by Allie Gail
“I thought we’d already established that simple and direct is the most effective method of communication.”
“Oh, it’s effective, all right.” Straightening, she hands me a smooth spotted cowrie shell. “Here. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”
Inspecting the wet shell, I pocket it with a sly smile. “I’d never be able to say that, now would I?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Dr. Becker.”
“Don’t knock the gutter until you’ve wallowed in it, Miss Lane. And since we’re on the subject, did you know that cowrie shells represent fertility? In some cultures, they’re given to new brides to ensure an abundance of healthy offspring.”
She grimaces in mock horror. “Yikes. Maybe you better throw it back in the water.”
“No. You gave it to me. It’s mine now.”
“Fine,” she giggles. “When you end up with an overabundance of healthy offspring, don’t come crying to me.”
“What? You mean you wouldn’t be available to babysit my quintuplets?”
“Not just no, but hell no. Especially if they take after their father!”
“Now, I find that insulting. Everyone can tell you I was the most well-behaved child to ever…um, to ever...” Pressing my lips together, I shake my head before succumbing to a laugh. “Damn. I can’t even say that with a straight face.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t. Lightning might strike you dead for telling such a whopper.” Cutting her eyes sideways, she gives me a curious look. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Certainly.”
There is a brief hesitation before she continues. “Why’d you tell everyone I had herpes?”
Oh, shit on a shamrock. I might have known at some point that would come up. Still, I’d held out a faint hope that she’d somehow developed temporary amnesia and forgotten all about it.
“I didn’t tell everyone. Just Jake. I didn’t think he’d go and blab it all over school.”
She frowns slightly. “Why’d you tell him that then?”
“You want the truth?”
“I would prefer that to a big fat lie, yes.”
I flash her my most disarming smile, but all I get in return is an unimpressed eye roll. “Oh, how I’ve missed your witty repartee.”
“Uh-huh.” Unlacing her fingers from mine, she plants both hands on her hips and stops in her tracks to gaze at me expectantly. “So?”
“Honestly?” My eyes meet hers as I turn to face her. “It was because I couldn’t stand the thought of you two together. I didn’t want him making out with you. I guess I was just plain jealous.”
Some strange emotion flickers across her face, but once again the interpretation eludes me. “Jealous? Why would you even care? I thought you hated me.”
“I did. I also liked you. Imagine how confusing that was for me.”
Wetting her lips, she looks down at her feet as a frothy wave washes over them. “Well. It was still a fucked-up thing to do.”
“I know. My brilliant reasoning was that maybe I could persuade him to change his mind about taking you to that after-party.”
“Colton’s party? Oh, we still went.”
Now I’m the one frowning. “You did?”
“We did. Then we got in this huge wicked fight because he was basically ignoring me so he could flirt with old what’s-her-name…you know, Miss Boobies. What was that girl’s name? Oh, yeah. Amber Owens. I wouldn’t doubt she really did have herpes. Anyway, I made him take me home and that’s when he told me what you said.”
Wow. Jake was even more of a dumb shit than I was back then, and that’s saying a lot. “I’m sorry, Mel.” Trailing my index finger lightly up her neck, I lift her chin so she’s looking at me once again. “I have no excuse to give, other than to plead ignorance. In my defense, I was just a stupid kid. But I am so very sorry. Will you forgive me?”
“I might consider it. I don’t know.” Her sexy mouth purses into a contemplative pout as her eyes wander off into the distance behind me. “Hmm. Tell you what. If you’ll do something for me, then we’ll be square. Do we have a deal?”
“You got it. Anything.”
“Really? And you’ll do it? Whatever I say?”
“Just name it,” I promise. How bad can it be?
Raising herself up on her tiptoes, she whispers her request into my ear.
My jaw nearly hits the sand when I hear what it is she wants. Dumbfounded, I stand there staring at her in horrified disbelief, hoping she’ll tell me she was just kidding. Is she crazy? This wasn’t at all what I had in mind. Not by a long shot.
“You can’t be serious.” Oh dear God, I hope she’s not serious!
“Oh, I’m dead serious.” Her lashes flutter at me innocently.
Fuck!
“Him. That guy right there. In the blue shirt.” She jerks her head in the general direction of some man who’s walking his dog along the beach. As he makes his way closer, I can see he’s no lightweight. On the contrary, this dude probably outweighs me by a good fifty pounds. What is he, a UFC fighter or something? Looks like I can kiss my sweet ass goodbye. Damn, that girl can hold a grudge – does she really want to see me die tonight?
But I am a man of my word, so I square my shoulders and reluctantly approach him. My honor is at stake. Am I really going to do this? Yes, I am. Goodbye, teeth. It was nice knowing you.
“Uh. Hey. Excuse me.”
I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this.
Slowing his pace, UFC guy looks my way apprehensively.
“You, uh…” WHY am I doing this? “…you have the prettiest mouth I’ve ever seen. Do you know how to use it?”
He stares back at me incredulously, obviously trying to process what I’ve just said. I’m sure he can’t believe it any more than I can. One meaty hand tightens around the Labrador’s leash as his thick brow furrows into a burgeoning scowl.
