Bayside Passions (Bayside Summers Book 2)

by Melissa Foster

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  He hesitated.

  Her fingers parted, and she peeked over at him, then said, “No! Definitely don’t leave them off. Ohmygod.” She rolled to her side, turning her back to Dean.

  With his briefs on, he crawled beneath the sheets behind her, gathered her into the haven of his body, and kissed her shoulder. “Embarrassed or afraid?” He was very well endowed. It was a blessing and a curse.

  She wiggled her hips against his erection. “Shocked and excited.” She giggled and added softly, “And a little embarrassed. I’m not used to seeing you naked.”

  He nipped at her shoulder, earning a sexy gasp. “If I have my way, you’ll not only get used to it, but you’ll crave it, thinking about me and the pleasure I’ll bring you day and night.”

  “Dean!” she whispered. “You’re not helping!”

  “And if you wiggle like that again, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

  She turned in his arms and put her hand on his cheek, smiling right along with him. She did that a lot, caressed his face. He wasn’t a needy guy, but the intimate touch made him feel special, and he hoped she never stopped.

  “Think we can do this for real?” she asked. “Sleep together and still be okay in the morning? Still be close friends, and more, without it being awkward or different?”

  “I think we can stay up all night, fuck like bunnies, and fall asleep in the morning closer than we’ve ever been.”

  The air rushed from her lungs. Damn, he loved that response. But he was still trying to climb out from under the biggest realization of all. “I thought I blew it tonight, and it killed me to think you might bolt.”

  “It’s my job to blow it, not yours,” she said with a raise of her brows.

  She’d destroy him with her double entendres, and by the satisfied look in her eyes, he was sure she knew it. “Is your plan to torture me all night long?”

  “No. That was just a bonus.” She touched her lips to his, then rested her head on the pillow. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. It’s torture for both of us.”

  He pulled her closer again, their bodies touching from thigh to chest—and every tempting inch in between. “A good test, then.” He lowered his cheek to the pillow and gazed into her sleepy eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too,” she whispered.

  “I’ll try to behave.”

  She giggled. “Ditto.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, tender and slow, savoring every second as her hand moved from his cheek to his hip. Without thought, his hips pressed forward, and she was right there with him, applying the same pressure in return. Behave, he reminded himself.

  As he drew back from the kiss, he was holding on to his control by a thread. He knew he could probably persuade her to let him make love to her, or at least pleasure her. His cock twitched eagerly. But that wasn’t how he wanted their first time to happen. He wanted her to crave him so badly she couldn’t hold back. He wanted her to be out of her fucking mind with desire. As he struggled to regain control, he realized he not only wanted to be the best fuck of her lifetime, but he wanted to be her last.

  “Sleep?” he asked reluctantly.

  She nodded, snuggled in close, and closed her eyes. “Sleep.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  EMERY DIDN’T KNOW how long she lay awake last night, but she’d been keenly aware of every inch of Dean’s body, from his longboard to the dusting of chest hair tickling her skin and his long lashes moving ever so slightly when he dreamed. He’d slept with one arm tightly around her. About an hour ago he’d rolled onto his back, bringing his big drink of desire into full view, and she’d snuck from the bed long enough to pee and brush her teeth. Tango and Cash had followed her into the bathroom and then cuddled up beside Dean when she’d returned to the bedroom. She’d been lying awake ever since, trying to draw her eyes away from the tented sheet bunched around his hips. But after dreaming about that third leg of his all night long, and waking herself up with a moan, her thighs wet with her arousal, it was proving to be an impossible feat.

  It seemed like hours before the predawn light crept across his tanned and toned abs. Finally. That was the longest night of my life! Emery’s pulse quickened as she leaned up on one elbow, her gaze rolling over Dean’s face. The face she’d thought she’d memorized, but as he’d slept, she’d cataloged a few things she’d missed. His brows were blonder than his hair, and the upper half of his mustache and beard were lighter, too. Even in his slumber he had the serious face of a warrior. A Viking. My Viking? Her insides trembled with memories of the way he’d made her feel last night. Her body was on fire, her breathing erratic. She needed a Dean fix.

