Sex on the Beach (Southern Comfort Book 2)

by Melanie Shawn

  The wind roared past the opening of the small enclosure where we’d taken shelter, sounding like a freight train bearing down on us, and that added to the heightened sense of things, too. I was close to going up and over the edge and I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer.

  Everything had started so fast and furiously that I hadn’t been able to make sure she was taken care of first. I might be crazed with a beastly appetite for Bella, but that wasn’t going to cloud my judgment when it came to her satisfaction. I needed to get her there and I needed to do it quickly.

  Keeping one arm wrapped around her, I ran the other one up her body. I hooked my thumb in the strap of her tank top and pulled it down roughly, exposing her bare breast. As soon I freed her nipple, I lowered my head and covered it with my mouth, and bit down on her tightened bud.

  “Ahh!” Her inner walls clamped down on me as she arched her back, pressing her breast farther into my mouth.

  I tore the other side of her shirt down, cupped her left breast and pinched her nipple.

  “Yes!” she cried out as her body began to shake.

  Using sexual willpower I didn’t even know I possessed, I managed to hang on as her body milked me and she came apart in my arms. I didn’t slow my rhythm and continued to shower attention on her chest with my mouth and hand. Her fingers threaded through my hair and she urged my head even closer to her body.

  Once I felt her beginning to relax, I took the safety off and let myself go. A harsh groan of satisfaction ripped from my chest as I pushed one final plunge into her tight passage, burying myself to the hilt. I held myself there as fireworks of ecstasy exploded from head to toe.

  As the sprinkle of euphoria dust began to wear off and I slowly became aware of my surroundings again, I realized that the woman I’d just taken in a dark damp cave had been a virgin a little over twenty-four hours ago. Instantly, I was wracked with guilt.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  I’d been reckless before, but I’d never been this selfish, and especially not with someone I cared about like I did Bella. That would be impossible, really, because I’d never cared about anyone like I cared about her.

  “I’m sorry…” I lifted my head and looked down into her eyes, my body still inside hers. I had more to say, but the bewildered look in her still-hooded eyes caused me to pause. She didn’t look upset at all, just confused. “What?”

  “Do you always apologize after sex?”

  The sincere earnestness in her question took me by surprise and my head fell back and I cracked up.

  I’d definitely never belly laughed while still being inside someone before. And I’d never been in love before. But I definitely was now.

  CHAPTER 22

  Isabella

  I shut off the hot water spray and felt a twinge of discomfort as I reached for the towel, just out of reach on the counter. My body ached in places I didn’t know it could ache. But since my discomfort was the consequence of two of the best nights of my life, I wasn’t complaining.

  The terrycloth brushed against my fingertips as I heard my phone vibrate from the bedroom. My foot almost slid out from beneath me as I scrambled to answer the call. Excitement filled me as I rushed into the next room. For some inexplicable reason I was sure that it was Jimmy.

  When I saw the name that appeared on my screen, a cold bucket of ice water was dumped over my enthusiasm.

  For a moment I thought it must be a mistake. My father was calling me. Not one of his three assistants. It was the man himself. His private number. The one that I was told to only use in life or death emergencies. The one that I’d never seen appear on my screen.

  My stomach rumbled and it had nothing to do with the three cinnamon rolls I’d scarfed down this morning. I always got nervous when I had interactions with my father. I knew that might not be how other people responded when they spoke to their parents, but to be fair, other people didn’t have Miles Santini as a father.

  Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and pressed the green answer icon. “Hello.”

  “What are you doing in Georgia?”

  I blinked at his harsh tone. He was displeased with me; his inflection left no room for interpretation on that point. I’d never gone anywhere without telling him before, so I assumed his irritation must be due to that.

  “I’m visiting Mrs. B. She was my nanny before mom died.”

  There was silence over the phone. My knee-jerk reaction was to fill the silence by explaining myself. But I was done worrying about making sure other people were comfortable. I’d done that all my life and it was exhausting. My father called me. If he had something to say, then he needed to say it. If not, he could hang up.

  After at least a full minute, which felt longer than I would’ve thought, he spoke. “When will you be home?”

  “I don’t know. I have twelve weeks of vacation time.”

  The only reason I had three months of vacation time and not nine months was because I’d lost the rest due to our rollover policy. I’d been working for my father since I was eighteen. I’d worked for him while I attended college since ninety percent of my classes were online. It wasn’t by choice. My preference would’ve been to go to school fulltime, but he’d refused to pay for my education unless I did things his way.

  Not that I didn’t appreciate not having student loans, but I was just tired of doing things his way.

  And my new independence wasn’t about the money I’d inherited. It had never been about the money. I’d honestly wanted to have a good relationship with my father. He was the only family I had, and I’d really hoped that one day we would get to know each other and maybe even be close. I’d twisted myself into a pretzel trying to fit the mold of what I assumed he wanted in a daughter. But it was never enough. I never quite fit. Or even came close to fitting.

  And now, I was done wasting time trying to be something that I wasn’t, or attempting to make someone love me, even if it was my father. I couldn’t live for other people anymore. I just didn’t have the time to waste.

