Sea of Love (Love in Bloom: The Bradens, Book 4) Contemporary Romance

by Melissa Foster

Waiting will be torturous. “I’m in the car. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He turned the car around with the phone tucked between his ear and his chin. “What are you hungry for?”

  “Your company.”

  DANE STOOD ON Lacy’s front porch with a bottle of wine and his leg bouncing with too much nervous energy to calm. He smoothed his black, short-sleeved button-down shirt against his stomach and checked the drawstring on his linen pants. What is taking her so long? Maybe she’s in the shower. Maybe she changed her mind. Shit.

  He knocked again, and the door swung slowly open, revealing Lacy in a dark blue, off-the-shoulder minidress and sandals, a nervous smile inching across her lips.

  “Hi.” She leaned against the door, looking up at him through wayward curls that hung in front of her eyes.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. Why am I so nervous? He kissed her cheek and couldn’t miss the coconut scent of her shampoo. “Mm. You smell nice, too.”

  “So do you,” she said, closing the door behind him.

  The glass doors to the deck were drawn wide open; the sheer curtains blew in the breeze.

  “You brought wine,” she said, eyeing the bottle. “Let’s open it.”

  He followed her through the living room to the connecting kitchen. His eyes were drawn to the fabric stretched across her hips, the fine outline of a thong evident beneath the sheer material. He felt a familiar tightening between his legs, and he drew his eyes away from Lacy, settling them on the counter beside her.

  “I’m glad you called,” he said.

  She handed him a corkscrew, and he went to work opening the wine, a much appreciated distraction.

  “I can never open those things. The corks just get me all befuddled,” Lacy said. “I’m always afraid I’ll drop the bottle or I’ll stab myself with the corkscrew.”

  “Well, consider me your personal cork remover,” he said, trying not to stare at the silky, tanned skin of her shoulder. “How did you open the wine last night?”

  “Screw top,” she said.

  He lifted his eyes and met hers. She shrugged. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

  “I guess so,” Dane said. He filled their glasses, and they went into the living room and sat on the couch. When Lacy sat, her dress hiked up even farther, revealing the crests of her thighs. She angled her knees toward Dane, and he stretched one arm over the back of the couch.

  “I was really proud of you today,” he said. “I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you, seeing the sharks, touching the pups.”

  Lacy looked at her glass; then she looked up at Dane through her curls. He reached over and used one finger to draw the curls from in front of her eyes.

  “I was proud of myself, too,” she said. “So…you called Danica?”

  Dane closed his eyes. Danica had promised not to tell Lacy unless she asked. I guess she asked. He took a deep breath, ready to be chastised for going behind her back—again. He looked her in the eyes. “Yes. I’m sorry, Lace, but I wanted to help and she knows you so well and she was a therapist. I know you trust her, so…”

  Lacy smiled, then looked down. “It’s okay.” She lifted her eyes to his. “I’m glad you did. That means you care, but just so you know, I don’t like things to be done behind my back. Next time, just tell me or suggest it to me.”

  He let out the breath he’d held in as she spoke. “I talked to her before you even agreed to see me. I couldn’t have mentioned it to you, but I probably should have mentioned it before you found out on your own.”

  “Dane, you do all these wonderful, romantic things for me, and honestly, I love them. But if we ever…you know…move past our friendship to something more, then I won’t ignore your calls and you can’t go behind my back. Deal?”

  He’d agree to just about anything for Lacy, and the fact that she even mentioned moving past their friendship gave him hope. “Absolutely.”

  “And I’m not mad, so there’s no reason for tonight to be weird.” Lacy took a sip of her wine.

  Dane wasn’t used to anything even closely related to real dates, and even though this wasn’t a traditional date, it was still completely different from anything he was used to—and now, no matter what she said, it had a layer of discomfort added to it. Dane was used to showing up, making a move, and moving on. He wanted so much more with Lacy, and if that meant facing the things he’d done, like calling Danica, then so be it. The silence in the room was broken only by the swishing sound of the curtains and the faint sound of the waves breaking on the shore, and it was heightening his nerves.

