by Ally Decker
He smiled and lifted his cup in a gesture of a toast when Sylvia waved at them before returning to her conversation with Greg. Jeremy took a sip of his coffee and turned his face towards the sun, closing his eyes. He thought briefly about his mornings in Los Angeles, and how he did something similar to this every day—coffee in hand, the sun warming his face as he stood on his balcony and waited to fully wake up. He pictured Tara there with him on that balcony, and ached to make it a reality. One day.
"Do you think we can go for a swim before we have to head to the lounge?" the real Tara asked and he opened his eyes. They'd set up the couples massages earlier and they'd taken the earliest available spot, which meant they wouldn't have a lot of time after breakfast.
He checked the time to confirm it and shook his head. "We have twenty-five minutes. But I'm all for coming back here right after."
"Great, let's do that," Tara said with a smile. "Then we can laze around on those." She tilted her head towards the beach chairs. "I want to catch all the sunshine I can. It was raining most of last week in New York."
He smiled back and nodded. "Sure, whatever you want."
"Famous last words," she teased but then they fell into a comfortable silence, soaking the sun and drinking their coffees.
Then, suddenly, Tara stepped to the side and kicked some water at him, laughing at his surprise. It turned into a little war, and soon enough, they were both soaking wet and laughing hard. He could hear Greg and Sylvia shouting and egging them on, then applauding when Jeremy and Tara called a truce. He looked down at himself, then at Tara, and started laughing again. She laughed as well, leaning forward with her hands on her knees. When she looked up at him, sunshine reflecting from the water shone brightly in her eyes and his mouth went dry at the picture in front of him. Her white blouse was sticking to her body, her braid was messy and loose strands fell all around her face, and she smiled as if she had no worry in life.
Her smile turned into a lazy smirk as if she knew what he was thinking about, but then she straightened up and looked behind Jeremy. When he turned, he saw no one, but the main lounge reminded him about the approaching appointment.
Before he could say anything, though, Tara spoke up. "Come on, we need to change." A beat. "Race you."
And she was off.
He laughed so hard there was no way he was going fast, but he dutifully followed after her as she ran through the camp towards their cabin. In the end, he was only a few steps behind her and when she collided with the cabin door, he was there right after, pushing her against it and kissing her. It was a mess, because they were both breathing hard, but it didn't matter.
Maybe they could be late for their appointment, after all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tara was in heaven.
After ridiculous scrambling to get to their appointment on time, she and Jeremy were directed to a room that was more fitting for a high-end hotel SPA than a campsite in the middle of nowhere. As much as she was impressed by the equipment and the interior design, they had nothing on the hands of Paola, who had to be performing some kind of magic under the guise of the massage.
It was painful at first, which Tara had expected, suffering through many sessions in the past since she was prone to carry the stress tension in her muscles until she risked an injury. But then, after Paola worked through the worst kinks, it turned into a pleasure fest. Tara even let out a few involuntary moans as her body was being liquidated into a puddle.
It didn't hurt that Jeremy was lying nearby and whenever she looked at him, he had the most serene, happy smile on his face. With the exceptions being right after she moaned, when his eyes turned hotter and his mouth fell open as he stared at her lips.
Tara would never admit it out loud, but there was a chance that that last moan of hers was not involuntary after all. She enjoyed Jeremy's reactions way too much.
By the time their time was up, she was the most relaxed she could remember being, and Jeremy seemed to be in a similar state. She stumbled as she got off of the massage bed, but he caught her easily and supported her until she regained her balance. She grinned at him, feeling punch-drunk and happy, and he smiled back, tangling their fingers together and leading her out of the lounge and towards their cabin.
Tara didn't care that she was in a bathrobe and her hair was probably a mess. As they strode through the camp and someone would look their way, she grinned and nodded at them, too relaxed to worry about anything in that moment. One of the biggest stars in Hollywood watched her in a bathrobe? Well, tough, another big Hollywood star saw her without a bathrobe, and would do so again soon, so what.
"You okay?" Jeremy asked, and she blinked and blushed when she realized she giggled under her breath.
"Yeah, sorry." She shook her head, trying to clear it without losing the happy glow. "I feel as if I were drunk, a bit."
Jeremy chuckled. "The wonders of a good massage."
"No, that was not a good massage," she told him as they were coming to their cabin. "It was more like a spiritual experience."
This time he laughed out loud and she grinned at the sound.
"Judging from the sounds you were making there at the end, it was some experience, that was for sure," he said, leading her towards the bed.
"Whatever you have in mind, my body is unable to perform yet," she half-protested, but still lay down when he pushed her gently. She sighed happily as her head hit the pillow.
"Well, I thought about cuddling in bed and perhaps a little nap." He got onto his side of the bed and lay down on his back right next to her.
"Oh." She liked that. She liked that a lot. "Good plan." She performed the Herculean task of rolling onto her side and leaned over him, putting her head on his chest and her arm over his waist.
She grinned. Even better than the pillow.
