by Vi Keeland
“That sounds like fun. Is it still operating?”
“Not sure. I can call Marguerite.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“You woke up filled with questions this morning, didn’t you? Maybe I should fill you with something else to give your mouth a rest.”
She playfully smacks at my abs. “Seriously.” Gripping her lower lip between her teeth, she studies me for a moment. “What happened between you and Miles?”
It’s a question I’m not expecting. And, in all honesty, I’m not even sure it’s a question I know the answer to. “I don’t know. As we got older, he sort of just pulled away. Some people see the glass as half full, he sees the glass as half empty. And thinks it’s half empty because I drank it all on him.”
“When did you stop getting along?” She pushes up onto one elbow.
“When Miles was in middle school.” I still remember the first time he lashed out at me as clear as day. “There was a boy that was picking on him. Miles was smaller than the kid, but that didn’t stop him from running his mouth. The kid challenged him to a fight after school. By the time I got there, Miles already had a bloody nose and black eye. I stepped in front of Miles, caught the kid’s punch, twisted his arm, and brought him to the ground. The kid was out of shape and I was five years older … it didn’t take much.”
“And Miles got upset with you for stepping in?”
“He thought I did it to make him look bad to our dad. He actually accused me of arranging the whole thing with the kid who was kicking his ass when I showed up.”
“Why would he think that? It sounds like a perfectly normal event. A brother stepping in for another brother in a fight. At least it was in my school.”
“I have no idea. But that was when it started.”
“Do you think …”
I cut her off. “I think you’ve had your fill of questions. Time to fill you with something else.” I pull her naked body up mine, lifting her until her neck is within reach. I nuzzle her, cupping her breasts as I tighten my hold.
She moans. “That’s not fair. I have more questions.”
“There’ll be more question and answer time later if you’re good. I want my cock filling you now.” I suck my way up to her ear and nibble on her lobe, something I’ve come to learn makes the sexiest tremble run though her. I grin when I feel it seconds later and then spend the next hour not answering any more questions.
The pool, the beach, the dining room table … hell, the bathroom yesterday on the Jolly Rogers. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was leaving no room for her not to think of us when she comes back to Barbados with the show. Today is the guesthouse. It’s where the four remaining contestants will be staying. I’ve already warned Miles that the main house is off limits for anything intimate, feigning respect for our father’s home. The same home I’ve spent four days claiming Kate in as many places as humanly possible.
“It’s beautiful. It’s so cozy in here. Not that the main house isn’t magnificent, but this house …” She looks around. “It just feels homey for some reason.”
I smile, remembering Dad telling me the story of the first time he brought my mother here. He’d bought the place as a surprise and had it completely gutted and remodeled, putting only the best of everything into the main house. When he told her to pick which room she wanted to furnish as the master bedroom, she picked the yellow room in the guesthouse, instead of one of the grand rooms he’d spent a small fortune having redone in the main house.
“You should take this room when you come back,” I say without explaining why as I show her the bedroom with the yellow painted walls.
“It’s the prettiest room in the house.”
I continue with the short tour of the inside and then walk her onto the back deck. There are a few people lingering on the beach in the distance to the west. This portion of the estate is the end of the public property line; the No Trespassing signs just before the beach that aligns with the main house warn that this is private property.
The large deck off the back of the house leads to a long and narrow boardwalk that trails over the sand dunes and down to the beach.
I sit on the padded lounge chair and watch as she looks out to the beach with a dreamy smile. I wish today wasn’t our last day here.
“It may not have the pool, but the view is just as beautiful,” she says.
“You’re right. It is.” I fold my hands behind my head and take in every last drop of beauty before me. We’ve been here for four days and I intend to enjoy the last twenty-four hours doing my favorite thing in Barbados. Her.
“Take off your clothes,” I say.
“You just want to christen the house.” She turns from the water to set her gaze on me.
I shake my head.
“No?” She squints suspiciously.
“I want you right out here.”
She turns back to look at the beach. It’s empty now, but people wander into this area once in a while. “What if someone comes?”
“Isn’t that the point?”
“You know what I mean.” She rolls her eyes.
“Take off your clothes,” I repeat, this time with more of an edge to my voice.
She looks back at the beach again, then to me. “Bossy.” She slips the loose bathing suit cover-up she’s wearing from her shoulders and lets it fall to the ground.
“Untie the top.”
She hesitates—there’s a conflicted look in her eyes—but then she does that thing that almost made me lose my mind the first time I met her. She squares her shoulders, squints to assess me and, with a devilish grin tempting at her lips, she slowly reaches around and unties her top.
I slip my hand into my board shorts and expose my already hard cock. Her eyes follow my hand as I firmly grip at the base, then stroke the full length leisurely up and down. She’s ten feet away but I can feel her touching me just by the intensity of her stare. Watching her watch me is insanely erotic.
“Take off the bottom,” I say as firmly as I can muster, my voice already showing signs of strain.
This time she moves with less hesitation. She shimmies her bikini bottom down her sexy tanned legs and steps out boldly. Jesus Christ. I’d hoped to give her a vision she wouldn’t soon forget, but the vision before me will certainly be scorched into my memory for a long time to come. The sun at her back highlights her silhouette, leaving an angelic glow around her.
