by Alice Ward
I turned in his arms. His face was in shadows and all I could see was the glow of his teeth when he smiled. At this moment, he could be anyone. He could be Nash. He could be Grant. He could be a complete stranger.
Until he spoke.
That was when there was no doubt of who he was.
The son of Luna Kline Levington. I still couldn’t believe it.
I’d been wondering about the baseball cap and why he’d been wearing it so low. But guys did that, so it wasn’t too strange. Then, when someone recognized him on the way to our gate, it made much more sense.
It also made sense as to why we went through the back of the theater to see Wicked. I was going out with someone famous. Well, famous if you were interested in country music, and I never had been.
We’d talked more about it on the plane, and I understood why he hadn’t confessed his secret before. He wanted me to like him for him.
He had rolled his eyes. “You won’t believe the number of women who pretend they don’t know me, but who just so happen to have a demo tape in their purse.”
I’d sung him a few lines of the “Star Spangled Banner” and he’d winced. “I don’t think you need to worry about getting a whatever you called it tape from me.”
The flight had been fun. We’d talked, snuggled, touched each other under the blanket he’d bought, and embarrassingly enough, I’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. I’d bustled through my day and had been exhausted. The two-hour nap had been exactly what I needed. I wasn’t sleepy now.
It was strange. As comfortable as I was with Grant, I was equally comfortable with Nash. I did think I had a deeper connection to Grant, but that might just be because I’d been around him more, seen his scars. After all, I’d seen him several times before our trip to Philadelphia. I’d only been with Nash twice now. With one being that short meeting at the park.
“Ready for bed?”
I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek to Nash’s chest, breathing in the clean scent of him. He even smelled country, like fresh grass and sunshine. It fit the light that seemed to shine around him. It fit him.
I’d never spent a full night with a man before. Dorm room sex had always been cut off by the out by midnight rule, which hadn’t been a big loss.
I would have liked to spend the night with Grant, but his business trip made that impossible, even though he hadn’t failed to send me a goodnight text each night. Well, except for tonight.
Because he knew I would be with somebody else.
“Yes, I’m ready.”
Linking our fingers together, Nash pulled me to the villa he’d rented for the weekend, and it was another thing I couldn’t wait to see in the light of day. At night, it sparkled, inside and out. Cool marble reflecting the light.
We were barely inside when Nash pulled me into his arms, his hands moving up to my hair so he could turn my head to deepen the kiss.
Our tongues warred then gentled, the kiss growing more demanding before becoming a slow exploration again. We smiled. We bit and clawed. And we hadn’t even made it to the bedroom yet.
Nash backed me down a short hallway and to the bed we’d share, his mouth on mine the entire way.
He flipped on the bedside light. “I want to see you.”
I licked my lips. “I want to see you too.”
His mouth was hard and demanding on mine. Hungry. Almost desperate, and I let him take his fill. When his teeth scraped across my bottom lip, I groaned, silently begging him to do it again. He did, and I was lost.
My hands clutched his shoulders, his neck and then his hair, my fingers threading through the silky strands. My fingernails scratched his scalp, and he moaned. The sound was desperate, needy.
It sounded just like my own.
My cardigan came off first, pooling at my feet. My top was next, my bra following closely. Then Nash sank onto the side of the bed and took my nipple into his mouth.
As he sucked and bit at one breast and then the other, his hands left burning trails on every inch of my skin he touched.
“You’re so sweet,” he said when my shorts hit the floor, then my panties, leaving me only in my shoes. “So sensitive.”
Pain and pleasure danced over my nerves, leaving me overwhelmed with all the sensations I was feeling. He suckled one breast gently while kneading the other in an iron fist. His other hand lightly traced the skin on my back, ass, thighs, before journeying north and slipping inside me.
“I love how wet you get for me,” he said against my belly as his fingers twisted inside me.