  Which was why I’d decided to take my vacation time, finally. In the eight years I’d worked for Santini Industries, I’d never even called in sick. I hadn’t ever wanted it to seem like I was getting preferential treatment as the boss’s daughter. Not that anyone thought that.

  Miles Santini spoke to me less than he did any of his other executives. He barely acknowledged my existence at all. For a while, I’d convinced myself that his reason for ignoring my existence was to avoid the appearance of nepotism, but since he spoke to me even less when I lived at home, I knew that wasn’t the case.

  “I’m in London next week,” he stated.

  “Okay.”

  “I’d like to see you before I go.”

  My jaw dropped. He’d never said that he wanted to see me before. My first impulse was to get on the next plane home. But that was the old Isabella. The new Isabella was in control of my life, whatever life I had left. I wasn’t going to jump at the chance to get a scrap of attention from a man that had never seemed to want to have anything to do with me.

  “Well, if I’m not back by then, it’s only a two-hour flight to Firefly.”

  I heard an audible exhale, and then the line went dead. No goodbye. No I love you. Just no longer on the phone.

  As much as I tried not to let it affect me, I couldn’t deny the sting of rejection that I felt. It had always been that way with my father. I would tell myself he wasn’t worth being upset over, but inevitably it would take me a few days to repair the damage to my self-worth that he could inflict in a matter of seconds.

  But this time, I did find it a little easier than I had in the past. That could be because my diagnosis had given me a new outlook on life, on time, and I just wasn’t going to allow a second of my happiness to be stolen from me. Or it could be because I was a different person now than I had been a week ago. Either way, I had my diagnosis to thank for my ability to bounce back so much easier and faster than I ever ha
d before.

  I pulled out my list and counted how many of the 172 things I’d already crossed off. I’d lived more in the past ten days than I had in the past quarter of a century.

  My phone rang again and again my heart skipped like a girl playing double Dutch in hopes that it would be one Mr. Jimmy Comfort.

  When Jimmy had dropped me off the night before, he’d given me a kiss that would’ve made Madonna blush. I’d stumbled into Mrs. B’s drunk, and not off the Sweet Tea Moonshine. I’d been intoxicated by Jimmy. He’d poisoned my bloodstream.

  I’d been so tipsy off of his ninety-proof smooch that I hadn’t realized until I woke up this morning that we hadn’t made any plans to see each other again. I grabbed the phone, sure that it would be his name displayed on the screen.

  I’d been half right. It was a Comfort, just not Jimmy.

  “Hey, Cheyenne.” My voice was a little more chipper than usual due to overcompensating for the disappointment I was experiencing.

  “Hi! I just wanted to thank you for the tests. They just showed up at my door.”

  “No problem.” I’d had them rush delivered. It wasn’t as if I’d been close to either of my parents, but I did find some reassurance in knowing who they were. I could only imagine that it must be something Cheyenne would want to get resolved as soon as possible.

  “I asked my brothers and they all agreed to give me DNA samples. I’m going to collect them today and get them sent off.”

  I’d made a note in the account that the tests were A1 priority so I assumed the results would be back within the next couple of days. I just hoped that the outcome was what she was hoping it would be. “That’s great!”

  “Do you have plans for tonight?”

  Sadly, no.

  “Nope.”

  “Well, you do now. I want to take you out as a thank you.”

  “You really don’t have to do that.”

  “I know I don’t. I’m gonna text Nadia and Reagan, too. We can have a girl’s night. I’ll pick you up at seven. Mrs. B’s, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “See ya tonight.”

  “See ya.” I hung up the phone, happy to finally have a person in my life that I felt I could call a friend.

  As much as I would’ve liked to see Jimmy that night, a girl’s night might be just what I needed. And, hey, I could check off number sixty-five. Girl’s night.

  CHAPTER 23

  Jimmy

  “Haven’t seen ya around much this week.” Cash, who was my brother Billy’s best friend and second in command at the bar, smiled as I took a seat on the stool across from him. “I’m guessing it has something to do with Chy’s friend.”

  It was weird thinking of Bella as Cheyenne’s friend. Almost as weird as Cash calling my sister Chy. I’d been wondering for a while what was going on there. It was obvious that Cash and Cheyenne gravitated toward one another, but they both denied that anything was happening whenever they were questioned about it.

  I had a feeling that might be due to Billy puffin’ out his chest and going into full-blown big brother protective mode whenever Cheyenne was around. When we were little, Billy and my mama had nicknamed her Shadow because, apparently, she used to follow him around all the time. I had no memory of it, but it was clear even now that my two middle siblings shared a close bond. Just like it was clear, to me at least, that Cash was in love with my sister.

  Instead of addressing the comment he’d made about Bella, I smiled at the poor bastard and asked, “So when are you gonna tell him?”

  Cash’s brows scrunched. “Tell who? What?”

  “Tell Billy boy that you are in love with Chy.” I made sure to emphasize the nickname he’d given her.

  Cash’s jaw tensed. “We’re just friends.”

  With that unconvincing declaration, he moved to the other end of the bar. I had to admit, I actually felt sorry for the man. He obviously had it bad for my sister, and unlike me, who thought they’d make a cute couple, Billy didn’t want his friend anywhere near his Shadow.