I watch as her eyes momentarily break from following my stroke to meeting my stare. She holds my gaze, her blue-green eyes darken with lust, and then I almost lose it when her tongue hungrily licks her painted lips.
“Come here. I want you to ride me. Face the ocean. Eyes open. Ride my cock until your vision goes blurry.”
Her breath audibly hitches, but she comes to me. I take her mouth in a kiss before turning her and directing her legs to straddle me. Her perfect heart-shaped ass facing me, her legs shake as she hovers, ready to take me inside of her.
My fingers curl into her sides as I grip her waist to guide her onto me. She lowers herself slowly, taking me inside of her a little at a time, inch by inch until her ass is pressed firmly against me. She doesn’t even have to move—the tightness of her pussy clenching me, the vision of her shapely ass and the sound of her labored breathing has me on edge instantly. The urge to fill her and mark her skin is so intense I can barely see.
“I need to come inside of you,” I grunt out and lift her, taking over the rhythm she’s set. I slam her back down on me hard and grip her hair when she moans.
“C. .C … Coop …” she whimpers. “Please.”
“I love being inside of you,” I groan, pumping up into her with full hard thrusts that meet her each time I guide her down. Harder and harder. Her hips circle and gyrate, taking in every inch that I give her until we’re both no longer able to hold back and we release together, her chanting my name over and over until she has no voice left to give.
Sated, we lie naked, wrapped in each other’s
arms until it’s time to get ready for dinner. I watch from the doorway as she turns back and takes one last look out at the ocean. I hope this afternoon is what she remembers when she’s back here.
“You ready to go?” I stand behind her and kiss her shoulder. The white strapless sundress she’s wearing exposes her glowing tanned skin, it’s hard to keep my mouth off of her.
“Definitely.” She turns to face me and kisses my lips. “That guy out there gives me the creeps.”
“What guy?” I scan the beach but see no one in sight.
Kate turns to look back and shrugs. “Guess he’s gone. Who goes to the beach fully clothed in the afternoon anyway?”
chapter thirty-one
Kate
I’m afraid to open the door. I’m not worried about what I feel changing, it’s everything around us that changes once I step outside again. Five days of bliss. It isn’t just my body that I gave over to the man sitting beside me, somehow he’s managed to steal a little piece of my heart. And stolen would be right word—since it isn’t supposed to be available.
“Don’t go in,” Cooper says with a strained voice. We’re in the underground parking garage at the studio. Miles is already here. His car is parked two over from us.
“I wish it were that simple.”
“Doesn’t need to be difficult.”
I exhale a deep breath. We’ve had this argument already, the last time only yesterday on the plane ride home. It doesn’t end well, and I hate to walk away from him feeling unsettled. He’s been up front since we met, he doesn’t want me to return to the show. I know he’s serious when he says he’ll take care of everything. But I can’t let him do that. It’s my family, my mess, my responsibility. My father lived his life borrowing from one person to pay another. It was a vicious cycle that needs to be broken once and for all. I’m certain what I’m doing is right for my family, yet it doesn’t make it any easier for me to open the cocoon we’ve ensconced ourselves in the last week.
“I’m afraid returning to reality is going to change things between us.” My voice is low and I can’t hide the crack of worry that shadows my words.
“Are you returning to reality or about to leave it?”
Our first day back starts with one of Miles’s production meetings in the conference room we’ve met in dozens of times before. I take a deep breath as I cross the threshold into the brightly lit room, my eyes combing over the full cast of characters already mingling. With Ava sent home before hiatus, I’ll likely be keeping to myself a lot over the next two weeks.
Flynn is in the far corner of the room, chatting with Jessica. She’s leaning toward him, her hand pressed to his chest, fluttering her long thick eyelashes. He spots me the minute I enter and smiles, quickly excusing himself from the conversation.
Jessica turns to find the distraction that has lured Flynn’s attention away, and our eyes meet. If looks could kill.
“There you are.” Flynn kisses me on the cheek. “I was starting to wonder if you were coming back.” That makes two of us.
“I think some people might be happy if I didn’t.” I smile and discreetly tilt my head in Jessica’s direction.
“Well, certainly not me.” He takes both my hands and pulls back to look at me. “You look incredible. I guess you got to relax a bit on the break finally.”
“Umm. Yes. How was your break?” Feeling guilty already, I change the subject.
“Good. Except …” He leans in to whisper in my ear. “I missed you like crazy.”
“All right everyone, let’s get started,” Miles’s booming voice saves me from having to respond.
Everyone takes a seat around the table. Flynn chooses the seat next to me. So, naturally, Jessica saunters over and grabs the seat on the other side of him.
Miles steeples his fingers as he begins to speak in the front of the room, reminding me of Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. I study his face while he speaks, looking for signs of Cooper in his profile and mannerisms. He’s nice looking, physically fit, there’s definitely a physical resemblance. But it’s the way he commands authority that is vastly different. His is through intimidation and fear, whereas people seem to defer to Cooper out of respect and admiration.