I spread my legs more, giving him better access. But he didn’t take it. Without warning, he tossed me onto the bed and stood up to strip out of his clothes after he dug through a bag and tossed a box of condoms next to me.
When he began stripping, I watched him closely, and he gave a little hip twirl, bobbing his eyebrows when I clapped, appreciating the Magic Nash show. I became serious again as each inch of his delicious skin was revealed. I was completely silent when his cock popped free of his boxer briefs.
He wasn’t as long as Grant, but he was thicker, and his cock was like a log pointing straight at me.
A single bead of pre-cum rested at its end, and just the sight of it made my mouth water. Scrambling to the edge of the bed, I took him in my hands, amazed at how my fist wouldn’t fit around him. Entranced at the way it pulsed and jumped in my fingers.
Another drop of pre-cum joined the first, and I tentatively licked him, realizing that I enjoyed his taste. Stroking him down to the base, I changed course and another drop appeared. I greedily licked it off too.
Stretching my mouth wide, I took the head into my mouth and tried to take him farther. His hand came down into my hair, and he began to rock his hips. Not much, just enough to allow me to swallow more of him.
“Dammit. You’re going to make me come with just this. You’ve got to stop.” Even though I protested, he pulled away, leaving my mouth with an erotic sounding pop.
With a hand on my forehead, he pushed me until I was on my back before climbing up my body. He was hot, almost uncomfortably so as I took his weight. But I didn’t care. All I cared about was having his mouth on mine.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard that we’ll both be raw by Sunday evening.” His teeth nipped my jaw and the line of my neck, sucking on the skin as he moved back up to take the lobe of my ear into his mouth. “I’ve already got to watch you come on my tongue. Now, I get to watch you come on my cock. I’m a lucky, lucky man.”
Before I could think of anything to say, his mouth was on mine again. He turned us until I was lying on top of him. His hands moved to my ass, pressing down, grinding me into him, my clit sliding over his length.
He yanked me up his body until his mouth was on my breast, giving one then the other attention until they ached with some unmet need. Then he pulled me up even more, higher on his chest, not stopping until I was sitting on his face.
Falling forward, I clung to the headboard, looking down through the veil of my hair to watch him eat me. His hands gripped my hips, controlling the movements and pressure as teeth and tongue explored and tasted.
Even if I’d been threatened with death, I wouldn’t have been able to describe everything I was feeling. When Nash opened his bright blue eyes and watched me watch him, I’d never experienced anything so erotic and naughty in my life. He reached up, palms capturing my breasts as his tongue worked me toward an edge that might possibly destroy me. And if it did, I didn’t care.
My need had become a living thing, so powerful it was frightening.
My body began to tighten, and I was going to come like this. Then his tongue was gone. He was gone. I cried out at the loss, but he returned, his chest to my back.
The hiss of a condom wrapper had barely registered before he was pulling my hips toward him. “Don’t let go of the headboard. Understand?”
My yes was weak, but it was there, and I knew he’d heard when he rammed inside me, forcing a scream from my throat.
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br /> There was no playful Nash now. This Nash had a purpose, and he was intent on achieving it.
My head fell against my arms as I held on to the bed for dear life.
I was at his total mercy and simply surrendered to everything he was doing. Everything I was feeling. So good. Everything was so incredibly good.
Drops of sweat rolled down my spine, a mixture of mine and his, I knew. He wrapped an arm around my chest and pulled me backwards until I could no longer touch the headboard. The new position changed the angle of entry, and I keened as the head of his cock rubbed across my G-spot, assaulting me with an entirely new set of sensations.
“Fuck, Journey, I’m going to come.”
I was too.
And when he reached around my body and pressed his fingers to my clit, I did. And it was a terribly wonderful fall from the highest of cliffs as he continued to pound into me from behind.
Nash growled, his movements frantic now, until his fingers dug into my shoulder, and he stilled except for small pulses of his hips.
