days and I haven’t heard a word from her.
Everything in me tells me we need to talk. Knowing she’s in this town and not seeing her, not going to find her, feels like torture. She’s like a magnet to me. Always has been.
But my fear wins. Without time to think, she might push me away. And if she did… It would kill me.
At the same time, I can’t just leave it, either. So I do the only thing I can think of. I drive to the large arts and crafts store just outside of Paradise Shores. Lily had said she still painted, but her eyes had betrayed her. It might not be a complete lie, but it wasn’t entirely truthful, either.
And the Lily I’d known had only ever wished for one thing, every birthday and Christmas. More art supplies.
I ask one of the employees to help me pick things out, and by the end, I leave the store with a giant basket filled to the brim with brushes, acrylics, rolled-up canvas and clay. It’s an assortment of everything I know she likes. Or liked, once upon a time.
She’s at work when I stop outside her little beach cottage, so I place the basket on her front step. I scribble something on a little card and place it on top, wedged in between a set of fan brushes and a sponge.
And then I drive away, feeling satisfied. It doesn’t matter how many times I say sorry—sorry for everything, for the other night, for leaving her ten years ago, for not staying in contact. It’s just words, and actions speak louder.
I just pray I didn’t screw everything up by kissing her.
17
Hayden
Hayden, 18
Lily is sitting in my lap, her hair a curtain around me, her smiling lips against mine. “Just stay.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Hayden…” She kisses me again, and I forget what we’re arguing about. That happens a lot these days. My hands trail down her back, finding anchor at her waist. She’s as familiar as the back of my hand and still as stunning as the dawn. Kissing her never stopped striking me silly.
I pull back, tipping her head so I can reach her neck. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that’s where she was the most sensitive.
Well… the most sensitive part I could get to while she was clothed. I feel her pulse flutter under my lips.
“Your grandma hates me,” I say. “If she wasn’t invited for Friday night dinner… then maybe.”
“That’s not true.”
“Lily, it’s absolutely true.”
Her breath is coming fast. “Okay, maybe, but so what? You’re one of us.”
Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. I might be accepted among the younger Marchands, and tolerated by their parents, but I was an absolute outsider among the extended family and their friends. The cuckoo in the nest.
“Come anyway,” she whispers. “Come for me.”
“Lily…”
“I won’t enjoy myself if you’re not there.”
For Lily, I’d brave the wolves and the devil himself.
"I'll come by around dessert," I murmur. “Just to say hi."
She hums in pleasure against my lips. “Promise me.”
"I promise."
“Good.” She kisses me again, achingly soft, her hands playing with the hair at the back of my neck. “I barely see you these days. I can’t spend the evening without you, too.”
“Mmm.” I know she dislikes my job on the fishing boat. She never says it, of course, but it took me away from Paradise Shores for hours on end, not to mention the occasional overnight trip. It sometimes got windy or stormy, too, and I knew she hated those times, imagining all the things that might happen at sea. My girl has too good of an imagination.
But it paid well. So well, in fact, that I’d more or less decided to skip the idea of the military or community college altogether. I could stay here and work for another year.
“What about Parker? Won’t he suspect something?”
Lily shakes her head. “We’ve managed to keep it a secret for weeks and weeks. Why would he?”
“I don’t hang out with him as much anymore,” I whisper, shifting so I can touch my lips to her collarbone. “He’s already asked me what’s taking up all my time. Twice.”
Lily’s fingers undo the first two buttons on her blouse. “Lie.”
I grin and watch as her bra is slowly revealed. White, prim cotton with a lace trim. Unbearably sexy. Her skin is tan from the summer sun, lightly sprinkled with freckles, her hair framing her beautiful neck. I kiss down the slopes of her breasts, toying with the idea of just getting the top and bra off her. But we’re short on time, and I don’t want her to ever feel rushed or used with me.
“I guess I’ll have to,” I say, thinking about Parker. It’s understandable that she doesn’t want him or her family knowing about us. It would only complicate things.
“Mmm.” Lily bites her lip, her eyes twinkling as she leans back to pull off her shirt. “Whoops?”
I shake my head at her, but my hands are already moving to the fastening of her bra. “We have very little time, baby.”
“Five more minutes.”
“All right. And then I’m out of here before your parents get back.”
She moves closer to me, a soft sigh of pleasure escaping her as we meet, skin to skin. “That’s a deal, Cole.”
In the end, I have to run, but it’s worth it. The scent of her hair and skin cling to me throughout the evening, reminding me of what I’ve somehow gained. Lily is too good for me—that’s true—but for the time being, I’ve decided to let myself dream that we are possible.
She wants me, just like I want her.
She likes me, just like I like her.
And for the first time in a very long time, I’m happy.
And if she wants me to show up to her family’s place for dessert… well, I’ll damn well try. I take a shower. I shave and get dressed, wearing the one button-down I own over my worn-out chinos. The only nicer shoes I ha
ve are my old boat shoes, inherited from Henry, but they’ll have to do.
Lily’s parents have always been kind to me. A reserved kindness, true, but still. I can’t imagine they’d be happy if they knew… But maybe they’d come around. But her grandmother, Evelyn? The first time she met me, she had asked if I was the pool boy. I’d been thirteen years old.
And the Marchands didn’t even have a pool.
She would hate me with Lily.
I pause on the lawn behind their house. The dining room is well-lit—I can see it from here. There has to be at least fifteen people in there. The whole clan and all of the extended relatives.
Great.
I usually go in through the back door, by the kitchen, and I head there now. The last thing I want is to open the front door and arrive smack dab in the middle of mingling Marchands in the foyer.
I reach the back door and it swings open on quiet hinges. I’d oiled them just two weeks earlier so they wouldn’t make a sound when I snuck out of from Lily’s bedroom.
I wipe off my shoes on the doormat and straighten the button-down. It’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve worn something like this. The house smells like pumpkin soup and cinnamon, and I close my eyes and just breathe. This house has never felt like home to me. It’s never been uncomplicated. But one day… one day, maybe I could have a home like this for myself.
“Are you sure?”
The voice is softly spoken and cultured. I recognize it immediately. Grandma Marchand herself, right in the kitchen next to me. So much for a stealthy entrance.
“Yes. I think it’s been going on for a while now,” Eloise says.
I push back against the door. The last thing I want to do is interrupt the two matriarchs while they’re conspiring. I know very well that they hold my potential fate with Lily in their hands.
“Hmm. Not surprising, I suppose. Teenagers will be teenagers.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re worried, you and Michael?”
There’s a faint, heartbreaking pause as Eloise Marchand deliberates. “Well, he has no real college prospects. That’s a shame, too, because the boy is bright.”
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