She barely felt the kiss Jeremy dropped on the top of her head before she drifted off.
***
Ultimately, they didn't make it back out to the lake until after lunch. When they got to the beach, everyone but Jess and Sonia were already there. Tara and Jeremy settled on the chairs between Sylvia and Greg and Danny and Sharon, with Tara sitting on the one closest to Sylvia, so she would have a friend to talk to, as she once again felt a bit self-conscious about being the odd one out.
"Hey, you," Sylvia greeted her warmly. "You're right on time to see a bunch of grown men egg each other on to do the weirdest jump to the lake they can think of."
"The coolest," Greg corrected her from the other side. "Whoever does the coolest one, wins."
Sylvia rolled her eyes, but she was still amused. "I know your taste too well."
"I picked you, didn't I? My taste is impeccable." Greg stood up from his chair to the sound of cooing mixed with snorts, but it didn't seem to bother him. He still grinned at his wife.
"Nice one," Sylvia told him with a nod and a soft smile she tried to hide. "I will give you that one."
"Perfect." Greg turned to the rest of them. "Okay, guys, come on."
All men but Jeremy got up, but it wasn't enough for Greg.
"Come on, you lazy bum," he said, nudging Jeremy's chair with his foot. "You know you can't resist a challenge like that."
Jeremy turned to Tara, but she raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Don't look at me." She didn't mind him doing this if he wanted to, and maybe he could read that from her face, because he stood up and started undressing down to his swimming trunks.
That, Tara could appreciate a lot.
All five men ran to the end of the deck shouting and pushing each other, and it was a wonder neither of them ended up in the water from falling off by accident.
"And we said no kids allowed," Sylvia joked, watching them when Tara glanced towards her with a chuckle.
"Maybe we knew we'd have our fill," she said before there was more hollering at the deck and she turned just in time to see Danny pushing from the wood and flying into the water like a weird bird or whatever it was supposed to be.
>
Then it was a weird praying man jump, a pirouette jump, one weird slide jump, and finally, a somersault. And Tara, as well as the rest of the women on the beach, watched the proceedings almost despite herself. She had a good time exchanging jokes and comments, although she mostly listened, worried about accidentally offending someone by pushing a joking comment too far. It didn't seem that she would, seeing as all the ladies seemed to have a sense of humor, but better safe than sorry, she supposed.
In the end, although she was impressed by Jeremy's somersault, she agreed that the ultimate prize should go to Caleb for his pirouette.
All in all, by the time the men came back onto the beach, jostling each other and laughing, Tara managed to relax and let herself have fun, especially since the women seemed genuinely interested in her and polite—if not towards their partners' jump attempts, then at least towards her.
Jeremy paused between their chairs, dripping wet and looking down at her with a grin, and she forgot whatever she'd been about to say a moment before. His swimming trunks were plastered against his muscular thighs, and the water accentuated the hard lines of his muscles as it flew down through nooks and crooks of Jeremy's body. She found the sight of his abs particularly…enticing.
That was probably why she answered yes to his question before truly registering the words.
"Want to go in?"
And she could retract her words, tell him she would go in the lake later, after she caught some more sun, but she'd already said yes, and he was staring at her with those eyes, looking like a dream, and she knew she was lost.
Leaving all her stuff on the chair, she followed him to the shore. The water turned out to be warmer than she was afraid of, even if not exactly warm. She preferred to get it over quickly, though, so she pushed further into the water until it reached her thighs and then she lowered herself until she was neck-deep.
"You look like a woman on a mission," Jeremy told her with a smile before brushing a strand of hair back from her face. He was standing straight so even when they moved a bit further, the water reached his waist and she had to look up at him.
"I don't like dragging out anything painful," she said with a shrug that made little waves around her. "And slow descent into water is just that—prolonging the suffering before I can get to the good parts."
"I see." He lowered himself now as well, so that they were at the eye-level. "Are we at the good parts yet?"
There was something in the back of her head that itched to look for a hidden meaning, but she discarded the idea. Here and now, that was her plan for the week. No overthinking.
She stood up straight, and since they were slowly moving deeper, the water was reaching right below her breasts now. She didn't miss the way his gaze fell to her bikini top and she smirked. "Apparently."
He raised his eyebrows. "Well… Maybe we have to test it." He moved closer until he circled his arms around her waist. She put her hands on his shoulders that were warm under her touch, and when he leaned in for a kiss, she met him half-way.
It was short and sweet, but still left her lips tingling.
"Test positive," Jeremy whispered, moving his hands up and down her lower back.
She laughed. Yeah. Yeah, it was.
***
They ended up staying at the lake most of the afternoon. Tara spent some time in the water, swimming and joking around with Jeremy, then the rest of the group joined them and they played water ball for a bit. And when she grew tired, she moved to her chair to catch some tan and lie still.
She was ravenous by dinnertime, but after they ate, she felt great again. And now she was fed, dressed in one of her favorite summer dresses, and they were heading back on the beach for a campfire.
