Seaside Sunsets

by Melissa Foster

  “Don’t stop,” he said quietly. “That felt nice.”

  You have no idea how nice. He held her gaze, and she wanted to sink into the sensual well of emotion in his eyes and bathe in it.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this.” Why was she whispering? They were alone in the dark. The other cottages were dark. Surely no one could hear them. But she wanted quiet with Jamie. She wanted quiet and dark and—

  He shifted his weight and brought his right arm around her back, then gathered her hair and drew it over one shoulder.

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m not usually like this either. I can’t stop looking at you, and it’s taking all of my strength not to do what I really want to do.”

  “You don’t even know me.” Shut. Up. Shut. Up.

  He shook his head. “But I’d like to.”

  Her pulse quickened. Her hand was still pressed to his chest, and she had no plans on moving it anytime soon.

  “Wh-what do you really want to do?” She pressed her lips together, unable to believe she’d asked and so thankful that she had. Bella must be wearing off on her.

  He drew his brows together. “Stay here all night and talk to you. Kiss those amazing lips of yours and see if you taste as sweet as you seem. Bury my hand in that gorgeous hair of yours—” He slid his hand beneath her hair and fisted his hand in it, angling her head back just a little. “And set my lips on your neck.” He pulled her in close and pressed a kiss to the base of her neck, which zapped her brain cells.

  He opened his mouth, his soft lips sending shocks of desire through her body. His tongue—Oh God—slid along her skin as he kissed his way to the tender spot below her ear. She didn’t even know she was sensitive there, but she was trembling against him. “And taste you until you’re squirming so badly you have to kiss me back.”

  His whisper stole her breath. She could barely think past the desires coursing through her. He took her earlobe between his teeth, then sucked it into his mouth, and she worried she might die on the spot, it was such a rush. She fisted her hand in his shirt and a heated whisper tumbled out.

  “Kiss me.”

  Their eyes met for a split second before he lowered his glorious lips to hers and she got her first taste of him. She felt the first stroke of his tongue all the way to her toes, soft and unyielding at the same time. His mouth was hot, every stroke of his tongue, eager and hungry. He deepened the kiss, and it sparked an urgency for more that she didn’t understand but didn’t have any desire to fight. She threaded her hands in his hair, earning her a deep, masculine groan from deep in his lungs, which vibrated in his chest as he pulled her closer. She’d never been kissed like this before. Had no idea a kiss could consume her like this. How could anybody kiss like this and ever move on to anything else? Their kiss eased to a slow passion that burned through every inch of her shiver-ridden body. He kissed her more softly, drawing his lips away, and she pressed on the back of his head, unwilling to relent just yet. This was too delicious, too mesmerizing, too freeing. He met her need and deepened the kiss again. Their tongues crashed, air passed from his lungs to hers, then back again. She felt something inside her whir like a bird’s wings, and as they finally, reluctantly, drew apart, she felt his tongue drag along her lower lip, and a needful sound escaped her lips.

  “Christ Almighty, I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you.” His whisper was low and gravelly.

  She opened her mouth to say something. What, she had no clue. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t speak. She could only want. She pulled his mouth to hers again and melted against him when their lips met again, and she went a little crazy—fisting her hands in his shirt, clawing for more of his sinfully delicious mouth. Oh God, what was she doing? She had to stop. She knew she should. She wasn’t this type of girl. She didn’t attack men with her mouth and cling to them like they were hers for the taking. But…he smelled so good, and he was so strong, holding her against him, returning her desire with an intensity she’d only dreamed of. She kissed him harder. She could kiss him all night. They didn’t have to do anything more. Just to have this connection, this inferno blazing between them. It was more than she’d ever felt for anything. Except the cello. She loved playing as much as she loved kissing him. No, no, no! This was so much better, hotter, more satisfying, all-consuming. She needed oxygen, but she couldn’t pull away. Wouldn’t. She’d rather drown in this kiss. Tomorrow the girls would come out and find her body seared from the inside out, lying lifeless on the bench with a smile on her lips, and someone would win five dollars. Just when she was about to draw away with the need to breathe, he breathed air into her lungs. Oh, she was head over heels for him, for his kisses. She was hopeless. She slowly became aware of his heart beating against her hand again. Of his erratic breathing mirroring her own. Of the feel of his hand pressed against the back of her skull, the other hand firmly holding her hip. Her clutch on his shirt softened, and everything in her mind settled and came together in one final, breathtaking press of their lips.

  She had to move. She was dangerously close to going further, to pulling his lips to her breasts, her ribs…Stop. Stop. Stop.

  She didn’t even know him. She blinked several times to try to get past the heat that blurred her vision, and she forced herself to push away from his chest.

  There. Space between us. Good.

  Not good. Bad. Very bad. She didn’t want that space. It didn’t feel good at all.

  His lips parted in a sexy, easy smile that nearly had her falling into him again.

  “I should…” She pointed toward her apartment.

  He cupped her cheek. “Jessica, what are you doing tomorrow?”

