by Bailey James
Damn it! I bite my lip. Keep this up, Lily, and you will end up finishing what you started.
Not entirely sad about that prospect, I poke my head out the door. Ty is leaning against the wall beside the bathroom and straightens when it opens.
Oh. My. God, I think when I see him. He’s already in his swim trunks. And nothing else. His chest is bare and so completely lickable, I have to force myself to remain where I am. I’ve seen him topless before, but, at this moment, it’s like I’m truly seeing all the dips and planes of his muscular quarterback torso. My fingers ache to trace each ridge, so I curl them into fists, my nails pinching my palm.
“Ready?” When I only continue to stare at him, he frowns. “Is everything okay?”
I shake my head, pulling myself from a lust-fueled haze. Maybe that bump to my head jostled my libido while it was at it. “Uh, no. I’m having trouble tying my swimsuit.”
He flashes a wolfish grin. “Yeah?” He flexes his fingers. “I can help with that.”
I chuckle and push the door further open as I step back to let him into the—surprisingly large for a hotel—bathroom.
He saunters in, his pupils dilating and his breath catching when he sees me. “Wow.”
A little bubble of happiness settles into my chest at his reaction, but it pops when I glance down at myself. Deep purple bruises run between my breasts and across my hips where the seatbelt cut into me. Another darker, thicker bruise slices across my thighs where the steering wheel trapped me, and small cuts pucker across the rest of my body.
“You’re…uh…you look…” His gaze jogs across my body before he finally focuses on my face, and then he flashes another of his wolfish grins. “Wow.” He trails a finger down the strap of my top. “I really like this swimsuit.”
“Yeah?” I lick my lips, and my stomach summersaults at the hungry look he’s giving me as he follows the movement. “Are you going to tie the top or not?” My voice is husky, despite its teasing tone.
“Do I have to?” His lips twist into a sexy pout that arrows straight to my center. “Turn around, beautiful.”
Even though my legs are a little shaky, I do as he requests, pulling my hair off to one side, so he doesn’t get it caught with the straps. My breath catches in my throat when he presses his mouth to the back of my neck and trails his fingers over my collarbone before he takes the strings for the bikini top from my loose fingers.
Just when I think I’ll pass out from the lack of oxygen to my brain as everything in me focuses on his taunting fingers, he pulls back and ties the strings.
“All set. Let’s go.” He walks out without looking back.
Sure, I think, let me just mop my boneless body off the floor first. I take a deep breath and follow Ty on unsteady legs out the door and through the hotel to the beach.
The bright Florida sunshine reflects off the speckled marble concrete of the sidewalk that leads to the private beach and nearly blinds me when we step out of the building. I immediately bring my hand up to cover my eyes.
“Ouch! I guess I should have brought my sunglasses.” I pause as reality sinks in. “Or not, because they’re probably at the bottom of the lake.”
Without saying anything, Tyler removes his and tries handing them to me. I push them back at him.
“No, I’ll be fine. You use them.”
He rolls his eyes and simply slips the earpieces over my ears and adjusts them, so they sit comfortably on my face like I hadn’t said anything.
“I’m not the one who’s hurt,” he says gently. “I have a spare set in my car. I’ll go get them after I make sure you’re settled.”
Taking him at his word, I acquiesce. We stroll hand-in-hand to the soft sand, where he scouts the area for a lounge chair in the shade, finally finding one underneath a few palm trees and drags me over to it. “Come on; there’s one over there.” At the seat, he starts rooting around in the tote bag I brought with us.
Confusion makes me pause even as irritation buzzes my nerves. Ty has always been a gentleman when it comes to my bag. He never goes through it, and definitely never without permission. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for sunscreen,” he mumbles.
“Ah, here it is.” He pulls out the bottle I’d taken from my purse—fair skin in Florida sucks—and shoved in there before we left the room, holding it aloft like a prize. Then he pushes my shoulder gently to get me to sit on the wood slats of the chair.