  Squeezing her thighs together, she continued to visually devour him. His flawless skin only slightly softened his sharp features. But that smile, she thought dreamily. His smile made her stomach tumble and flip, and the way he’d looked at her last night, and the way he’d spoken to her, like she was his entire world, had an even more powerful effect. Had it always been that way?

  His eyes opened slowly, and she watched the fog of sleep clear, bringing rise to that heart-melting grin.

  “Finally” fell from her lips like she’d been stranded on a desert island and he was her rescuer. “Are we good? Still friends?”

  His brows knitted. “Of course, why?”

  “Thank God!”

  She pounced, straddling his body as she crashed her mouth to his in a fury of feverish kisses. “I’ve been waiting so long,” she said as she stripped off her top and tossed it away. Her breasts fell heavily against his chest, and that first skin-to-skin contact sent magic dancing along her skin.

  Dean swept her beneath him, his eyes ablaze with desire. “I like the way you greet the morning.”

  He trapped her hands beside her head with a glimmer of demand in his eyes. The possessive move heightened her arousal. She rocked her hips, and he took her in a fierce kiss that sent tingles zipping through her. His hips pulsed between her legs. She knew what the orgasm whisperer was capable of, and her anticipation mounted, pulsing and throbbing until it filled her veins. Their lips parted with a rush of heat, and he kissed her cheek, her forehead, the corner of her mouth, the sensitive spot beside her ear. They were only kisses, but each one felt more erotic than the last. And when he put his mouth beside her ear, his warm breath sinking into her pores, she hung on every second, waiting for him to speak, or kiss, or—

  His tongue moved along the shell of her ear. “There will be no rushing today, sweetheart.”

  A whimper escaped before she could stop it.

  “Those fucking noises make me lose my mind. I’m going to make you whimper, moan, and beg.”

  “Yes,” she pleaded.

  He circled her ear again, this time with kisses. When he got to her lobe, he sucked it into his mouth and pulsed his hips, rubbing his cock against her sex. “Are you wet for me, doll?”

  She was surprised by how the question made her cheeks burn. She wasn’t intimidated by dirty talk. She’d always known she’d love it, and as she’d lain awake, she realized she’d fantasized about dirty talk coming from Dean’s voice for months, and she’d buried that acknowledgment right along with the rest of her feelings. But actually hearing him talk like he did in her dreams as the room became brighter by the second was a whole different ball game.

  He bit into her earlobe, and she sucked in air between clenched teeth. “Do you want me, Emery?”

  “More than anything.”

  “Are you wet for me?”

  “Yes,” she said, closing her eyes against the embarrassment.

  He dragged his beard along her neck and nipped at her chin. “Open your eyes for me. I want you here with me. Don’t hide from us.”

  Her eyes opened, and the look in his eyes wasn’t erotic—it was deep and emotional—and she realized he’d repeated for me. He was setting this moment apart from all others. Showing her—and himself?—that when they were together
, they were different. And he was right. The guys she’d been with had never wanted, demanded, such defining lines.

  “I’ve been dying to taste you,” he said in a deep, lustful voice.

  Her mouth went dry and she watched as he moved lower, kissing the swell of her breasts as he cupped them. Her nipples pebbled, and he dusted kisses over each sensitive nub.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured as he swiped his tongue around one nipple, then blew over the wetness.

  Titillating sensations streaked along her skin, traveling all the way to her core.

  “I love your playful girls.” He lavished the other with the same attention. “I’m going to make you come so many times, Emery, you’re never going to want to leave this bed.”

  Before she could respond, he took her nipple between his teeth and tugged. She cried out with the mix of pleasure and pain searing through her like lightning. Her whole body arched and swayed.

  “Too hard?” He gently sucked the sensitive nub, his eyes never leaving hers.

  She shook her head, grasping for her voice. “I’ve waited my whole life for someone like you.”