  “Hopefully kissing you.” Her hand flew to her mouth, and she slammed her eyes shut. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud. When he laughed, a deep, devastatingly masculine laugh, it drew her eyes open. “I’m sorry. I blame the tequila.”

  “I’m buying a bottle tomorrow.”

  The flirtatious glimmer in his eyes nearly did her in.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” he repeated.

  “Tomorrow. Um…I don’t know.” Her mind was a little clearer now, but her heart was still racing. She tried to remember what she was doing tomorrow. “I want to see if I can find out who won that auction.”

  “I’m taking Vera to the flea market in the morning. Want to come with us? We can get to know each other better.”

  Get to know each other better. Oh God. That drove reality home. They’d known each other only a day, and she’d hit him with her phone and mauled him like a ten-dollar hooker.

  She suddenly felt very exposed. She realized she was practically sitting on top of him; her torso was stretched across his lap. She glanced at her legs—her dress was bunched up just below her private parts. She tugged at the hem and felt her cheeks flush.

  He reached down and helped her right her dress. “I didn’t look. Don’t worry.”

  She smiled. Everything about him was easy. He was easy to kiss—way too easy to kiss—easy to like, easy to touch, easy to be with.

  She scooted off the bench and wobbled when she rose to her feet. He was beside her in a flash, with one strong arm wrapped securely around her waist, the other holding her hand.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m not a drinker. Or a…” Slut. Temptress. Oh my God, could you really think that about me? “A girl who kisses a guy she’s known less than a day.”

  He smiled again. Damn that smile. It pulled one from her, too. She couldn’t even really be mad at herself for kissing him. Any woman in their right mind would have done the same. He was sweet, and hot, and hard bodied. Really hard bodied.

  “It’s not your fault. I’m hard to resist.” His eyes brightened with the tease.

  “That you are, Mr. Reed.” She took a step toward her place to keep from going up on her tiptoes and kissing him again.

  “So, you claim you’re not a phone thrower or a kisser. What kind of girl are you?” His arm remained aro
und her waist as they walked down the gravel road toward her apartment.

  She shrugged. “I’m not really sure. That’s kind of why I took the summer off. To find out.”

  “Well, even if we hadn’t kissed, I’d have still asked you out for tomorrow, just so you know. So whatever type of girl you are, I like her.” He moved behind her as they ascended the stairs toward her apartment. “What are you taking time off from?”

  On the deck, she turned to face him, and for some reason her hands found his. This was so nice. She didn’t want it to get weird, and her world was a weird one, full of proper manners, proper attire, and odd hours, which were all reasons she wanted to experience being out of it. He was looking down at her expectantly. He must know at least something about the life she led, given his grandmother’s profession. She drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

  “I’m a musician.” There. Simple, no big discussion.

  His brows drew together, like he didn’t quite believe her. Who was she kidding? She’d never believe the generic term musician. It wasn’t like she could pull off being a rock star or even a singer. She was far too reserved for either.

  “I’m a cellist.” She couldn’t help but smile at the word. She loved it. Everything about it—from the way it sailed off her tongue and felt feminine and exotic to the beautiful music it represented—everything except the life it made her lead.

  “A cellist.”

  “Yes.”

  Jamie shook his head. “Vera is going to love you, and I have a feeling I’m going to be left in the dust tomorrow. Maybe I need to rethink my position on this date.”

  Her mouth went dry, and she dropped her eyes.

  With their hands still entwined, he used his finger to lift her chin and gazed into her eyes. He leaned down and kissed away all the worry that had coiled in her belly. When they parted, he stepped closer, so they were thigh to thigh. Her body went hot with desire again.

  “Jess, I reconsidered my position, and I like this one even better. Will you spend tomorrow with me?”

  Jess. Four simple letters that her mother had fought her entire youth. Her given name was Millicent Jessica Bail-Ayers, after her paternal grandmother. Thankfully, her parents had been kind enough to allow her to use the name Jessica instead of Millicent, but professionally she was known as Millicent J. Bail. Her parents had been smart enough to guide her in that direction as well, allowing her anonymity when away from the orchestra. Along with the middle name concession of her youth, her mother didn’t think shortened names were appropriate or appealing, and Jessica had gotten so used to hearing her mother correct people—Jessica, not Jess, please. It’s unbecoming of a lady—that she nearly corrected Jamie. She’d corrected everyone before him, but she liked hearing it from him.

  Her mother was wrong. Jess was soft and feminine, at least coming from Jamie.

  She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him, because if she didn’t, she’d think about how she’d wanted to all night long.

  “Yes. I’d love to join you tomorrow.”

  She’d have to relearn how to behave between now and then. Step number one…no tequila.

  Chapter Four

  FRIDAY MORNING JAMIE was up with the sun, after staying up most of the night working his way through emails and thinking about Jessica. He’d been so taken with her that when he’d tried to review the trouble reports his staff had sent him by email, he’d been too distracted and had given up after a page or two. He’d half expected Jessica to push him away when he’d first pressed his lips to hers last night, even though she’d asked him to kiss her. She’d taken him by surprise when she’d kissed him back as ravenously as a starving woman might eat her first meal. And later, he’d seen a shadow of worry pass over her eyes and just as quickly disappear. He wasn’t sure what to make of her, but after a kiss that reached inside his body and awakened senses he hadn’t ever felt before, he wanted to explore the possibilities.