“Sit. I’ll put this on for you and then go and get my sunglasses.”
I shake my head. “No. Get the sunglasses, and then you can put the sunscreen on me. I’d like to get somewhat of a tan this summer. Even if I can’t go surfing.”
He frowns. “But you’ll burn. Remember spring break?”
How could I forget? I’d fallen asleep without putting sunblock on and had woken up red as a lobster. I burned so badly it hurt even to breathe, forget walking or wearing regular clothes. I walked around for days in nothing but booty shorts and one of Ty’s giant t-shirts.
“I’m not going to burn in the five minutes you’ll be gone,” I say, and lift a brow.
He shifts from foot to foot. “Are you sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone?”
Oh, good lord. It’s just a concussion—that’s probably fine now—and a broken arm. Then again, it is kind of adorable how worried he is about me.
“I’m fine, Ty. Go. I’ll be right here. I promise not to do anything stupid.”
When he only continues to stare at me, I tip down the glasses and peer over the tops.
That seems to work because he chuckles. “All right, gorgeous. I’ll be right back. Don’t talk to strangers now.”
I blow him a raspberry, which only makes him laugh harder. With one last eye roll, I watch as he jogs back to the door, admiring the muscles in his back. And his ass. Let’s not forget about the hard globes of his ass.
When he slips through the door, and I can’t see him anymore, I lean back against the wood slats of the lounger and close my eyes, soaking up the sun. The combination of the heat and humidity makes me sleepy, and even though he’s not gone long, I’ve started to doze off by the time Ty comes back.
“Come on, sleepyhead, up and at ‘em. Let’s get this stuff slathered on so we don’t have a repeat of spring break.”
Groggy, I sit up and twist to show him my back. I yelp when he squirts the freezing cream directly onto my back. “Holy cow! That’s freaking cold.”
I’m wide awake now, and I’m fairly certain I won’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon.
He winces. “Sorry. I thought the sun would’ve warmed it.”
“It would have had to actually been in the sun to do that.” I cross my arms over my chest and fake a glare.
“Oh, yeah. Right.” He gives me his cheesy grin, which tells me he totally did that on purpose.
I narrow my eyes at him, which only makes him smile wider. Finally, I wave him on. He applies the sunscreen in slow, smooth strokes that make me want to stretch and purr like a cat. When he finishes my back, he comes around to my front and starts applying it to my shoulders, my arms, and my chest, dipping into the triangles of my bikini to run his rough hands across the sensitive flesh of my nipples.
I shiver, and he chuckles, the sound deep and husky.
He moves to my stomach but doesn’t tuck his fingers under the waistband of the bikini bottoms. Instead, he skips down to my feet. He clasps my left foot in both hands and drags his thumbs up the arch until he’s encircling my ankle between his palms. The pressure combined with his touch makes me moan.
When he massages the sunscreen up my calf, past my knee, and to my thigh, I let my head fall back, enjoying the tingles his touch is inciting everywhere. He creeps closer to my lady bits with each stroke, and liquid heat pools in my center in anticipation, but then he’s squirting more sunscreen into his palm and s
tarting over on my right foot.
I release another groan, but I’m not sure if it’s in disappointment or pleasure because his thumbs are digging into the muscle in my arch. Again, he slowly moves up my leg until he reaches the crease between my legs, but this time he doesn’t stop there, watching me carefully he brushes gently across the now damp fabric of my bottoms. It’s the first time someone besides me has gotten so close to touching me there, and my whole body shivers, even as I try to push my hips closer to press his hand harder against me.
Without warning, he’s leaning over me, his mouth at the shell of my ear. “You like that?” he rasps, practically growling into my ear. I nod, and he asks, “Want me to keep going?”
I can only nod again, but it’s enough, with a smile and heat growing in his eyes, he grinds the heel of his hand against my clit. I gasp, a moan slipping between my lips. He kisses me, swallowing another cry and tangling his tongue with mine. In a sudden move, he switches our places, so his back is up against the lounger and I’m on top of him, straddling his hips. He pulls me even closer, so his erection replaces his palm.