  Just like everything these days, my line of thinking led me right back to Bella. I wondered if she had any siblings. I hadn’t googled her, even though considering her father was Miles Santini, I was sure I’d be able to find some information on her. But I felt like that was cheating somehow. If I wanted to know something about her, I figured I should go straight to the source and ask her.

  Unfortunately, I had no idea when I was going to be seeing the source again.

  I checked my phone for probably the hundredth time that day. Every time I did, I just knew that I’d see that I’d missed a call or a text from Bella. And every time I was proven wrong.

  She’d yet to be the one that initiated any sort of contact and I had to admit, it was getting to me. I’d never cared before about being the one to set up hanging out with women. If anything, I’d appreciated being left alone, rather than bothered by women trying to get in touch with me. But it was different with Bella.

  I couldn’t get a handle on what was going on in that gorgeous head of hers. She was so open, honest, and vulnerable. That was clear. But at the same time, there was definitely something that she was holding back—a part of her that was guarded. If it were anyone else, I would assume that they must be hiding something really deceptive, such as being in a relationship.

  It wasn’t the first time a woman had come down to Firefly Island for vacation, hooked up with a local, and then gone back home to their significant other like nothing had happened. Forget Vegas, the saying might as well have been What Happens in Firefly, Stays in Firefly.

  I didn’t get that vibe from Bella, but even if that were the case, I wasn’t sure it would make a difference to me. She was the worst kind of trouble. She was the kind that I wanted to run toward when what I should really be doing was running away.

  Which is why I found myself sitting at the bar with my thumbs hovering over my screen, getting ready to text her, when the door opened behind me and I heard a sound that I instantly recognized. It was Bella laughing. I’d know it anywhere.

  Without turning around, I knew what I would see when I did. I got that funny feeling in my belly that I did every time we were in a room together, right before I laid eyes on her.

  The closest thing to it I’d ever felt before was the feeling that I got when I went on a roller coaster and the cart was climbing up, about to make a steep drop. That was the feeling I got whenever she was near. Probably because I knew as soon as I saw her, I’d be falling again.

  Not able to help myself, I turned my head. The moment I did, just like every other time I saw her, the bottom dropped out. I had no safety net. I was freefalling.

  Bella stood in the center, my sister on one side, and the woman I would soon be calling sister—if Billy had anything to say about it, at any rate—on the other side. He’d been trying to put a ring on Reagan for months. If I were a betting man, I’d put money on him wearing her down. Eventually.

  I watched Bella enter the room, taking her in from a distance. Brunette locks framed her sweetheart-shaped face. She wore a low-cut, red T-shirt that hugged her curves, and jeans that did the same. I could feel the energy in the place shift as the trio made their entrance.

  I knew that every guy in the place was drooling over her, and I didn’t blame them. Still, something about seeing her out “in the wild” ignited my most primitive and primal instincts to rise up in me. I knew I was the only man that had ever seen what those curves looked like naked. I was the only man that had touched those curves with his hands, his lips, his tongue.

  From across the crowded space, my eyes locked with hers. She smiled, shyly, and lifted her hand in a small wave. Unable to stop myself, I stood from my stool and stalked toward her. Before I made it halfway, I saw Knox Montgomery step in front of her. I could no longer see her face, now blocked by Knox’s broad shoulders.

  I’d been friends with Knox since we were in diapers. We’d always been competitive. It started with racing our Big Wheel tricyc
les and continued on to fuel some of the most epic showdowns Firefly had ever seen. There was the dodgeball championship in fifth grade. Our teams made it to the finals where Knox and I faced one another, both captains of our respective teams. It ended in bloody noses, a broken wrist, and the ambulance being called.

  In high school, we’d both gotten it into our dumbass heads that we should play chicken with our four-wheelers. Neither of us bailed. We both ended up in the ER with stitches and broken bones.

  And when it came to the opposite sex—well let’s just say Bella wouldn’t be the first girl’s attention we’d both wanted. But she was the first one that, for me, it wasn’t about winning. This wasn’t about any sort of pissing contest with Knox. This was about one thing and one thing only. Bella.

  “Jimmy!” Clyde, one of the three wise men—or stooges, dependin’ on who you asked—slapped me on my shoulder. I could smell the whiskey on his breath. “You look like a man on a mission.”

  I was.

  With a grin, I dipped my chin in acknowledgment, but didn’t break my stride. I was only distracted for a second, but when I looked back, I saw someone else had joined the group I was headed toward. Nadia Carson had hooked her arm through Bella’s and was shooing Knox away.

  If memory served, Nadia and Knox had been there, done that, so to speak. I couldn’t catch everything that she was saying, but I did hear the phrase “girl’s night.” I was glad that Knox took the L on that one. If I’d made it to them first, chances were Cheyenne would be telling me the same thing.

  Instead of forging ahead with my mission, I made a tactical decision to fall back. The key to any war was knowing when to retreat in battle. And I knew that there was no mistake about it: if Knox was interested, this was war.

  CHAPTER 24

  Isabella