  “Want to turn on the stereo?” Dane asked.

  “Yeah, sure.” Lacy turned on a local station, and when she returned to the couch, she sat closer to Dane. “I was hoping we could talk.” She ran her finger around the rim of the glass, then stuck her finger in the wine and brought it to her mouth. She licked the sweet nectar from her finger, then drew it out of her mouth slowly.

  Dane bit back a groan. When she licked her lips, he let out a heavy breath.

  “Talk?” Dane repeated. Jesus, you’re killing me.

  “Yeah.” She shrugged. "We know so much about each other, but there’s stuff we don’t know. It might be fun to find out more about each other.” Lacy placed her palm on the couch and leaned toward him. “Unless there are skeletons in your closet, of course.”

  “I’m an open book, Lace. I’ll tell you anything.” He downed the rest of his wine. If she moved any closer, he’d have to kiss her. The blouse of her dress bloomed open, and Dane couldn’t stop his eyes from dropping to the groove between her breasts. She leaned back, just enough to right the neckline, and her nipples tented the fabric. Dane knew just how good her breasts felt in his hands, and now, knowing that she wasn’t wearing a bra made it even more difficult for him to quell the urges that had been building all day.

  Dane refilled his glass and Lacy threw her head back and finished hers in one swift swallow, then held the empty glass out toward Dane.

  “Okay, here goes. Truth or dare?” she said.

  “Truth or dare? I thought we were talking.” He arched a brow. I like where this is going. He could think of about ten things he’d like to dare her to do.

  “This is more fun. I just thought of it. Okay, truth…or dare?” She finished the wine he’d given her, and he took his cue and did the same.

  This is getting interesting.

  Before he could reach for the bottle, Lacy had it in her hand and refilled their glasses.

  “Truth,” he said, although he was dying to know what her dare might be.

  “Okay, this is an easy one. Favorite ice cream?” she asked.

  “That’s not as easy as it sounds. My favorite depends on where I am. If I’m at Ben & Jerry’s, it would be Cherry Garcia, but if I’m at Baskin-Robbins, it’s definitely mint chocolate chip.”

  Lacy twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “Good choices,” she said. “Your turn.”

  Dane watched Lacy finish her wine. “Are you okay, Lace?”

  “Yeah, just a little nervous. Wine helps,” she said.

  “Why are you so nervous? We just spent the day together,” he said.

  “Truth?” she asked.

  “That’s what I’d prefer,” he answered.

  Lacy slipped her feet from her sandals and used the toes of her right foot to scratch the top of her left. “Because I’m trying really hard not to fall for you.”

  He finished his wine in one gulp. Too nervous to figure out if he should tell her that he felt exactly the same way and too afraid that if he did, she’d get scared and send him away, he said, “We have a deal. No falling.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “That wasn’t my question, right? Truth or dare?” Dane couldn’t think of a single appropriate question. He mulled over the ones that were racing through his mind. May I kiss you? Can I run my fingers through your hair? How long do I have to wait to touch you?

  “Dare,” she said, narrowing her blue eyes in a s
eductive, wanting gaze.

  Damn. Dare? What was appropriate for a dare? All Dane could think of were the dares they used to give each other as kids. I dare you to streak across the yard. I dare you to peek into the girl’s locker room shower window. I dare you to steal a beer from Dad’s stash.

  “Dare it is,” he said. “Lace, I’m not very good at these games.” She’d turned into some type of seductress, and now that the tables were turned, he was afraid to dare her to do the wrong thing. Should he ask for something sexual? Is that what she’d expect? Or maybe she was just acting sexy but didn’t want him to go that far. Damn it, he needed advice.

  “Go on, but be gentle. I haven’t played this in twenty years,” she said.

  “Okay. I dare you to get another bottle of wine from your fridge.” What the hell was that?

  Lacy smiled. “I can handle that.”

  Good. Now I can choose dare and see where we’re headed. He watched her carry another wine bottle back to the living room. Each sway of her hips pumped more desire through his veins. She sat beside him, her hips touching his thigh.