I collapsed, and he fell onto my back. Our breathing was harsh, our bodies sweaty, but we laughed as he turned over and pulled me close to his side, tossing the well-used condom to the floor.
“That was fuckin’ incredible.”
I smiled and kissed his chest. “Yes. It was.”
Hooking a finger under my chin, he lifted my face until he was able to kiss me again. That was how we fell asleep.
The way I woke was with sunshine streaming into the room.
I blinked against the light, forgetting where I was, until I sat up in the bed and looked around. Through the sheer curtains of the windows, I could see the ocean just past it.
Nash was sprawled on the bed, looking like the most beautiful starfish in the world, only the sheets covering his upper thighs and hips.
Carefully, I crept from the bed and found my cardigan, slipping it on. Being as quiet as I could manage, I used the bathroom, replaced the cardigan with the robe I found in there, and stepped out onto the deck.
And just stared at the most beautiful view I’d ever seen.
Turquoise water so blue it rivaled the color of Jasmine’s duvet swept up onto blindingly white sand, lush foliage and palm trees dotting the landscape.
I wished that I had Jasmine’s skill with the paint brush, so I could take what I saw and transfer it into a memory lovingly crafted. I’d have to take pictures later. Many, many pictures. They would go in the “remember when I was wild and crazy” file. So far, that file was empty, but it was quickly filling up.
Arms surrounded me, warm lips nuzzling my neck. “Mornin’.”
I leaned against him. “Mornin’.”
“We missed the sunrise.”
I sighed. “I know. We have one more day to catch it.”
He slapped my bottom. “Why don’t you go put on that itty-bitty bikini I’m hopin’ you brought with you and I’ll order breakfast. We can go snorklin’ after that if you want.”
I turned into his arms, lifted my hand to the scruff on his face. It was prickly and tickled my palm. It wasn’t soft like…
Closing my mind to that thought, I squeezed Nash. “That sounds good. I’m starving. And I’ve never been snorkeling.” I looked out at the water, searching for fins. “Are there sharks?”
He laughed. “Darlin’, it’s the ocean so there’s bound to be one or two, but the really big, bad ones like colder water. I think your fine ass is safe.”
I looked out at the water again and excitement began to build. “I think that snorkeling sounds really fun.”
He slapped my bottom again. “Then go get ready and I’ll get breakfast on its way. Anything you don’t like besides olives and anchovies?”
I wrinkled my nose. “That completes my list.” Standing on tiptoes, I pressed my lips to his. “I’m going to shower.”
“What? You don’t like my dried sweat all over you? I’m offended.”
I pressed my lips to his again. “I’m actually hoping I’ll have more of your dried sweat on me later.”
He squeezed my bottom this time, yanking me hard against him. “That can be arranged, pretty thing.”
I was still smiling as I showered and washed my hair, pulling it up into a wet bun as I slipped on my new bikini. This one was a deep coral and was the most daring I’d ever owned. But he said itty-bitty, and I aimed to please. I turned to check out my backside. All those hours of biking and doing yoga had paid off. A little too round, but high and tight, and my bikini covered a lot of it, but it was still more butt cheek than I’d ever shown.
Facing the mirror again, I looked at my breasts just hanging out beneath the triangles of the top. I squeezed them together, but when I let go, they fell flat again, like cooked eggs on my chest. At least I didn’t have to worry about popping out of my bikini top while I swam.
Breakfast was on the outside table when I emerged, a long sheer top covering the suit. I found Nash kicked back in a chair, sipping on a cup of coffee, a slice of pineapple in his other hand, staring out at the ocean.
He turned when he heard me and gave a low whistle. I grinned and began selecting some of the fresh fruit, popping a slice of pineapple into my mouth. Holy freshness. I moaned. “Did this just come off the tree?”
“Probably. You’ll never look at fruit back home the same way after today, I’m afraid. It will be flavorless imposters once you leave this island.”
I popped a chunk of mango in my mouth next, closed my eyes as its flavor exploded into my mouth.
