The lifeguards on this stretch of public beach had long since gone home. Even if someone sat at the station, watching over the water, she had left her suit at home. She’d selected a pale blue sundress that hugged her curves and showed off her long legs for tonight’s confrontation—and boring, white underwear because this was a meeting.
This is not a date, she thought. But I still blew out my hair and curled the ends into perfect ringlets.
If she had been meeting the real Philip Ryder—not that he existed beyond the Fated for Love site—she would have spent time on her make-up too.
“And I wouldn’t be lugging juice across the sand,” she muttered. Glancing down, she picked her way around another large patch of seaweed. The large rocks stood about fifteen feet from her. The town had moved the boulders in years ago to prevent the waves from taking out the seawall during a storm.
Where was he?
She scanned the smooth sand at the foot of the rocks. Either someone had taken the time to clear the seaweed or the water had washed it away. The latter seemed unlikely given the debris left behind by the recent high tide on the rest of the beach.
She reached the base of the rocks. Another raindrop fell in front of her. She followed the droplet’s path. Then her lips parted, and her eyes widened. More raindrops fell, all landing in letters drawn in the packed sand.
“Magic this way,” she whispered. An arrow that resembled a strange moat without a castle pointed down the coast. If she kept walking, she would reach a private stretch of beach. Of course, the state owned everything to the high-water line. She wouldn’t be trespassing if she continued on, even if she went farther and reached the Breakers’ Hotel property.
She followed the arrow. Five steps forward and she saw more letters.
“Sweet,” she read.
The rain continued to come in fits and starts as she approached the next word. The storm would be there soon, and when it arrived, the rain would wash the writing away.
“Strong,” she said before moving to the next word. “Daring.”
“That’s how I see you, Lucy.”
Her gaze snapped from the sand to Jared. He’d stripped off his tailored jacket, but otherwise he looked like he belonged behind his desk. His black dress shoes sank into the sand, and she could see pieces of seaweed on his suit pants. Sure, he’d rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, but he hadn’t bothered changing before he’d knelt in the sand and written these words.
“You lied to me, Jared.” A plump, warm raindrop landed on her nose, and she wiped it away. “First you stalked me with juice, and then you lied to me.”
“I wanted to get your attention.” He smiled as he spoke.
She blinked. Where was the groveling? The apology for deceiving her?
“And now you’re sorry?” She cradled the juice pack in her arms.
“That I got your attention?” He shook his head, still grinning as if this was all a joke. “That we had an honest conversation? No, I’m not sorry.”
“I thought you were someone else,” she said flatly.
“No, Lucy.” He stepped forward and raised his hand to her face. His palm cradled her cheek. “For the first time, you saw me.”
“A liar.” Her gaze locked with his playful, blue eyes.
“A man willing to go to crazy lengths for a date with you.” He dropped his hands from her cheek. He reached for the juice boxes hugged tightly against her chest. Gradually, she released her hold on the mixed berry packs. He carried them over to a large, black blanket that looked like it belonged in his expensive mansion, draped over the bed fit for the billionaire, not playing beach towel. “Let’s eat the tacos before they get cold, and you can tell me how you discovered the truth.”
“After all I’ve been through,” she said, her voice rising. “You expect me to sit down with a person who used a fake profile?”
“Just because you didn’t trust you ex—”
“You lied to me,” she ground out. This wasn’t about her former fiancé. For the first time in months, this wasn’t about her ex. “You lied.”
“I did.” He lowered down to the blanket. He stretched his legs our in front of him and began to unpack The Taco Bar to-go bag. “Now you need to decide if you can live with that.”
The groveling is so not happening.
She watched as he unwrapped a soft shell taco. She didn’t want Jared Mitchell on his knees, begging her forgiveness. She’d heard empty apologies before.
And she could live with the deception. She wouldn’t be standing on the beach in near darkness, with a storm looming off the coast if she couldn’t. He’d fought for her attention, damn it. Her former fiancé had lied to her. Her ex had broken her trust and fractured her heart.
Then he’d walked away as if she had never been worth fighting for in the first place. And the worst part of the whole mess? She’d seen the signs long before he cheated on her. They’d been engaged for over a year, but he never could set a date. It was as if a fiancée was something he liked to have waiting for him at home, not unlike a couch or a comfortable bed. Not something anyone would fight to keep.
She moved to the edge of the blanket. “And if I can’t live with it?”
“Why are you here?” He looked up at her. “If what I did was so awful, why did you ask to meet? I knew you’d learned the truth the moment I read your text. I’m not sure how—”
“Delaney showed me the picture she took.”
He nodded and then shrugged. “You would have found out eventually.”
He set the cardboard to-go box on the blanket and reached for the juice. He tore off the plastic, took out a box, and freed the straw. Then he stabbed it into the box and wrapped his lips around it.
He should look innocent, sipping mixed berry on the beach.
The sight of his lips on the straw brought her back to her kitchen. He’d listened to her. He’d heard what she wanted and he’d done everything in his power to deliver.
