“See?” Pika says. His demeanor is ridiculously triumphant as if Ava had just granted him permission to ogle her rather than simply saying she would tolerate them interrupting us. But he soon finds cockiness isn’t something she’ll tolerate.
“As long as you keep your eyes up here,” she says, gesturing to her own eyes.
Pika’s eyes snap up and away from her chest and he freezes.
“Damn, she called you out,” I say with a laugh.
“We’re good,” she says. “Right?”
“Uh, yeah. For sure,” Pika says.
“You can call me Hiro,” Hiroto says, extending his hand. He’s of Japanese descent, tall and obscenely handsome. He’s never had trouble with women, though he has no interest in settling down.
Ava smiles and takes his hand before sitting to my right. When I slide the beer over to her, my fingers brush against hers. I can almost hear the crackle of electricity that passes between us in that moment.
“No tequila tonight?” she asks with a smirk. “Probably for the best.”
I can’t help but flash back to last night when I licked the spilled tequila from her inner thigh. Shifting, I marvel at how easily she can turn me on.
“Ah, so this isn’t your first date, then?” Hiro inquires.
I meet Ava’s eyes, unsure what I should tell these guys about the no strings thing we’ve got going.
“Date,” she offers, “is probably too formal a word. We just met yesterday. And we’re hanging out a bit before I go back to LA.”
Pika clutches at his heart dramatically. “Oh, that’s tragic.”
“What is?” Ava asks with a laugh.
“You’re just here on vacation?”
“I am. I leave the day after tomorrow.”
“And then what? A long-distance romance?” Hiro asks.
I punch him in the arm. Hard.
“Fuck, man,” he whines and rubs his bicep.
I should feel bad for that. But I’d rather cut him off with a painful punch than let Ava feel like this was some sort of setup, as if I planned for my friends to be here to play up the romance angle between us.
Ava takes a long pull on her beer and I see her eyes bouncing from me to Hiro and then to Pika. When her eyes circle back to me, she quirks an eyebrow.
I shrug and shake my head a little, trying to dismiss the incident and any suspicion it might have raised.
“So, what do you do over there in LA, Ava?” Hiro asks, helpfully changing the topic.
“Um,” she starts, clearly uncomfortable.
“We’re not talking about all that real world stuff, guys,” I say quickly. “Ava’s here for a true vacation from everything.”
“That go both ways?” Pika asks.
“What?” I ask.
“Does she know about you? And your traitorous history of—”
“Fuck off,” I say slowly, emphatically.
Pika had been grinning with his intention of telling her all about how I used to be a local but became a traitor by leaving. Now his smile slowly fades with his confusion over me shutting him down.
Ava leans forward and pats his hand. “Yes, it goes both ways. No real world stuff from either of us. Just the here and now.”
He gets momentarily lost in her gaze before looking down at her hand on his. We all watch as she slowly moves it away from him. I realize that there really is something magnetic about her. Something that not just I feel. She’s beautiful but there’s more to her. You just want to be near her.
“Oh, shit!” Hiro says and drops his head into his hands with elbows on the table.
“Hannah?” Pika and I both ask, craning our necks to see around the bar.
“Who’s Hannah?” Ava asks.
“Shh!” all three of us guys say.
I spot Hannah’s platinum-blonde head outside of the open-air bar as she moves down the sidewalk with a crowd.
“She’s gone,” I declare. “You’re okay.”
Ava laughs. “Let me guess,” she says. “Bad breakup?”
“It would be if she’d accept that we’re broken up!” Hiro says.
“What? How does that work?”
“She’s kind of psycho, Ava,” I tell her. “Hiro’s broken up with her four times, and she just keeps ignoring him or acting like they’re on a break.”
“Is she so bad?” Ava asks.
“She was sweet at first,” Hiro says. “But then the Fatal Attraction stuff started.”
“She killed your bunny?” Ava keeps a straight face as she references one of the famous scenes from the movie about an affair gone seriously bad.
