Loving the Playboy

by Scott, S. L.

  “Yes, sirree. I had it custom made. A present to myself,” I answer, making sure the wax I put on the other day is still solid. I point to the letters on the toe of the board. “I had Mallory’s initials put on it. She’s my compass. Blah, blah… yeah, I sound like a total prick talking about this with you guys, so I’m gonna grab one of those sweet rolls and stuff my face instead. I’m starving.” I reach into the box and pull out a pastry to start eating.

  Murphy hits my arm. “You are totally whipped, man, and lucky I’ve gone all soft on love myself or I might not appreciate this new Evan Ashford.”

  “Lucky me you’ve gone soft,” I say, rolling my eyes. “This conversation has turned all kinds of wrong.” I’m not lucky he’s gone soft on my sister. I’m lucky that he leaves to retrieve his board from the truck, ending this conversation.

  “Man, what a view,” Zach says, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the ocean. “Check out the break. House on the beach and good surfing right out your back door. You’re set.”

  When Murphy returns, he stands next to us, three pairs of eyes set on the surf ahead. “I see lots of dawn patrol happening,” Zach says.

  “I’d be disappointed if it didn’t.” I start walking and they follow. “Gentleman, it’s time to pray at the church of the open sky.”

  With boards under our arms, Murphy takes off running while Zach and I give each other one quick glance—all bets on—then run into the ocean.

  28

  Mallory

  “It’s just not right,” I say, staring ahead.

  “Not right at all,” Sunny adds.

  While keeping our eyes glued on the display of cocky manliness, glistening sun-kissed skin, and smooth moves in front of us, we only hear a dreamy sigh from Kate.

  I stand up, not able to bear it any longer. On a mission with the girls flanking my sides, we stomp down to the water’s edge, waving to the guys, who are currently floating on their boards, way past the break. I jump, hoping to entice them with… well, with my feminine wiles. Okay, my tits. I tempt Evan with bouncing breasts. One can’t always play fair.

  It’s almost noon and they’ve been out there for hours now. I miss him. It’s technically our honeymoon and I want my husband back. He grabs the next wave, stealing it from under Zach, which pisses off Zach, who has now stopped paddling and is sitting on his board swearing. We can hear him from here.

  Evan cuts across the top of the wave and just as it starts to barrel over, he jumps into the air, diving into the ocean, his board dragged behind him by the leash. I stop breathing, my heart lumping in my throat until he finally pops up for air and starts swimming to shore. I’m gonna kick his ass for that move, but later because I have other plans for him first.

  When he reaches the beach, I stroll over, casual in my approach, needing to sweet talk him out of anymore surfing, at least for a little while. “You must be exhausted,” I say with my hands behind my back. I’ve brought ammunition or what I like to call a little bribe to make sure he sees things my way. But to him, he gets a little show as this position perks my breasts forward for him to appreciate all the more.

  He kisses me through heavy, tired breaths, and says, “Damn, we scored. The break is epic and we live right here.” His eyes are bright with excitement and possibility.

  Slowly swaying my hips, I ask, “Speaking of breaks, you ready to take one? You know, for food and other stuff?”

  Running his hand over his hair, rubbing roughly to shake the water out, he says, “Good idea. I’m starved. What’s for lunch?”

  I hold up my weapon. “I’ve got an idea or two.”

  His eyes widen, but when the smirk appears, I know I’ve got his complete attention. “Sex wax, huh? What do you plan on doing with that?” he asks.

  I turn to walk back to the house, flipping up sand in the process. But I stop and look back at my surfer, the boy who became a man, dominating every ounce of his sex appeal and me along the way. “I’ve got a few ideas… and some matches.” I feign innocence as I say, “Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you. A fruit platter was delivered this morning while you were out surfing.” I add a little batting of the eyelashes for extra emphasis.

  “You did not just go there,” he teases, waggling his eyes.

  Nodding, I wiggle my booty, and say, “I totally did.” I take off running as he rushes to undo the leash from his ankle. I make the mistake of looking back once, which causes me to lose my lead, but losing to him is worth it since I’ll win in the end when he catches me. My hot husband runs toward me with a look in his eyes that can only be described as ‘starving.’

  The girls laugh and catcall as we run past them, knowing we are about to take advantage of our newlywed status with all intents and purposes that come along with that title.

  With one swift move, Evan captures me, swings me over his shoulder, and smacks my ass… hard. Inside, he flops me onto the bed and I’m caught between his strong arms and a fit of giggles. Jumping on top of the mattress, he pins my wrists above my head. Positioned between my legs with his erection pressed against my middle, he thrusts twice, making me squirm, and asks, “Now what was this about hot wax and fruit?”

  It’s in that moment, looking into the deep ocean blue of his eyes, I realize I never stood a chance that day at the airport. Evan Ashford owned my heart and every breath I took thereafter from the second he asked, “Do you need the local time?”

  To be continue the Playboy in Paradise journey, turn the page and keep reading the series epilogue.