“You wrote exactly what I wanted to hear.” She lowered down to the blanket and reached for the tacos. “It was all right there in Philip Ryder’s profile. You were my dream date.” She looked at him as she raised the first soft-shell veggie taco to her lips. Before she bit into Minny’s creation, she asked, “Was any of it real? Or was this some big game for you?”
“You’re my best friend’s sister. Finn is the closest thing I have to family. My mom has spent the past fifteen years visiting one rehab facility after another. My dad walked away and never looked back. Finn is my family and you’re his.” His smile faded for the first time since she’d found him on the beach. “I’m not toying with you. This wasn’t a game. I wrote what you wanted to hear so that you would give me a shot. You were so damn intent on pushing me away.”
“You don’t believe in magic and happy endings,” she pointed out, setting the half-eaten taco back in the box.
“No, I don’t.” He tossed the juice box aside. His left hand reached for her right. Staring out at the violent water, he covered her hand with his.
The tension she’d carried since her meeting with Delaney unraveled. Slowly. Her lips parted, and she inhaled the salty air. He could have lied and said he’d changed his mind. He could have pretended she’d opened his eyes to fireworks and passion.
“You don’t believe, but you came after me anyway,” she said.
He nodded. “When I go to work in the morning, I know what I’m going to do that day. Every meeting, every decision has a single-minded goal—turn a profit for our fund.” He turned to her, shifting his hips so that his torso faced hers. “I look at you and I want to hand you those damn fireworks you’ve been looking for on a platter. If I could figure out how . . . and not lose you.”
He raised his free hand to her face. His fingers brushed her hair back and she felt a shiver run through her. Gently, he tucked one of her damp curls behind her ear. “Every time you wrote to Philip, I saw a new side of this woman I thought I knew. You were the sweet, heartbroken girl. B
ut then you ask about handcuffs—”
“You started it with that picture.” She searched his expression. And for the first time, she saw a hint of confusion. The billionaire bachelor stayed one step ahead. He won. At work. At life. At everything.
Until now.
She tilted her head, leaning into his touch. Two more raindrops landed on her face, but she ignored them. “Tell me the truth, Jared. Is that what you’re into? Bondage? Are you a closeted Christian Grey?”
“No. No.” He let out a laugh. Then he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. The hand toying with her hair shifted to the back of her neck. And he held her there. “No. I’m into you. I’m lost in you. But I don’t know how to deliver the first-date fireworks you’re looking for. I don’t have a plan, Lucy. Every time I thought I’d found the way to give you what you want, there was a new piece of the puzzle.”
“I’m not complicated.”
“You are. You’re charming, Lucy. But you’re also wild and—”
“Daring?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She pulled her right hand free from his and reached for him. Foreheads still touching, she interlaced her fingers behind his head. He’d lied to her. But she could live with that.
“I have a plan,” she whispered.
He ran his hand up her bare arm. “A magical plan?”
“Kiss me.” She drew her head away from his and felt his hold on her tighten. “Just kiss me, Jared.”
His lips touched hers. Gently. As if she might break. As if he wondered if he’d already broken her.
She tightened her hold on him, running her fingers through his short, wavy hair. She drew him closer. He let out a low groan. But he kept his lips soft against hers.
“Once.” She whispered the word against his mouth. “Upon a time,” she continued, pausing to tease his lips with her tongue. “You kissed me.” She pressed her mouth to his and tasted restraint. Then she pulled back just enough. “You kissed me and told me to show you who I am.”
She shifted to her right, fighting for balance and failing. She tumbled deeper into the kiss. Still, holding tight to him, she slipped her left leg over him and climbed onto his lap. “Give me a second chance to show you,” she said. “Don’t hold back. Let me kiss you.”
She rocked her hips against his. And finally, he let go.
He consumed her. The waves crashed behind her back as if urging them on. She listened. Her tongue touched his, and she tasted a wild need that belonged in a bedroom.
His hands felt as if they were everywhere at once—in her hair, on her neck, running down her arms, pushing her dress up over her thighs.
She broke the kiss, still cradling his head in her hands. “We can’t,” she murmured. “Not here. The sun is still up. Sort of.”
The last hint of daylight illuminated the dark clouds. If a surfer decided to take advantage of the waves, or someone stepped out to walk their dog before the storm, they would see her dress decorating her waist.
She glanced down between their bodies. His perfect abs were hidden beneath his dress shirt, but she could feel them contracting. Beneath the blue fabric covering her stomach, her underwear glowed bright white against his dark suit pants.
“I’m not wearing my cute underwear,” she said.
His hands ran down from her waist to the white elastic hugging her hips. One finger slipped beneath the band, teasing the sensitive skin below. “We can fix that.” He drew the elastic down an inch. “Take them off.”
Behind her, the waves crashed over and over. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
No one is coming out tonight, she thought.
She slid off his lap long enough to discard her panties. She moved quickly. But he was faster. He stripped off his pants and boxers. Then he retrieved a condom from his wallet and started unbuttoning his shirt. He began with the last button, allowing the shirttails to part. His cock rose up, long, thick, and ready for attention.
“Come back here, Lucy.”
His low voice pulled her attention away from his erection. He’d bared his abs, but his button-down still covered his shoulders.