My eyes pop open, and I glance around to see if anyone’s close, but I’m drowning in lust, so when he sucks on my tongue and grinds me against him again, I only encircle my arms around his neck and rub myself against him in return, setting an almost frantic pace, enjoying every single one of these unfamiliar sensations that wash through me, until, like a tidal wave, my orgasm crashes into me and drags me over the edge. His grip on my hips tightens for a second, jerking me against him and kissing me with hot, open-mouthed kisses until he lets out his own soft groan, that causes yet another whole-body shiver, before he slows the pace until we’re just holding each other, our hearts racing and our breaths chugging like a train.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes fixed straight to mine, worry glowing behind the heat.
“Yeah,” I say, with an exhausted grin. “Wonderful.”
He studies me for another moment, but then smiles. “Good, because I totally shouldn’t have done that.”
I chuckle. “Well, I’m glad you did.” It’s true.
He just kisses the side of my head and hugs me closer.
I’m not sure how long we stay wrapped in each other’s arms, but when he rearranges us so he’s resting against the back of the chair and I’m sitting between his legs, my back pressed to his chest, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, while he presses his lips to my temple, I’ve never felt more relaxed in my life.
When my mind clears of its lust fog, embarrassment heats my face, making me want to hide my face against Ty’s neck. But I don’t. Instead, I tip my head up and open my eyes to peer around us. Thankfully, there’s no one around. The chairs in this section are all unoccupied, and the only other beings within sight are a few seagulls screeching their way across the sky.
I can’t believe I just did that.
But, now that I know no one saw, my embarrassment has given way to a smug sense of satisfaction. I glance to Ty, who’s watching me carefully, his hands still resting on my hips. I beam at him, and his lips slide into an arrogant smirk. “Enjoy yourself, did you?”
“Uh, huh. Don’t pretend you didn’t.” I wiggle my ass against him, causing his dick to twitch.
“Wouldn’t even dream of it.” He pulls me back against his chest again, kissing my temple and sliding his hands around to intertwine them with mine. We sit like that, staring out at the sparkling blue water of the Atlantic.
“I can’t believe your parents let you come,” he says, after a minute.
“Me either. Mom must be feeling hella guilty. And Rose knows how to play that string well. I got lucky.” I peer over my borrowed glasses at him. “Not like you, though. Your dad’s awesome.”
His father always lets him do things that most parents wouldn’t. Like, go to hotels with a group of kids and no adult supervision. Or looking the other way at spring break, when Ty and I shared the bed there, even though Ty’s dad promised my parents I’d have my own room in the beach house he’d rented for the week.
Regardless, Ty never takes advantage of it or acts like a spoiled baby. He’s always grateful, strives for good grades, and treats everyone with respect. It’s one of the many reasons I love him.
He releases one of my hands to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I think he’s trying to make up for that fact that it’s just me and him.”
His mom died when Ty was three. The big “C.” Colon cancer. It struck her when she was way too young for the doctors to even consider checking for it. By the time she had symptoms, she was already late-stage, and there was nothing anyone could do. She passed away three months after her diagnosis, leaving Ty’s dad to figure out how to live without her and take care of a toddler who couldn’t understand where his mommy went.
Personally, I think he did a fantastic job.
“Besides,” he says, “your parents aren’t bad. They did let you come to Mexico with us.”
The wood of the chair creaks when I adjust to look at him. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like talking about her.”
There are pictures of her all over the house, but no one ever talks about her. Not even Ty.
“It’s okay.” He pats my hand before retaking it and playing with the ring on my index finger. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk about her; it’s more of a habit since Dad doesn’t. Besides, I don’t really remember her.”