  She filled the glasses and handed him one.

  “I thought you wanted to eat dinner,” Dane said.

  “I do,” she answered. “Okay, your turn. Truth or dare?”

  He locked his eyes on hers and said, “Dare.”

  Lacy pointed at him and lowered her chin, looking at him with a seductive leer. “Oh, you naughty boy." She scooted away from him and set the heel of her foot in the space between his thighs, then moved it up until it was against his testicles. “Foot rub?” she asked.

  Dane could hardly breathe. Who was this little sex kitten that had inhabited sweet Lacy? “Foot rub?” he repeated.

  She smiled. “Yup. That’s the dare.”

  Shit, that tells me nothing. Dane took her petite foot between his hands and began to knead the arch of her foot, pushing his thumbs up the center of her arch, then massaging the sides and tops and moving his hands up her ankle. Lacy leaned her head back on a pillow.

  “Good God, that feels good,” she said in a throaty voice.

  He moved his hand up, caressing the soft skin of her calf beneath his strong hands.

  “Lace?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, her eyes still closed.

  “Truth or dare?” he asked. I’m not going to be the one to break the pact. She had to make the first move; otherwise he’d always wonder if he’d pushed himself on her.

  “Truth.”

  “Why did you ask me here tonight?”

  Her smile faded, and she lifted her head. Her dress bloomed open again as she leaned forward and took a long drink of her wine. “I changed my mind. Dare,” she said.

  “I’m not sure changing your mind is fair,” he said.

  “You can dare me anything you want,” she said with a flutter of her lashes.

  Dane clenched his jaw. God, did he have a list for her. He moved his hands up her calf, past her knee, to the warm skin between her thighs, where he rubbed her skin in long, slow strokes. She leaned back on her elbows, her body open to him. Her head fell back, and Dane placed her leg against the back of the couch and positioned himself above her. She opened her eyes, and he lowered his face until her exhalations were his oxygen.

  “I dare you to tell me what you really want from me.” He was hard beneath his pants, and her supple skin called out to him. Her thigh was pinned against the back of the couch by his hip, and as she began to speak, she arched her hips in to him.

  “Everything,” she whispered, and slipped her hand inside his pants, then wrapped her hand around him. “Everything, Dane. I want everything from you.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her hard, pressing her into the cushions. Their tongues pushed their way into each other’s mouths like they were each searching for the last breath on earth. Dane reached over his back with one arm and drew his shirt over his head. His body was on fire as he lowered his mouth to her chin, nipping at the hard edge of her jaw, then taking her neck between his lips and sucking until she pulled at the drawstring of his pants and drew them down with her hands, exposing his hard shaft. Then she used her feet to push them all the way off. Dane moved down her body, tugging her dress down to her waist and trapping her arms against her. He took one breast in his mouth, sucking until she cried out. Then he moved to the other and did the same; her nipple pebbled beneath his tongue. He had to have more of her, every inch of her. He lifted his naked body off of her and untied the silk belt from around her waist, then pulled her dress over her head and dropped it to the floor. Her body was like a sculpture of smooth curves and full, rounded breasts. She pulled him to her, taking his nipple in her mouth and biting—hard.

  “Aaah.” He winced.

  “You like that?” she asked.

  Dane could barely think past the ache to make love to her. “I like everything you do,” he said.

  She took the other nipple in her mouth and sucked, her teeth moving roughly over his tender skin. She slithered down beneath him and took him in her mouth.

  Dane sucked in a breath. Jesus, he felt like he was going to come. She sucked and licked, using her hand to bring him right to the edge.

  “Stop, Lace,” he urged.

  She continued sucking until he had to reposition his body and lay down on the couch beneath her, his eyes closed, relishing in the zeal of her lust. She tucked her feet beneath her body, positioning herself between his legs. Then she drew her tongue up his body. She sucked his neck, as he’d done to her, and then her mouth covered his. He felt her reaching out to the side with her right hand, and he opened his eyes. Her fingers returned with the silk tie of her dress. Her eyes alit with mischief, she wrapped the silk around his wrist, then lifted his hands above his head and bound them together with the silky restraint.