  Epilogue

  Evan

  “No, no, no, no. Shhhhh. Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry.” I try soothing her. I stroke Mallory’s hair back from her face and hold her to my chest while placing kisses sporadically on the top of her head. I want to take her pain away. I want to take her pain away and make everything right again. Just like it used to be. Perfect in paradise. Exactly what she deserves.

  But I can’t.

  I can’t take the pain away. It cuts us both too deep, a devastation neither of us deserves. This isn’t a problem I can solve or fix or make better. I can only hope she can move on from this, that I can, that we can together.

  I want to disappear into the ocean for hours, days even, and when I resurface, I want to be whole again. I want to make her whole again.

  “Shhhhh,” I try soothing her quiet sobs. I know it’s not working, but it’s all I know to do for her. I hold her even tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”

  29

  Evan

  Six Months Later…

  The water reflects the sun, making her golden skin glisten. I lick my lips and watch as she takes her hair and wrings the water from the ends. She doesn’t notice me until she lifts her gaze from the sand and looks toward the house.

  I stay, lying in the hammock, silently willing her to come to me. Mallory glances down and even from here I can see a slight hint of pink coloring her cheeks. When she looks back up, she starts walking toward me, making me smile.

  Lying there, I wait for her. I cross my arms behind my head and enjoy the warm day under the large palm trees of our yard. But the sounds of the ocean in the backyard have nothing on her captivating voice. “Hey there,” she says, casting my face under her shadow, blocking the sun from my eyes.

  “Hey there.”

  She looks like an angel with the sunshine bursting from behind her, giving her a halo effect. Crawling very slowly on top of me in the hammock, she’s careful not to send us flipping to the ground. Her wet bathing suit, though small, sends a chill where it presses against me. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly to me. We’re pros at balancing in this contraption, so I don’t have any fear of falling. We’ve only tumbled out of it twice—once on our wedding night when I mentioned kids and the other time was a particularly drunk sex session. I lay still as she moves to rest her head on my chest and her knee between my legs.

  Knowing we’re running out of time alone, I whisper, “Let’s g
o inside for a few minutes. I want to show you something.”

  She looks up without moving her body, and asks, “This something you want to show me, is it something that’s grown quite significantly in your trunks since I climbed up here by chance?”

  I smirk, looking up at the sky. She knows me too well. I’ve lost all my game and have become too predictable. I chuckle, knowing she knows my tricks. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.”

  “Good, I thought you’d never ask.” She carefully rolls off of me and back onto her feet. Extending her hand out to pull me up, she says, “C’mon, Surferboy, let’s go see what you’re packing in those board shorts.”

  After rinsing our feet under the outdoor faucet, she pulls me into the house and leads me straight into the bedroom. Without hesitation, she unties her bikini and lets both pieces fall to the ground. Mallory scoots on her knees across the covers until she’s centered on the king-sized bed. “Evan?”

  “Yeah?”

  She motions her head, beckoning me to her. Without taking my eyes from her body, I let my trunks drop to the floor. I step out of them and join her on the bed. Sliding my hands under her chin, I hold her face, letting my fingers rest gently against her skin. Kissing her, my tongue enters her mouth and finds its mate. “Mmmmm,” I moan, enjoying how she tastes.

  I let my hands fall, gliding lightly over her soft skin, over her shoulders and then land on her breasts. Her breasts are perfection. Taking them fully in hand, I squeeze them gently. She moans into my mouth and my cock twitches against her stomach. I slide my hands further down her hour glass body, loving her curves.

  As I continue rubbing along the slope where her waist and hip meets, I kiss her again, wanting to give her everything.

  I kiss down her neck… lower… lower… and lower until I reach the top of her thighs, then continue. When her head drops back, I move over her, spreading her legs with my knee. There’s no resistance between us and I find it such a fucking turn on that I get to be with this woman whenever I desire.

  Kissing between her breasts, I swirl my tongue in her belly button where a trapped ocean droplet allows me to taste the salt as it mixes with her natural sweetness. I look up, my eyes meeting hers. She knows I’m going to move lower to taste her in other places—very sensitive, sexual places that I alone will ever get to taste.

  She shakes her head, stopping me. “I want to feel you inside of me, Evan.”

  I smile against her thigh as she tugs me by my hair, pulling me higher. “I can’t deny you anything.” I align myself and push in not wanting her to ever want for anything, including myself. We both groan when my hips meet firmly against hers.

  “Yes,” she murmurs, lost in sensations. I start thrusting until Mallory’s hands come up and press on my chest. “Roll over.”

  I instantly grab a hold of her hips and roll onto my back, bringing her on top of me without breaking our connection.

  She stops, pushes up a little, then says, “Babe, you’re so fucking deep.” I can tell she’s acclimating to the new angle and to me. Her face is tilted toward the ceiling, the back of her long hair brushing against the top of my thighs. She looks down, straight into my eyes, and says, “You feel so good.”

  Mallory creates her own rhythm as she rides me hard. Her head drops forward and her hair hides her from my view—that is just unacceptable.

  Holding her in place, I sit up, attaching my lips to her neck while pushing her hair behind her shoulders. She wraps her legs around my back and with my eyes now closed, I start losing myself in the feeling of her consuming me.