After a fifteen-minute lecture, Miles walks around the room, distributing two-inch-thick packets containing information on our shooting schedule for the next two weeks. He stops and makes small talk with some of the contestants as he hands out the binders.
“What a beautiful tan you have, Kate. It looks like you’ve already spent a week on a tropical island.”
I swallow the water I’m drinking down the wrong pipe and choke. “Umm … thank you.”
“You okay?” he asks, although I don’t find true concern on his face. Instead I could swear I see something sinister in his eyes. Here comes the paranoia I’d forgotten all about.
“You okay?” Flynn asks, with something different in his eyes than Miles—sincerity.
“I’m fine,” I wheeze, my eyes watering. Miles has already moved on and is busy talking to Jessica’s cleavage.
“If you need mouth-to-mouth, I got you covered,” Flynn whispers, adding a smile that reveals his killer dimples.
His playfulness, along with his flirtatious charm, actually puts me at ease a little bit. Flynn and I spend the next two hours alternating between playing tic-tac-toe and hangman as Miles spews his vision for the next segment of the show. I seriously could have summed up the two-hour lecture in less than thirty seconds. Flaunt it if you got it, kiss the bachelor frequently with lots of tongue, and the camera loves catfights.
We break for lunch and, surprisingly, I feel a lot better than when I came in this morning. I’d forgotten how at ease I feel around Flynn. He’s a great guy, he really is. If I weren’t crazy about Cooper, a relationship with Flynn wouldn’t be such a stretch. Even though he’s pretty much the polar opposite of Cooper. He’s free spirited and easygoing, where Cooper is intense and driven. Even his look is everything Cooper isn’t—tattooed, long hair, tattered jeans and tall and lanky. Couple the whole package with a voice that can make women from seven to seventy swoon, and it’s no wonder the women vie so heavily for time alone with the bachelor.
“Wanna grab a bite?” Flynn asks close behind me as I exit the door.
“Sure, but there’ll probably be a tack on my seat when I get back, courtesy of our castmates.”
“No worries. I’d be happy to sweep the seat to protect your delicate ass from damage.”
The afternoon session is even more painful than the morning. Miles spends the entire time coaching us on “how to seduce the camera.” Halfway through, Flynn and I decided we should start a little drinking game—where every time Miles says the word “intimate,” we’d drink. I stopped counting at sixteen, figuring I’d have alcohol poisoning by then anyway.
Toward the end of the day, Miles announces we will be having one more group date before we leave for Barbados the day after tomorrow. We’re all going to the Film Critics Awards Banquet. Flynn and the four contestants are going to announce the nominees and winner for best supporting actor.
Flynn and I are the last ones to leave. Outside, the parking lot is nearly empty, and he insists on waiting with me for Sadie, who, of course, is late picking me up. We kill the time laughing as he entertains me by singing a rhyme he made up to mock Miles’s coaching advice.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for making a waste-of-time day totally bearable,” I say to Flynn as Sadie finally pulls up.
“No problem. Anytime I can put a smile on that beautiful face isn’t a waste of time for me.” Flynn leans down to kiss my lips and it takes me a minute to realize what’s about to happen. Shit. We haven’t even been put in a private romantic situation yet. I panic, feeling silly for doing so when the kiss feels almost innocent, but I turn my head just in time as Flynn’s lips come down to find mine. Flynn catches the corner of my mouth. I, on the other hand, turn my head and catch the glare of Cooper Montgomery.
chapter thirty-two
Kate
I’m sorry. I shot off a text as soon as I buckled into Sadie’s car. I wasn’t surprised Cooper didn’t respond right away. But it’s hours later now and he’s still silent. I visualize the moment over and over in my head. The almost-kiss on the lips, turning my head to find Cooper standing right there—eyes tempered with hurt. His curt nod and rapid departure leave me feeling unsettled.
Anxiously, I check my phone every five minutes until the minutes turn into hours and it becomes painfully obvious I won’t be getting a response. I attempt to clear my head with a rare trip to the gym, followed by two glasses of wine. But all it does is blur my thoughts and leave me wondering if everything I was so sure would work out when we were in Barbados was even real.
Maybe if there would have been a scene I’d be able to sleep, but the unknown is killing me. I stare at the television, waiting for something to take my mind off what his lack of response means. It doesn’t work. Around one in the morning, my lack of self-control wins out and I shoot off another text. Can’t sleep. The bed is empty without you next to me.
My phone rings ten seconds later.
“Hey,” I answer, uncertain as to what to expect.
“It’s intolerable,” he says with a breath of frustration.
“Sleeping alone?”
“Seeing him touch you.”
A few seconds of silence pass as I internally debate how to respond.
“I’m sorry.”
“You looked happy.”
There’s an ache in my chest. “I am happy. You make me happy.”
“Then I should be the one on the receiving end of your smile.”
“You are.”
“I wasn’t this afternoon.”
There’s no way to get through this conversation without a few bumps and bruises. “He’s a nice guy. I like him … as a friend. Even if we weren’t in this situation, I have guy friends—ones I’d occasionally share a smile with.”