“Darlin’…?” I opened one eye to see him staring at me, his blue eyes darkened into lust. “You’re about to make me jealous.”
I selected another piece, papaya I thought, and rubbed it over my lips. “Why’s that… darlin’?”
He growled. “Cause I’m startin’ to think you find that fruit more satisfyin’ than me.”
I grinned and sank my teeth into it, closed my eyes in bliss. “It is stiff competition.”
He snorted. “Stiff. I’ve got somethin’ stiff for you.”
And indeed he did. And he was stroking it through the thin cotton pajama pants he had pulled on.
“I didn’t know they grew eggplants on this island,” I quipped, and he threw his head back and laughed.
To my surprise, he pulled his pants down until his cock sprang free. “Here’s the evidence.”
I looked around. “Nash. Someone will see you.”
He looked left. He looked right. There wasn’t a soul to be seen. It was like we had this entire island to ourselves. “And who exactly will that be?”
I snatched another piece of mango and watched him smooth his hand up and down his shaft. His eyes were on me, watching me intently as I watched him. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but it was. Very much so.
Reaching for the table, he snatched a ring of pineapple from the plate. I laughed when he placed it on the head of his penis. “A sombrero.” I laughed harder when he made it do a little dance.
He was so much fun. I was grasping my aching stomach when he started to pull the silly thing off. “Don’t.”
Nash halted his movement, inhaling deeply as I moved between his legs after looking left and right to make sure the coast was still clear.
I licked the pineapple, then lower, all the way down to his balls. He hissed in a breath as I took one into my mouth. Traveling back up, I took a bite of the pineapple, smiling as a “yikes” look appeared on Nash’s face. The look disappeared as my tongue traveled down him again. I repeated the process until the pineapple was gone and I’d licked every drop of the juice clean.
“I think the eggplant is my favorite,” I said, kissing away a drop of pre-cum that had appeared.
When I stood up, he surprised me by standing up too. Then I was in his arms, and we were heading… straight into the pool.
But there was no swimming as he backed me into a corner. “Shit. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
And within seconds, he was, a condom packet in hand. And wit
hout a care in the world, he rolled it on as he stood beneath the bright sun.
Then he was in the water. Then in me.
New experiences.
I was proud of myself for allowing them into my life.
And made a silent commitment to allow more of them in without question.
When Nash handed me a snorkel set, I put it on and followed him into the depths of the ocean, trusting that everything would be okay.
When we watched the sun set from the beach, I leaned against him as the brilliant red orb sank from sight, painting the sky in colors I couldn’t name. When it was gone, I didn’t hesitate when Nash pulled me onto his lap and reached under my skirt to push my panties to the side.
We made love on the beach, in the pool again, in the shower, and in the bed.
I was blissed out and happy — and more than a little sore — when we boarded the plane to return home.
We reversed our path from before. When we got to Nashville, he kissed me at the New York departure gate. He had to stay there, something about a big concert tour he was busy scheduling. He didn’t wear a ballcap this time, and when some people recognized him, I was expecting it.
Then I was in the air again, looking down at the patchwork quilt far below from my first-class seat, a glass of champagne in my hand.
So much had happened in such a short amount of time, shifting the way I saw the world in such a significant way. One week ago today, I’d flown for the first time. Now, I’d taken off and landed six times.
Grant.
Nash.
The men began to blur in my mind. Both equally significant. Both equally temporary.
But I didn’t regret one moment of being with them… yet.
I frowned, hating that word. The simple syllable that tried to rain on my parade.
But there it was.
Yet.
Grant hadn’t asked me to leave… yet.
Nash hadn’t grown tired of me… yet.
A sense of foreboding caused goose bumps to raise on my arms, and I pulled my cardigan tighter around me.
I hadn’t been hurt… yet.
But I would be. I could feel it coming.
I took another sip of champagne and closed my eyes.