  “Lacy?” Dane had played bondage games before, but he was always the aggressor. Now, beneath Lacy, he wasn’t sure what to expect, but if he’d allow any woman to tie him up, it would only be her.

  She raised her eyebrows and kissed him again. “Yes?”

  Too many things were running through his head. He couldn’t weed through them fast enough to make sense of them. Fuck me? Let me tie you up?

  “Truth or dare?” she said in a deep, seductive voice.

  “Truth?” he asked.

  “How long’s it been since you were with another woman? Exactly?” She settled her hips over his. His erection lay between them like a dare.

  He closed his eyes. He knew exactly how long it had been. He’d met Lacy fifteen months ago, and he’d stopped sleeping with other women four months later. But he couldn’t tell her that. What kind of man relies on his own hand to satiate a need that’s driven into him night after night by a woman who’s too far away to touch?

  “Lace, please,” he said.

  She lowered her chest until her nipple touched his lip. “I could give you a dare,” she said. “You’re in a precarious position to carry out a dare.” She glanced down at his erection, then slithered down his body and licked the length of him again. “Exactly how long?”

  Dane closed his eyes. “Eleven months,” he whispered.

  Lacy sat up and shook her head.

  “Eleven months, okay? Eleven fucking months.”

  “Eleven months?” she repeated. “If you don’t tell the truth, the punishment might be harsh,” she said in a shaky voice.

  “Lace, it’s true. It’s fucking embarrassing as shit, but it’s true. Eleven months. Remember that night you told me about your father? The night you cried?”

  She wrinkled her forehead. “Yeah.” Her voice was just above a whisper.

  Dane remembered it like it was yesterday. He’d wanted to climb through the computer monitor and hold her until her tears dried and he knew she was safe.

  “I knew that night that I couldn’t be with anyone else. Not while my heart was becoming yours.” He looked away, his erection faltering. He lowered his hands and began untying the bindings. “I’
m sorry, Lace,” he said. “You’re the last person on earth I ever wanted to hurt.” He reached for his clothes.

  “Dane,” she said. “I was trying…to seduce you.”

  “You’re a great seductress, Lace. But you don’t even have to try. You had me the minute I met you in Nassau.” His heart ached for Lacy, for the hurt in her eyes and the embarrassment that rose on her cheeks. But mostly, his heart ached for himself and the reality that who he had been would never change—even if he’d stopped being that person eleven months ago.

  “I’m sorry I killed the mood. My history is always going to be between us. It’s the one thing I can’t change.”

  He handed Lacy her dress, and she held it against her shivering body. Dane put on his pants and went to the glass doors. He closed and locked them, then grabbed a throw from a chair and wrapped it around Lacy’s shoulders.

  “You don’t have to stay for the rest of the week, Lace. Nothing I do will ever change the man I was.”

  “Wait, please,” she said, stopping him in his tracks. “The other night, when you said you had women all over the world, I thought you had been with them more recently. Eleven months, Dane, that’s almost a year.”

  “I’m well aware of every day, every second, every hour.” Dane’s heart was shattering inside his chest. He didn’t need to remember all the nights he’d longed for Lacy’s touch and had to satisfy himself, or the multitude of midnight hours he’d spent staring at the photos she’d emailed him, wondering what it would be like to kiss her. He needed to go away. Far away. Someplace he wouldn’t see Lacy’s face in every cloud.

  “I’m not judging you, Dane,” she said. “I asked that question expecting an answer of a few months, maybe two or three. I don’t know. That would have made me feel better. I never imagined it had been that long.”

  “Now you know.” He couldn’t change the fact that he hadn’t gone to see her in fifteen months, and he couldn’t change the number of months and years he’d slept with random women—all of which made him too upset to think straight. He couldn’t think clearly enough to comprehend what she was trying to say. He looked away, and Lacy wrapped her arms around him from behind. He felt her cheek against his back.