  She holds me so our bare chests are pressed together, and we both continue moving. As her nails scrape across my shoulders, I feel her tighten, her body squeezing me over and over again as she calls my name out. “Evan!”

  My thrusting is erratic, no predictable rhythm left to be found. “I’m gonna come.” I release, punctuating each thrust up with a harsh breath until my strength and energy is gone. Rolling her onto her back, I collapse on top, resting my head on her chest. I love laying on top of her like this, post orgasm.

  A knock on our side door draws my attention away from her. Time passes too quickly. If I could have my way, we’d stay like this all day. I don’t get my way today though. We have other obligations cutting into our time that we have to tend to.

  “You should probably let’em in, babe,” she says, rubbing her fingers through my hair with comforting strokes.

  “I know, but I don’t wanna get up.”

  “They’ll come in anyway.”

  “Let’em.”

  She giggles, causing my head to bounce on her chest. I start to sit up but she pulls me back down so I’m lying next to her. We share a pillow looking into each others’ eyes. I can hear Zach and Sunny talking as they make themselves at home in the kitchen.

  “Can we talk for a minute?” she asks hesitantly, looking down at my chest.

  She looks worried. I lift her chin up with my finger, and say, “Of course, we can. What’s bothering you?”

  “I’m not bothered. I just… well, I’ve been thinking about kids lately.” She looks so nervous right now that I want to comfort her, but I wait, letting her say what she needs to say.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. They had the cutest storytime for toddlers the other day. It’s every Wednesday actually. The kids are so adorable to watch.”

  “So you’re ready again?”

  “I don’t know,” she replies. “I’m just kind of drawn to the group and find myself thinking about you and us and what our kids might look like and be like. If they’ll have—”

  “I’m worried about the pregnancy part. I mean after—”

  “I know you are,” she says, rubbing my cheek. “I think I’ll be more prepared this time. Are you mad I brought it up?”

  “Mad? Not at all, Baby. Just a little surprised since our friends just got here and we have the party to go to.”

  She slips off the bed and I can tell by her body language that she’s hurt. I go to her when she starts shuffling through one of her dresser drawers, slamming it shut. She turns around, running right into my chest. I wrap my arms around her and whisper, “I want to talk about this. Please don’t be upset.”

  Against my chest, she sniffles. In a muffled, tear-laced voice, she says, “I don’t even know how I feel right now. I was just telling you what’s going on in my head without thinking.”

  “I want you to always do that.” I lean back so I can look her in the eyes. “Mallory, I love you and you know I want to have kids. I just want to make sure we’re ready, like really ready, for anything that happens. I’ll be honest with you here, I feel like I just got you back a few months ago. You’re laughing more and you’re happy again. I worry, that’s all. But if you feel ready, then I am, too.”

  She smiles. “Thank you.”

  When she turns to leave, I grab her and turn her back around, to add, “Don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to me about what’s on your mind. Okay?”

  “Okay.” After both of us take a deep breath, she says, “We should get out there before they burn the house down. You remember what happened the last time Zach got Sunny to light the barbeque pit.”

  “You take a shower and I’ll go.” I walk around the bed, grabbing my board shorts and slip them on before heading to the door. When I open it, I glance back. She opens her bikini drawer but stops. Her head is down and I can’t quite tell her expression from here, but I can tell her mood. She’s somber. She’s remembering…

  30

  Evan

  We’ve been married just over three years and it’s been better than I could’ve imagined. And I had imagined that being married to Mallory would be pretty damn good. We’ve both been busy with school and in the last year, Mallory was promoted to Director of Literacy for the North Shore district of public libraries. I received my Masters two months ago. Three weeks ago I started into the Ph.D. program. I was told if I apply myself, I can graduate in three years. Since I started
the summer program, I’ll cut another semester off that time. So, as a couple, we’ve worked together to get our lives where we want them to be.

  To the outside world, we have no concerns at all. But to those close to us, they know the truth.

  Last fall, we found out we had a little ‘accident’ on the way. I don’t think either of us were shocked that we got pregnant on our vacation to Mexico. Mallory’s luggage was lost – and never found – including her birth control pills. One margarita led to another which in turn led to our loss of better judgment and me proclaiming that the ‘pull-out’ method is legit birth control. Well, whatever, anyway, she ended up pregnant and after the shock wore off, we were thrilled.

  Sure, we’d casually talked about kids to our family, but it all seemed to be future talk. So even though the news of a baby on the way was a surprise, it wasn’t unwelcome. Over the first trimester, it was fun to lie in the hammock and talk about names and what he/she might look like, act like, and what bad habits of ours they would pick up. We laughed a lot just like our normal days, but each smile now held anticipation for the future.

  Mallory packed up the books in one of the extra bedrooms that we had made into a library and had me move them into the other spare room. She sketched mural ideas on a pad – one for a boy and one for a girl. She laughed all the time and was the happiest I’d ever seen her. I would catch her watching me with a smile on her face when she thought I wasn’t aware. She told me that she hoped the baby looked like me. I hoped the baby looked like her and had her disposition.