"What are you smiling about?" Jeremy asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles as they walked towards the fire visible ahead.
You. This. "Vacation is great," she said instead, going with the easy, safe option.
He nodded but didn't say anything else, and Tara wondered what he was thinking about. She even opened her mouth to ask him about it, but a shout to her left startled her.
It was Sylvia, who came up to them with a big bag of marshmallows hanging from her hand.
"Tara, can I convince you to sing tonight? Please?" Her puppy eyes were impressive, Tara had to give her that, but she still shook her head. She really liked Sylvia, but her friend could be a very one-track minded.
"No, I'm not singing. I'm going for marshmallows," she added, picking one out from Sylvia's bag and putting it into her mouth. "And maybe a bit of reliving the high school years." She glanced up at Jeremy. "Company's already better." Which was not a big compliment, since the boys she dated in high school were terrible, but Jeremy smiled at her, obviously pleased.
"There's free booze, too," he added, with a wink.
She smirked. "High school, as I said."
Only instead of cheap beer and one small bottle of vodka shared around the circle, there was craft beer and good wine in plastic cups. Instead of dozens of teenagers, shouting and screaming and talking shit, there was a dozen of adults, talking and laughing and ribbing each other good-naturedly. Instead of a drunk football player trying to constantly push his hands into her underwear and failing to do anything exciting once he got there, there was Jeremy, with his solid presence at her side, occasional kisses, and the way she never wanted to move away from him, because she felt settled, and good, and cared for.
So, not like high school at all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jeremy woke up to the sounds of a door being opened and closed, followed by the soft steps and someone—Tara—slipping back under the covers.
"Good morning," he said, opening his eyes to see her startle.
"Sorry, I was trying not to wake you." She pushed one hand under her pillow and settled on her side, facing him. "I was in the bathroom when I heard some noise outside. It was our breakfast delivery. I brought it in."
Yesterday they'd found out they could order their breakfast to be delivered to the cabin, and they'd jumped on the idea. Having no reason to get up in the morning gave them more time in bed, after all.
"Are you hungry?" he asked. His hand finding her hip was like a habit now, two pieces slotting together.
She shook her head. "Not yet." She moved closer until they were pressed together. As she slipped one leg in between his, she rubbed her thigh over his morning erection and raised an eyebrow with a half-smile. "Good morning to you, too."
They kissed as if they had all the time in the world. Their touches were unhurried, soft, meant to tease more than anything else, until they became more direct, but still slow. The heat built and built, and built, in slow ripples of pleasure along his back, her quiet moans spilled into his mouth, more insistent pressure of her thigh against his cock, and his fingers rubbing her through her panties. There were no earth-shattering orgasms, but a slow slide into pleasure, until it broke and left them breathless and mellow.
They kissed through the afterglow, and Jeremy decided he would be content to lie with her in this bed for as long as she felt like it.
Of course, it couldn't last forever, but even once they got up, they both seemed to want to prolong the quiet, easy closeness of the dream-like morning. They showered together, then Tara suggested taking their breakfast to the back patio.
The back of their cabin was facing the woods and angled in a way that protected them from being seen from the cabin next to theirs, giving them an impression of no one else being around. It felt a bit like how it usually went when he came to New York to see her, but at the same time, not at all. Jeremy didn't know if it was simply because they were on vacation or because it was more of a choice this time than a necessity like it sometimes felt in New York.
Whatever it was, it made him feel more relaxed, happier. And from the way Tara wouldn't stop smiling that soft smile of hers that he'd only ever briefly seen when she was sleepy and less guarded, he guessed she felt the same.
They talked a
bout last night's campfire and laughed about some of the drunken shenanigans before the conversation moved to their own drunken shenanigans in the past. Tara was resistant at first to tell him any embarrassing stories, but after hearing a few of his, she caved and shared some. He especially liked the one about her showing up at the wrong party and ending up invited to the hostess' wedding. By the time they finished breakfast, they were laughing hard, and grinning at each other.
After yet another story from the first Collectibles movie set, Tara shook her head.
"Maybe it's a good idea you don't start shooting until early next year. Your livers will thank you for a respite."
"Oh, we rarely do that anymore," Jeremy said. Before he could point out the reason, he suddenly realized that with the mention of his schedule, she'd given him a good opening for the talk about their future plans. A part of him didn't want to break their little cocoon of here and now, but he knew that they needed to have that conversation sooner or later.
What if she doesn't want anything more, though? That question haunted him whenever he thought of approaching the topic, and always ended up being the main reason he pushed it further away.
This time, his musings were interrupted by a knock on the cabin front door. He exchanged a surprised look with Tara, as if she, too, was swept up in the moment, feeling as if they were all alone.
"I'll get it," he said, pushing himself to his feet, and headed to the door.
It was Greg.
"Hey, we're going to play some tennis and thought doubles may be a good idea." He pointed behind him towards the tennis court. "We're looking for more teams, so we can make a little competition out of it."