That’s it. I’m a goner. I wonder how much facial reconstruction will cost?
A few yards behind me, I hear an explosion of giggles, and the man’s bewildered eyes look past me to light up with sudden recognition. “Melanie? Girl, what in the world are you up to?”
Wait. She knows this guy?
I turn my head to glare at her, but she doesn’t notice. The little devil is clutching her ribs and has dropped to her knees, she’s laughing so hard.
~ Chapter Thirteen ~
It's been at least half an hour and I still can't wipe the silly grin off my face.
Every time I think of Macho Stud Becker floundering to explain his impromptu proposition, I lapse into another uncontrollable fit of giggles. Poor Shane. Maybe it was a juvenile thing to do, but when I saw Mike from the Gas ’N Go heading in our direction, I just couldn't resist. The timing couldn't have been better. Honestly, I’m surprised he had the balls to do it.
Drumming his fingers against the leather steering wheel, Shane cuts his eyes sideways at me. He looks stern but I can tell he's trying not to laugh. “You suck.”
“What?” Trying to stifle my own laughter, I widen my eyes innocently. “It was funny.”
“That was not funny.”
“Mike thought it was funny. And look at it like this – you gave him a really nice compliment. I bet no one’s ever told him he had a pretty mouth before.”
Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head at my distorted logic. “You have one warped sense of humor, you know that?”
“Hey, it could’ve been worse. After what you did, I think I let you off easy.”
“That was your idea of easy?”
“Absolutely. Trust me, I thought about having you do something a whole lot worse than that.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Something really bad. So messed up, you don’t even wanna know.” I’m talking out of my ass, of course, but he doesn’t have to know that.
“Hm. Now you’ve got me intrigued. Tell me.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on. Tell me. What would
you have me do?”
“You’ll just have to use your imagination.”
His lips arc into a furtive smile. “If you insist,” he murmurs softly.
The sexual innuendo is pretty clear, even to someone who isn’t very adept at reading signals, and it’s made that much clearer when his right hand leaves the steering wheel to rest on my thigh. My clit literally jumps from his unexpected touch. It jumps. Holy hell, is that normal? He’s like a trigger for my adrenaline. It’s mindboggling the effect this man has on my libido.
I place my hand on top of his and steal a glance at him. He’s concentrating on the road, or at least he appears to be. I can’t help but compare this Shane to the one from last night. The image of dark, stormy eyes clouding over with lust, every muscle in his body tightening as he thrusts in and out of me…God, just thinking about it makes me want to climb him like the Matterhorn.
I want more than anything to see that version of him again.
To feel it again.
But since then I’ve had time to think clearly, and the once-burned, twice-shy introvert in me has reappeared to voice her concerns.
Do you really think this is wise? Have you forgotten Luka and the hell you went through with him? Tap the brakes, girl. If you feel you simply must do this, then fine, but at least take a moment to review past lessons. It’s imperative that you not allow this man to get the wrong idea. After all, how well do you really know him? A lot can change in ten years. What you need to do is make your position clear from the start. He has to know up front where you stand.
It’s hard to listen to her, though, because the anticipation of being alone with Shane is twisting my insides into pretzels. Last night notwithstanding, it’s been at least a year since I shared a bed with anyone other than Duracell. And believe me – there is NO comparison.
“Home sweet home.” Shane’s hand leaves my thigh as he pulls into the driveway and inches the black Tahoe into the garage. Technically it may be a two-car garage, but it’s still a tight squeeze with both vehicles in here. I have to be careful when I open the door not to ding my Corolla.
His cell phone starts chirping some indecipherable tune as he’s opening the door, so I head for my bedroom and leave him to take the call in privacy. I want to freshen up a bit, anyway. Shutting myself in the bathroom, I brush my teeth and check my reflection in the mirror before rubbing a dab of scented lotion into my arms.
I can’t believe it when I open the door and there he is, stretched out on the bed with his legs crossed and hands folded behind his head. The slow grin spreading across his face is both incorrigible and heartbreakingly sexy. At least he’s still fully dressed, so it could be he’s just goofing off.
“Has the concept of knocking before coming in ever entered your thick head?”
He reaches up to rap the wall twice with his knuckles. “Knock, knock.”
“I said, before coming inside.” Too late, I realize I’ve just set myself up.
The devilish grin widens. “I’d be more than happy to knock you up, precious, but I’m afraid I’ll have to come inside first. That’s just the way it works.”
“Very funny,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stands and offers a hand. “Come here.”
“Why?” I ask suspiciously.
“I want to show you something.” Impatiently grabbing my hand, he pulls me over to the light switch and turns off the overhead light so we’re in nearly total darkness.
“What are you up to?”
Dropping my hand, he slips an arm around my waist and guides me over to the patio doors. “Look.”
I blink a few times to adjust to the darkness. And then I see them. Outside, hundreds of glittery lights, twinkling on and off like tiny yellow stars against the black background of night. The synchronous flashing is mesmerizing. Magic in its simplest form.
“Fireflies,” I breathe, gazing at the light show in fascination. “That’s what that is, right?”
“That’s what they are.”