  He sucked her nipple, hard, and she bowed off the bed, but he held her down, glaring at her. He dipped his head and laved his tongue over the tender spot he’d caused, then showered her breast in a series of soft kisses, whispering, “I’m beginning to understand how you get into trouble with guys.”

  “What did I say?” She tried to recall her words, but she’d said them too quickly.

  “When I’m thinking about all the ways I want to pleasure you, the last thing I want to hear is that you’ve been waiting for someone like me your whole life.”

  She blinked several times, trying to figure out what was wrong with her statement. “So, I should lie?”

  He chuckled. “How about just removing references to anyone else? We both know you’ve been waiting for me your whole life.”

  She laughed and grabbed his head with both hands, pulling his mouth closer to hers. “You are so cocky, and because you somehow got me to quit my job—”

  “You were fired,” he reminded her with a tender nip of her lower lip.

  “Because you somehow got me to quit my job,” she reiterated, “and I’m lying in your bed, you’ll probably never believe I’ll stick to my guns about anything ever again.”

  “Not true. You’re as stubborn as I am cocky, and it makes you hot as hell.” He dragged his tongue along her lower lip, making her entire body shudder. “I’m about to get very intimate with all that heat, and I want to know you’re thinking of me, not that I could be any guy who knows how to turn you on.”

  His sensitivity caught her off guard. As she lay there turning his words over in her mind, wondering how she’d feel if he’d said he’d been waiting for a woman like her all his life, she realized just how powerful words were. She wasn’t ready to say she’d been waiting for him her whole life, but she was surprised to find the words riding pretty close to the surface. Worry over where they would be tomorrow, the next day, and for the foreseeable future lingered like a ghost waiting to kick her feet out from under her. But she refused to let that worry sabotage them.

  She turned her face toward his arm and licked the length of his biceps. “Maybe you should convince me that you’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”

  With a wicked grin, he buried both hands in her hair and took her in a savagely rough kiss while his cock pounded in a quick and powerful rhythm against her silky bottoms. Her mind spun, and when he sucked her tongue in and out of his mouth, she imagined him using his skilled mouth down below. She moaned and arched, spreading her legs wider as her sex throbbed and ached. Like the orgasm whisperer she now knew him to be, he moved lower, groping and sucking every inch of her body from her breasts to her rib cage, to her belly, and holy mother of heaven, he finally tore off her silky bottoms, spread her thighs with his hands, and he did not whisper.

  He devoured.

  Consumed.

  He possessed with everything he had. He ate at her, rough and hungry, biting and kissing, plunging his tongue inside her and driving her out of her freaking mind. Just when she started to focus on one sensation, his teeth grazed over her sensitive nerves, shattering her thoughts. She clung to the sheets as he slipped his fingers inside her, curled them upward, and stroked over that magical spot that transported her to another world. He caught her clit between his teeth, and then she had no idea what he was doing, but it was spectacular. His mouth and hands searched and prodded, stroked and kissed, until she was one giant bundle of raw, exposed nerves.

  His hands slid beneath her hips, and he sealed his mouth over her inner thigh, his fingers still wreaking havoc inside, over, and around the very heart of her. She panted, her head thrashing from side to side from the overwhelming sensations. She could barely breathe as an orgasm coiled deep inside her, prickling her limbs, making her chest constrict. She was sure her flesh would melt away from the inferno burning beneath her skin. And when his mouth met her sex again, she felt it everywhere.

  Oh God! Dean! She wasn’t sure the words left her lungs, and when his mouth moved lower, teasing over the tight rim of muscles she’d never dared let a man touch, and his fingers played her like a fiddle, her orgasm crashed into her in an explosion of lights and sounds. Her entire body bucked and clenched uncontrollably as he continued his expert ministrations, carrying her through the peak, then taking her higher once again in a series of heart-slamming orgasms.

  When she finally fell to the mattress as limp as a rag doll, he moved over her, kissing her mouth, her taste still fresh on his lips, her smell lingering in his whispers.