  When he went out for his run, Caden had been on his deck ready to go. Now they were closing in on the end of their four-mile run. It was only seven thirty and already the sun was blazing.

  “So you’re going to the flea market with her?” Caden asked. “You know it’ll take the girls about ten seconds to get wind of this, right?”

  “What makes you think they don’t already know?” Jamie asked.

  “Good point, but Bella said you don’t date renters.”

  “It’s not like it’s one of Theresa’s rules, or even one of mine. I just…haven’t. Besides, there’s a first time for everything.” They jogged up a back road toward the Seaside entrance. Jamie focused on the cadence of their footfalls on the pavement, a nice, even rhythm.

  “And a last,” Caden said. “I’m convinced that something happens here on the Cape that makes couples come together.”

  “Yeah? I’ve been coming up to Wellfleet for thirty years and I can count the number of women I’ve gone out with here on one hand.” Jamie waved his hand as they turned into Seaside. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m still single.”

  “Did you OneClick her yet? Make sure she’s not a freak?”

  Even after eight years, it was still strange to hear his company name in place of Google. “No, actually. I made a conscious decision not to check her out online. There’s so much crap on the Internet, and I don’t want to stare down some old boyfriend on a Facebook page, or worry about some bullshit blog that snapped a picture of her at the wrong moment to make her look like a ho.”

  “Man, you think that’s smart?” Caden asked. “There are a lot of money-hungry people out there, and you’re not exactly middle class.”

  Jamie shrugged. “I can tell if a woman’s after my money.”

  “Must be hard to be worth a couple million.”

  A couple? Try several hundred million. Jamie had assumed Bella had told Caden by now. Friendships ran deep at Seaside, and now he understood exactly how deep.

  Money was something Jamie had because he worked hard. He didn’t think of it as who he was, and he didn’t think it made him any different from anyone else. It gave him a sense of security, but he did what he did for a living because he loved it. Figuring out technical puzzles and coming up with solutions was about the biggest thrill there was to Jamie, outside of the usual male sexual fantasies, of course.

  The gravel road forked at the entrance. It ran in a circle through the development with Bella and Jenna’s cottages, the laundry building, and the house where Theresa lived and Jessica was renting down the fork to the left. The big house, as they called it, had been the only house on the property until the land was subdivided and the cottages were built. The road circled by the pool at the far end, and Jamie’s, Leanna’s, Tony’s, and Amy’s cottages were on the right side of the community. Jamie and Caden ran down the fork to the left.

  “Glutton for punishment? You know they’ll all be together at our place,” Caden said.

  Jamie knew there was a good chance that Bella and the girls were on Bella’s deck with comments at the ready, but their harassment would be well worth the glimpse of Jessica if she was out on her deck.

  Caden elbowed him. Jamie followed his gaze to Jenna’s deck, where Jessica and the other girls were gathered around the table drinking coffee. Pepper, Leanna’s fluffy white Labradoodle, barked and ran around their feet. Jamie slowed and crouched to pet Pepper. Caden took a knee beside him.

  “You think they scared her off yet?” Caden cracked a crooked smile and lifted his brows.

  “I guess we’ll find out.” Jamie looked down at Pepper. “Come on, Pep.” Pepper ran ahead of them and leaped onto Jenna’s deck.

  “Morning, ladies.” Jamie felt all of their eyes on him as he rested his hand on the back of Jessica’s chair. It took all of his restraint not to lean down and kiss her cheek, and she surprised him when she reached up and touched his hand. He lifted his index finger and trapped hers beneath.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the hottest running duo in Wellfleet.” Bella reached
for Caden’s hand and leveled a stare at Jamie. “We hear you’re going on a date to the flea market today.”

  Jessica looked up and smiled, flashing those dimples that shot something warm and nice through his chest. “I told them that we were going with Vera this morning.”

  He moved his hand from her chair to her shoulder and smiled down at her. She was wearing a white sundress and a pair of sandals. The tie of a pink bathing suit circled her neck. He glanced around the table at the others, and they were all dressed similarly, other than Leanna. Her brown hair was pinned up in a high ponytail, and she wore a blue tank top and cutoffs, both streaked with red jam. Jessica already fit in like one of the Seaside girls, and she looked about as comfortable as could be.

  “Stop by and see me at the flea market, you guys. I’ll give you each a jar of Strawberry Spice, my newest jam flavor.” Leanna sold jam at the Wellfleet Flea Market on the weekends. “I make it with strawberry wine and habanero peppers. You get all the sweet and just enough heat.”

  She could have been describing Jessica. He couldn’t help but squeeze Jessica’s shoulder. She was all the sweet heat he needed.

  “We will. Thanks, Leanna.”

  “Pepper and I have to go set up.” Leanna hugged everyone. “It was good to see you guys. I miss being here, but I have huge orders this weekend, so we’re going to stay at Kurt’s house for a few days. I’ll come by as much as I can, though.”