The only reason I saw it as a twelve year old is because Hiro’s dad had a VHS copy of it and we’d heard there was nudity. Turned out there wasn’t enough of that to make it worth our while, but we watched until the end hoping to see more. Instead, we got a scene where the family bunny had been boiled to death by the psycho would-be mistress. That kind of thing leaves an impression on a kid. But it’s not a movie I would have thought Ava would know. Turns out she’s full of surprises.
“No, no dead bunnies. Yet,” Hiro says.
After a beat, we all break out laughing at the absurdity.
“No, she just has a habit of showing up almost anywhere I am—work, surfing, bars. She’s even slipped into bed with me in the middle of the night. And every time, she acts like it’s perfectly normal. No matter how I try to get her to see that we’re broken up.”
“Breakups can be tricky,” Ava sympathizes.
“I had a girl break up with me once,” Pika says, “because I made fun of the trash TV she watched. I should have known her love of the Kardashians and Vanderpump Rules was a red flag.”
We all laugh.
“I had a girl break up with me because I brought her the wrong drink,” Hiro says. “I thought I was being all gentleman-like by getting her an iced tea.”
“What was wrong with that?” Ava asks.
“Apparently she hates iced tea. And said I should have known that. That me bringing her a drink she hates meant that I didn’t know the first thing about her,” he says with a shake of his head.
“How long were you together?”
“Two and a half glorious weeks.”
Ava laughs. “Yeah, I’d say that’s asking a bit much. The guy I was with last, we were together for two years. But he had no idea what I wanted.”
This confession intrigues me and I lean forward to ask her, “And what do you want?”
She hesitates, clearly regretting saying anything. But she must dismiss her reservations given the fact that we’re not meant to see each other again. It’s always easier to be forthcoming with people you don’t know well.
“I want,” she says slowly, “to have my career and a fairy-tale romance.”
Before my buddies can make some smartass remark, I ask, “Why can’t you have that?”
“I can,” she says. “Just not with my ex. Because I realized last Christmas that he didn’t think I was capable of that.”
“Is that what he said?” Hiro asks.
A wave of emotion passes over her face, but she quickly shrugs it off. “Pretty much. He basically said I’m not marriage material. And so, I walked away.”
“Whoa,” Pika says. “Like a badass.” He holds up an imaginary drink since he still doesn’t have one and toasts her.
She can’t mask the hint of sadness in her face. Still, she gamely raises her now almost empty bottle to toast with him.
“It was actually a good thing,” she continues. “It made me realize I’m not willing to settle for anything less. Women are always told they don’t have to compromise, that they can have it all. I’m willing to test that proposition, to put myself first and stay true to what I really want.”
I sit back in wonder at this statement. She’s a rare creature. Someone to admire, especially as I’m still trying to come to terms with how to stay true to myself after losing my way for so many years.
“Yeah, well, your boy
Ford knows all about walking away from things,” Pika says with a laugh.
I ignore him, giving Ava my full attention. “You deserve nothing less,” I tell her.
She watches me for a moment, searching my face, I’d guess, for some hint that I’m mocking her. But there’s nothing but earnestness in my expression. Despite the fact that I don’t really know her, I can’t deny this overwhelming desire for her happiness.
When she smiles, her eyes sparkle. That flash of sadness has disappeared. “Right?” she says with a laugh.
I lean in and kiss her.
I kiss her like she’s my girlfriend.
Like she’s the one.
Because at this moment, that’s what our connection feels like. I don’t stop to think that our time is slipping away. It feels too good to pretend that’s not the case. Especially when she kisses me back with the same intensity.
“Okay,” Hiro says loudly. “We’ll take a hint. Let’s go, Pika.”
Pulling away from Ava just enough to give the guys a nod goodbye, I then whisper to her, “Let’s get out of here, Hula Girl.”
12
Ava
Once we’re back in Ford’s truck, I suggest we go to my hotel and he readily agrees. While he drives he tells me about growing up with Pika and Hiro. I listen, enjoying the stories of misadventures he shares as I play with the hair at the nape of his neck. We’re both relaxed and the twenty-minute ride passes by easily.