The picture-perfect naked businessman on the beach.
No matter how many Jared Mitchell fantasies she indulged in, her imagination couldn’t compete with reality.
A wave crashed behind her, and the water sprayed her back. She glanced over her shoulder at the rough water and empty expanse of beach.
She looked back at him. “Jared, I can’t sit on the beach without my underwear.”
“Stop sabotaging your plan, princess.” He pulled her onto his lap. His bare legs rubbed against her inner thighs. If she shifted her hips forward, his erection would touch the blond curls between her legs.
But he didn’t reach for her. Instead, he pushed the take-out bag into the sand. The juice boxes followed, landing in a pile of seaweed. Then he gathered the blanket and drew it around their bodies. He built a makeshift fortress of fabric around their hips. If anyone walked by, they would see her perched on his lap. If they walked close, they’d see her hips rocking forward, eager to feel his hard length against her skin. A curious surfer might guess what they were doing. But no one could see.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he adjusted the covering. The sand, the sea, the fresh air—it was all still there. But he’d created a place just for them beneath the blanket.
“Just doing my part to deliver your dream beach date. Long walks on the beach. Followed by . . . ” He moved his arm between them, and brushed her leg as it disappeared into the space hidden from view.
“Jared,” she gasped, rocking forward. But his hand wasn’t there to greet her eager hips. She glanced down at the space between them.
“For the record, I’m glad you didn’t take me to The Taco Bar for our first date.” He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock.
She followed his fingers, memorizing the tension and moment. He stroked up to the tip and released. The condom appeared out of thin air—or the packet he’d produced while she’d tossed her panties aside. He drew it down to the base of his cock.
“Out here,” he continued, “the sound of the ocean will cover up your screams.” Holding on to her hip, he guided her forward and over his waiting erection. With one hand firmly at the base of his cock, he glided the tip back and forth over her. “Look at me, Lucy.”
“I am,” she murmured as the first inch disappeared inside her. The first hint of an explosion teased her body as she stretched to accommodate him.
“Up here, Lucy.”
She lifted her gaze to meet his. There was laughter in his eyes—and heat—but not a glimpse of uncertainty.
“I’m going to make you scream with pleasure.” He drew her down another inch and then held her hips steady.
She reached for him, wrapping her hands around his biceps. Her fingernails dug into his dress shirt. “I dare you . . . ”
The roar of the storm-teased ocean drowned out her voice. She kept her gaze locked with his as he pushed deeper and deeper.
Boom, she thought.
The first shudder of pleasure sparked. Behind her, a wave hit the sand and rushed out. The sound of the ocean echoed the crashing need rolling up inside her, reaching closer and closer . . .
“Oh God, Jared,” she groaned and closed her eyes.
Raindrops landed on her face and soaked through his white shirt. She rocked her hips harder and faster against him. And he gave her everything. He met each thrust of her hips, rocking up into her. The blanket surrounding them—their fortress—grew wet and heavy.
Her body exploded, and she swore she saw colors. The entire rainbow erupted inside her and all around her, undaunted by the storm.
“Fireworks?” he growled.
His biceps tensed beneath her hands. His hips thrust once, twice, and then stilled. He shuddered beneath her. And the rain fell harder, coming in quick, insistent sheets. They were soaked. But still . . .
“Fireworks,” she moaned as
the last spark of her orgasm slipped away as if the tide had dragged it out to sea.
But the water always came back. The waves shifted to peaceful and pleasant, yet the wild storm was never far away.
“Beautiful, magical fireworks.” She opened her eyes and saw his smug satisfaction. “Please tell me there is an encore.”
He reached up and brushed her wet, dripping hair out her face. “The bedroom show starts as soon as we get out of this storm.”
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. A quick brush, just enough to taste the rain and know he was real. This was real. She never would have dreamed, never would have guessed.
Thunder rumbled. Not overhead, not yet, but the storm was closing in on them.
“Lucy?”
“I’m fine,” she said softy. “I’m great. I just never imagined that happiness looked like this—a unicorn in a rainstorm.”
Unicorns aren’t real, a tiny voice inside her head warned her.
But that didn’t change the fact that she believed in them. Just like she trusted Jared and this perfect moment.
Chapter 16
Lucy Linden Fantasy Number One involved his desk. Fantasy Number Two featured his bedroom. His shower played a key role in the third. A public beach in the middle of a thunderstorm hadn’t made the list. And he’d never pictured her rambling about horned horses after sex.
“Did you just call me a unicorn?” he asked mildly.
“Yes.” She cradled his face between her palms. Then she dropped a kiss on his lips before releasing him. “Yes, I did.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You can explain that insight into Lucy’s dating world later. Right now, we need to get out of this storm. We can make it to my car in five minutes if we run.”
Thunder rumbled overhead as he gently shifted her off him. He pulled on his pants and fastened the closure at the top. His phone vibrated against his leg, signaling an incoming message or voicemail. He ignored it. Instead, he turned and tossed everything onto the wet blanket—the taco container, the juice box, and her plain, white panties.
The Cinderella Fantasy (Playing the Princess Book 1) Page 10