We sit in silence the rest of the time, enjoying each other’s company and listening to the crash of waves against the shoreline. But when my arm starts itching, and I have to fight to not jam my fingers into the cast and scratch like a cat, I groan. “I guess it’s time to go in. The heat is causing my arm to sweat, and it’s itching.”
Without a word, he gently pushes me forward and stands, then holds his hand out to help me to my feet.
“I didn’t think about that,” he says with a frown. “Come on. It’s late anyway.”
“What time is it?”
He tucks my arm through his and leads the way back to the hotel before glancing at his watch. “Quarter to six.”
“Wow. We were out here for four hours?”
“Guess so.” He grins at me, then brings the hand I’ve tucked into his elbow to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Time flies…”
With a delighted blush, I smile and lean my head against his shoulder for a second, enjoying the feeling of butterflies in my stomach for the rest of the walk.
When we reach the door to the room, he asks, “Hungry?”
“Starving.” My stomach takes that moment to growl as if to punctuate my sentence.
He chuckles and lets us into the suite. The second I step in, a squeal breaks the silence. I spin to see where it’s coming from, only to see Leah bearing down on me. Even though she’s smaller than me, it’s startling, and I brace for impact.
She stops just short of tackling me and pulls me into an embrace. “Oh, thank fuck! The accident has been on the news almost non-stop, but no one knows how you escaped without being seriously hurt.” Her voice is all southern magnolias and sweet tea.
She peers into my face, her brown eyes turning sad as she touches the small bruises and burns that are barely visible under the makeup. “You poor thing. What happened?”
Ty steps forward, wrapping his arm around my waist and carefully pulling me tight against him. “She can explain everything at dinner. But, right now, she needs to eat to keep her strength up.”
Leah scowls at him but sighs and nods. “You’re right.”
“Did someone mention food?” Noah calls from the suite’s kitchen.
A half hour later, we shuffle into one of the restaurants along the strip. The hostess leads our group to a table in the far corner, where the shadows are so deep, even the candle that flickers on the checkered tablecloth can’t dispel them. After the hostess gathers our dri
nk orders, Leah leans over, resting her arms on the table.
“What happened, Lil?”
With a glance at Tyler, I decide to go ahead and tell the partial truth. “I’m not exactly sure. They said someone hit me and pushed me through the guardrail. My car rolled, and somehow I managed to get out of the car and swim over to the embankment where the rescue crew found me.” I pause. “But I don’t remember it too well.”
Almost as dramatic as Rose usually is, Leah gasps and runs around the table to hug me again, apologizing when I wince and Ty barks at her that she’s hurting me.
Again she scowls at him, but scoots back over to her chair and I pat Ty’s leg to let him know I’m all right, but I appreciate his mama bear routine.
Of course, I’d never call it that in front of him, I think with an inward snicker.
“You don’t know?” she asks, when she’s settled back into her seat.
I shake my head as the hostess appears with all of our drinks. “My memory of what happened is slightly different.” I take a sip of the sweet tea the hostess places in front of me. “I thought I’d landed in the water, and a boy pulled me out, but apparently there wasn’t anyone with me when they found me. The doctor thinks it’s from the concussion. He said that my brain has received a bad injury and is probably fabricating memories to make up for the ones that are missing.” I shrug but don’t make eye contact with anyone.
Tyler’s hand tightens around mine, and he leans over. “You never told me that,” he whispers.
A glance in his direction shows me there’s hurt in his eyes. I mentally slap myself for saying anything. I should have just repeated what I told him yesterday, or told him my version from the beginning. Besides, sharing my version feels cleansing. I kind of felt like I was keeping something from him by not telling him, and after what happened earlier, I don’t want even that to stand between us.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think I was going crazy.” I duck my head and glance at him under my lashes.
He reaches out and cups my face between his hands, kissing my nose. “I would never think that. You hit your head, Lily. Besides, who’s to say it didn’t happen? The driver could have had a passenger who saved you. And he took off right after so he wouldn’t have to report his buddy.”