“Go ahead and use the valet,” I tell him as he approaches the entrance to the Ritz-Carlton. “I’ll have the cost charged to my room.”
He gives me a wink. “It’s okay. I do have a little money.”
“I just meant—”
Pulling my hand up to his mouth, he kisses the back of my fingers. “No worries. It’s all good.”
The valet opens my door before I can respond. I hadn’t meant to offend him. I just assumed he’s not exactly rolling in dough, not with the spare way he lives, and so I didn’t want him to feel obligated to take on the cost of parking himself.
He meets me at the entrance to the hotel where a doorman greets us with an aloha.
“Are you hungry?” I ask as I lead him to my suite.
“Starved,” he replies.
When I glance at him, I see that he’s not talking about food. He’s got lust in his eyes. I feel a spark of the same desire. My heartbeat quickens and a rush of warmth travels through my core and settles between my legs.
We come to my suite and I slide the key card into the slot at the door and he follows me inside.
“Nice room,” he says.
The suite has a separate living area with views of the ocean along with a balcony. The floors are hardwood, and there’s both a comfortable couch and a separate small dining table. It’s an insanely expensive room, and not the kind of indulgence I’d spend my own money on. I’m suddenly hyperconscious of how this makes me look.
I turn to face him. “I, uh, normally wouldn’t pay for a place like this,” I say. “I—”
“I’m not judging you, Hula Girl,” he says with a crooked smile.
“It’s just, I didn’t grow up with this kind of … luxury.”
He leans in and kisses me. “A self-made woman,” he says in between more kisses. “I’m impressed.”
My discomfort at appearing like a wealthy tourist taking advantage of a local fades away when he holds my face in his hands. He kisses away any other thoughts. We fall naturally into a rhythm, our tongues doing a synchronized dance.
Earlier, he had promised to fuck me hard, but that doesn’t seem to be his plan now. Not with the way he’s taking his time in kissing me.
Just kissing me.
Kissing me until I’ve completely surrendered to every little nuance of the way his lips and tongue command my own. I’ve had glimpses of this kind of sensuality from him before, but this is the first time it’s been sustained. This doesn’t have the same raw intensity as our first time at his place or even earlier in his truck. Those times had been all about need. We’d aggressively taken from each other in the heat of the moment.
It’s different now. Purposeful, as if he wants to enjoy and prolong every second.
There’s something that both thrills and terrifies me about that.
I pull away from him, trying to get a handle on what I’m feeling.
As if he can see my struggle, he uses fingers under my chin to lift my eyes to meet his. “Don’t get lost in that head of yours, honey,” he says.
I attempt a playful arch of an eyebrow. “No?”
“No. Because I want every bit of you right now.”
He emphasizes this by grabbing my ass in a firm squeeze. This gets us back to the surface-level sexual gratification I’m more comfortable with. But when he twists me around quickly and pulls my hair away from my neck, planting slow kisses on the sensitive skin there, we’re back into slow sensual mode.
I soon find, however, that this is the kind of speed I can get lost in. He’s taking his time, yes, but he’s doing it in such a way that he’s building layer upon layer of arousal in me. Trailing his mouth over the back and side of my neck, his lips and tongue graze against me gently at first. But then he kisses become hungrier, more possessive. He uses his teeth with each kiss as if wanting to consume me. He slips the straps of my dress and bra off one shoulder, and I try to turn to him, anxious for the heat of his mouth on mine but he’s not done devouring me yet. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he pulls my head back with enough force for me to let out a gasp as he winds his greedy kisses over my shoulder, neck, and ear, sucking and biting my skin along the way. In a tease, he uses his other hand to briefly squeeze my breasts at the same time that he quickly brushes his lips against mine. He’s got all the control and I’m completely in his thrall, melting into him as he shows me just how well he can make me his.