“I’ve never seen so many of them in one place. They’re beautiful.”
“Yeah. They seem to love it here, for some reason. You usually don’t see them this late in the year.”
We stand there together in the dark, watching them in mutual silence. I am very aware of the fact that his arm is still around me. He’s so close I can smell the fresh scent of his cologne, the same subtle but intoxicating essence from last night. Kind of like bergamot with a light undertone of sandalwood or cloves or something. Whatever it is, it makes me want to bury my face in him and inhale. Yum.
This whole scenario sort of reminds me of that night at junior prom. Being in his arms, thinking to myself that he smelled really nice. Wondering what the hell we were doing dancing together when all we ever did was trade jabs and insults.
Wondering why being so close to him affected me in such an unsettling way.
I never told anyone, but after I got home that night I pulled out my yearbook and sat there on my bed studying his picture for the longest time. I was so mad at him for what he said to Jake, but I think I was even more mad at myself because I couldn’t stop thinking about that dance. The way he whispered my name. It did something to me I couldn’t explain. And it was probably my adolescent imagination, but for a second there I was sure he was about to kiss me.
But no, he waited until graduation. That little surprise was dropped on me from out of nowhere, for no reason. I never really knew why he did it. It was unexpected and impetuous and exciting, and maybe I should have been offended that he would do something like that after behaving like such a jerk all those years.
But I wasn’t.
There was a huge party afterwards and I kept looking around for him, but he never showed. Guess he had better things to do. And then we both went off in separate directions, to different schools, and I had neither the opportunity nor any real reason to ever see him again.
Sighing wistfully, I lean my head against his shoulder. “Do you stay here a lot?”
“No. I don’t get down this way as often as I’d like. I was only here twice over the summer this year. Leah and my mom spend more time here than I do.”
“Leah said one of your friends trashed the place,” I suddenly recall.
“She told you that?” I feel his shoulders shake as he laughs. “I wouldn’t exactly call the guy a friend. He was my intern. When he found out I had a place near the beach, he begged me to let him and some of his friends stay here over spring break. Probably a bad move on my part, I admit, but if you know my sister you know she has a habit of blowing things out of proportion. They did kinda leave the place in a mess, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as she makes out. Nothing was damaged or anything. She just likes to overreact.”
Sounds like Leah, all right. In the short time that I’ve gotten to know her, I’ve noticed she has a tendency to exaggerate. Which probably explains how I ended up renting a house that wasn’t technically even hers. Next time I see her, I think I will be hard put not to strangle her.
“Are you sure it’s okay with you that I’m staying here?” I feel guilty, even though it wasn’t really my fault. But he did say he doesn’t come here that often, so he shouldn't have a reason to be put out by my presence here. At least, that’s the way I see it.
“That...” Lifting my chin with his fingers, he glides his thumb across my lips. “...is a silly question.”
I know he's going to kiss me even before he does, but knowing doesn't lessen the electrifying effect. Funny, I've read and even written about women being rendered weak in the knees by a single kiss, but I always thought that was just flowery prose to inspire the illusion of maudlin romance. A wishful fantasy. Bullshit, to be more precise.
Nobody's ever made me feel weak in the knees before.
Until now.
His tongue is doing things to my mouth that I swear I can feel all the way down to the most intimate parts of my body. Teasing and tasting, devouring me. I'm in
stantly wet with a surge of primal need as I practically melt into him. His arms tighten around me, and I’m grateful for the support because I think my muscles have all turned to slush.
I want him.
I want to run my hands over every inch of his body, stroke it, squeeze it, lick it. I want to feel him submerged deep inside me. I want him to fill that pulsing ache that he is responsible for igniting. I want him to throw me on the bed and bang me against the headboard until I have a concussion.
That’s right. I want Shane the Pain to fuck me into a coma. I’m not even trying to deny it.
Grabbing my backside with both hands, he pushes his erection against me and I moan from someplace deep in my throat, aroused by the validation that he wants the same thing.
“Well, Felony…” He flicks out his tongue to taste my lips one last time before whispering, “…are you ready to make up for lost time?”
Lost time.
Warning bells resonate in my head, tolling ominous reminders of the past. Of my college days. Of deadly mistakes made by a young and naïve girl. I can’t be that oblivious, not again. Not with someone I haven’t seen in years. I knew little about him back then, and even less now. And I can’t help but wonder – why is he here? Why did he come, and why did he stay? Is it really because of the storm?
“Wait.” Pressing my hands against his chest, I plead breathlessly, “Wait a second. Hang on. This is…we need to get something straight first.”
“We do, hm?” He blazes a trail of kisses across my cheek before taking my earlobe between his teeth and nipping it gently. “All right. What is it we need to iron out and how fast can we do it?”
“I just…I need to make sure you realize, this is just sex. Nothing more.” The words sound cold and harsh, even to my own ears. But I can’t retract them. It had to be said. “I mean, I don’t want you to feel like I led you on in any way. You know? I’m not interested in any kind of…uh, anything more right now. So I just wanted to make sure you knew in advance. Before this goes any further. Once you leave here, we go our separate ways and that’s the end of it. Okay?”