  “Forget orgasm whisperer,” she panted out. “You’re an orgasm god.”

  “Wrong, doll.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I’m your orgasm god.”

  EMERY’S EYELIDS FLUTTERED closed. Her cheeks were flushed, her beautiful swollen, pink lips were parted, and her body was covered in a sheen of sweat. She was beyond stunning as she reached for him, pulling him into another kiss.

  “My turn,” she said against his lips, and pushed him onto his back.

  Her gaze trailed down his chest and abs to his erection, straining against his briefs, the broad head of his cock pushed out beneath his waistband. She inhaled a shaky breath, her hands playing over his chest and thigh, making him even harder.

  “You’re like the perf—” She paused, her hands stilling as she met his gaze. The brown and greens in her eyes were darker, and the gold around the edges glittered like stars. “You’re my perfect playground.”

  Christ, she destroyed him. He reached up and pulled her down by the nape of her neck, kissing her deeply. He imagined his heart opening and wrapping itself around her, and he never wanted to let her go.

  Banging on the front door startled them, and he glanced at the clock. Fuck.

  She sat back and pulled the sheet up to cover her chest. “Were you expecting someone?”

  He ground his teeth together. “Drake and Rick.” The banging continued. “They’re here to go running. I forgot we were going early today. Drake has to meet some guy at eight. Sorry, doll. I’ll get rid of them.” He sat up on the edge of the bed as they banged on the door again. “Fuck.”

  “It’s okay.” She moved next to him. “You should go running. I don’t want to monopolize your time. Besides, I really need to meditate if I’m going to get anything done today besides thinking about you.”

  He put an arm around her neck and pulled her into another kiss. “I’d rather make love to you.”

  “I know, but it’s kind of embarrassing to send them away for that, and I’ll feel guilty.”

  Just his fucking luck. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

  “I think that should be me making it up to you.” She dropped her gaze to his raging hard-on. “Maybe I should answer the door.”

  He kissed her shoulder. “Not naked, you’re not.” He grabbed his T-shirt from the chair by the window and pulled it over her head. When she
stood, it fell to the middle of her thighs. She looked adorably hot. He liked seeing her in his shirt almost as much as he liked seeing her in his bed.

  “I’ll tell them you’ll be right out.” She took a step away, and he grabbed her hand, guiding her back, until she stood between his legs.

  He slipped both hands beneath the T-shirt and pulled her forward by her bare ass. Then he lifted the shirt and sucked her breast into his mouth.

  “Oh God,” she said dreamily. “Or…maybe we should ignore them.” She reached down and stroked him through his briefs. He groaned and slipped a hand between her legs.

  Another loud bang brought a curse from both of them, followed by laughter.

  “Go take a fast icy shower. I’ll tell them you’ll be right there.”

  As she stepped away, he hauled her back again. “You are not going out there without underwear.”

  She looked down, as if she hadn’t noticed. “Your shirt covers me.”

  He narrowed his eyes and she bit her lower lip.

  “This is another one of those Emery-is-oblivious times, isn’t it?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I told you.” She peered over his shoulder at the tangle of sheets. “I have no idea where my pajama shorts are.”

  He pushed to his feet, stripped the blankets off the bed, and retrieved her silky bottoms. He held them open for her to step into and said, “I’m not a prude, but wearing underwear around other guys isn’t negotiable.”

  “What if I’m not wearing underwear under my skirt when I’m out with you in public”—mischief sparked in her eyes—“if the sole purpose of said nakedness is for easy, discreet access?”

  “Christ, I’ll never lose this boner.” He smacked her ass and she left the room giggling.

  Underwear wasn’t negotiable, but he had a feeling there was a host of Emeryisms he’d have to get used to. As he ducked into the bathroom and stepped beneath the cold water, he wondered how many times a day he’d be biting his tongue.

  An hour later, as Dean, Drake, Rick, and Matt neared the end of their run, Dean was still fielding questions about Emery. “I don’t remember you guys ever giving me the third degree like this about any other woman.”