And then he pulls away, leaving me panting and desperate for his touch once more.
“Bedroom?” he says.
I’m ridiculously eager to lead him to the other room.
The bedroom has the same hardwood floors and stunning views of the ocean. There’s a king-size bed with sumptuous white bedding and forest-green accent pillows, a fine chest of drawers, and a settee. The lamps on either side of the bed provide soft lighting.
He sits on the side of the bed and gives me a crooked grin. “Nice view.”
I’m standing in front of him with the windows behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see that the whitewash of waves is just visible under the waning full moon.
“Not that,” he says.
I turn back and see that he’s leaning on his hands, watching me appreciatively.
“Oh,” I say softly.
I realize this is my cue to undress for him. Though my dress could fit in at a club, it’s actually made of soft jersey cotton and is easy to pull off over my head. I hadn’t brought sexy matching panties and bra sets on this trip, but at least what I’m wearing is decent enough. The black cotton thong and black satin demi-bra on my otherwise naked body seems to please him, though, because he sits up.
“Yes, I really like the view,” he says.
“This?” I ask with mock innocence as I turn a slow circle for him.
“Hell, yeah,” he says in a moan and pulls me to him so I’m standing in between his legs.
Using the back of his hand, he strokes the swell of my breasts and I shiver. His touch is gentle and slow, as if reveling in the smoothness of my skin. He uses his other hand to pull, first one strap and then the other off my shoulder. Leaning forward, he presses his mouth to the spot between my breasts at the same time that he reaches around and unclasps my bra. I let him pull it away from me completely and hear it drop to the floor.
He alternates between lavishing his mouth and tongue and teeth on one nipple and then the other, stirring a tightening in my core. I loosely wrap my arms around his neck and relax under his touch, taking his lead of just being in the moment and letting my arousal build without forcing the nex
t move.
Finally, when I’m just about at the point where I can’t take it any longer, he pulls away. “Come here,” he says, his voice raspy with desire. He pats the bed next to him and then quickly unbuttons his shirt just enough to pull it off over his head.
Now I’m the one enjoying the view, looking at his bare, chiseled chest. His pecs and abs are fitness model level of defined. I want to trace every sexy ridge with my tongue, but he has other ideas. He gently pushes me onto my back, kissing me deeply before pulling away so he can again look at my body. His gaze wanders slowly from my eyes downward, lingering on my breasts, hips, and legs. Then, he trails his hands over the same path, moving reverentially. He’s so deliberate in his touches, taking in every part of me, just like he said he wanted to do.
I realize what this feels like: worship. He’s worshipping my body. Worshipping me..
“Ford,” I whisper, reaching for him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says.
I smile. “So, do something about it.” I want to unleash that animalistic passion we’ve had for each other up until now. Up until he decided that this time would be different. That this time would be about making love. It somehow still feels too intimate to have sex this way. We shouldn’t be connecting like this. We’re nothing more than a vacation hookup … aren’t we?
He rubs his cock over his shorts. “Believe me, I will. I’m so hard for you right now.”
But instead of ripping off my thong, he gently slides it off my hips and down my legs so that I’m completely exposed. He runs his hand up my inner thigh and lets his fingers dip into my folds, making me whimper as he finds me slick with desire. I arch against his hand, aching for more. My clit is swollen and so sensitive to his touch. When he reaches up with his other hand to pinch my nipple, I catch my breath. It wouldn’t take much more for me to come.
He can sense as much because he murmurs, “Jesus.”
“I need you,” I tell him, pulling at his shorts, “inside me.”
He nods and slides off the bed. In one swift movement, he manages to push down both his shorts and his boxer briefs, exposing his very hard cock. It looks too big for me to have ever taken in my mouth the way I did earlier. I want to reach out and stroke the glistening head of him, but he moves out of my grasp as he grabs a condom. When he climbs back onto the bed, he’s lost his patient deliberation because he moves immediately between my legs, sliding deep into me. We both moan at the sensation as he fills me completely.
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