by P. J. Mellor
No doubt about it, it was going to be another long night.
14
Jamie rolled over, shielding her sensitive eyes from the sunshine; its brightness made the screaming yellow walls scream louder.
Disoriented, she sat up, tugging her dress from around her waist. Her teeth were wearing little sweaters. How many beers did she drink?
Crawling to the edge of the bed, she made her way to the bathroom at the speed of turtles stampeding through peanut butter.
A long hot shower made her feel only marginally better. The low growl of her stomach reminded her she’d neglected groceries.
After pulling on baggy khaki cargo shorts and a peach tank top, she pulled her wet hair into a ponytail and headed for the door. A quick stop for root inspection at the mirror by the door confirmed she could go another week before her next touchup.
Her stomach growled again. Maybe she’d stop at the little corner tearoom by the boardwalk and have breakfast first. Everyone knew it was a bad idea to buy food when you’re hungry.
An hour later, she carried her lone bag of groceries along the beach, thoroughly enjoying the feel of the cooler damp sand between her bare toes when she dug them in with each step.
Her sandals, in the deep pockets of her shorts, bumped against her thighs with each step. She sidestepped a jellyfish corpse and shifted her sack to the other side, looking up to see how far away she was from the distinctive faded-red tiled roof of the Surfside Villas.
A breeze kicked up, blowing grains of sand against her shins. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to inhale the sea air. She could so get used to living on the beach.
As much as she enjoyed the scenery, it was time to get back to the apartment. She turned back toward the boardwalk and caught sight of a tall man standing to the left, beside a big palm tree.
Fred.
Clutching her groceries to her chest, she ran for the boardwalk. Her heart pounded its frantic beat in her ears; air wheezed in and out of her lungs in strangled gasps. Her first thought was to go back to her little apartment as fast as she could and lock the door. But then she thought again. If she ran directly to the apartment, Fred would follow and know where she lived.
The ice-cream parlor she and Devon went to was directly in front of her. She swerved to dodge a skateboarder and then shoved open the heavy glass door.
Frigid air bathed her heated cheeks. Sweat trickled between her breasts. Her heart still threatening to burst from her chest, she turned and peeked back at the boardwalk. Empty.
A scan of the immediate beach area also produced nothing. Had she imagined seeing Fred? Was the fear so ingrained that she saw bogeymen around every corner?
“Ma’am? You all right?” A teenage boy behind the counter regarded her with a critical eye. He swallowed, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement.
“Fine. Thank you. I’m fine.” She shoved some hair that had escaped from her ponytail out of her face and forced a smile. “It’s just so hot out there. Whew! I thought I was going to pass out for a minute.” She took a great gulp of water from the fountain by the door and waved as she opened the door and stepped into the sunshine. “I’m fine now. Have a great day!”
Afraid to look left or right, she put her head down and barreled her way home.
The cooler air of the hallway leading to the courtyard greeted her. She released a breath and picked up the pace.
Bracing for the final sprint across the courtyard, she took a deep breath and stepped out. And ran right into Devon’s arms.
“Oh!” She made a quick grab for her bag of groceries.
He steadied her for a moment and then stepped back, his hands still grasping her elbows. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.” He bent to look her in the eye. “Jamie? Are you okay?”
She started to tell him she was fine, but the lie would not pass her lips. Instead, her lips began trembling uncontrollably. Tears blurred her vision.
He steered her into his open apartment door, closing her in his arms as soon as he shut the door.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, but finally the tears ebbed and she sniffed, stepping back from his embrace. “I’m sorry. I got your shirt all wet.” She brushed at the dark spots decorating the shoulder and front of his light yellow T-shirt. Sniff. “I’m okay now. Really.”
“But you weren’t okay. What happened?”
“Fred.” She drew a shuddering breath.
“Your ex-boyfriend?” He took her sack of groceries and set it by the door then led her to the sofa and sat down next to her, holding her trembling hands. “What happened? Did he do something?”
“No.” She hopped up. “You know, it probably was just my overactive imagination. I’m fine now. I’ll just take my groceries and get out of your way—”
She picked up her bag and almost dropped it. The trembling set in again, and she held the plastic sack in a death grip.
He eased the sack from her fingers. “Tell you what, let’s put this in my fridge and go take a walk. If we see Fred, we’ll call the cops.” He returned from the kitchen to find her standing in the same spot, still shaking. “Jamie, sweetheart,” he crooned, pulling her into his arms. “It’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll be right there beside you.”
Nestled in his warmth, it was easy to believe him. But if they walked outside and Fred saw them, she could be putting Devon in danger, too. The hard ridge of his fly pressed against her abdomen. Being so close to her had an obvious effect on him. Maybe they should just stay in and finish what they started last night….
“C’mon, let’s go.” Devon stepped back, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the door. “When we get back, I’ll let you share my lunch. I made meatballs this morning, and there wasn’t enough room in my freezer, so you’d actually be doing me a favor.”
While he talked, she noticed the delicious aroma in his apartment. Her stomach growled its approval of the plan.
Out on the beach, the sea air ruffling their hair, fear seemed so overrated. Maybe she hadn’t seen Fred after all.
A mile in either direction failed to turn up anything unusual.
Devon observed Jamie as they walked, admiring the way the sun kissed her tanned cheeks and shoulders, adding a peachy glow to her skin. And each time his gaze dropped to the softly rippling flesh swelling above the scoop neckline, his shorts grew another size too small.
He’d love nothing more than to go back to his place and finish what they started. But the stark fear on her face had stopped that train of thought before it left the station. When they had sex, and he prayed it would be soon, he didn’t want fear to be in the bedroom with them.
To ensure that, he’d willingly walk the entire beach a hundred times over.
He had to take his mind off of making love with Jamie.
“Kiss me,” he said and wanted to kick his spontaneous self. Kissing her was just about the worst way of trying to forget about having sex with her. But the hopeful look in her eyes had him deciding it may have been one of his more brilliant ideas. Possibly even more brilliant than inventing Trent for the hero of his books.
He pulled her into his arms, enjoying the tactile pleasure of her bare arms against the more tender skin of his inner arm. Bodies aligned, her more than ample breasts gently bumped against his excited pecs. Beneath his shorts, his cock did a little happy dance.
A quick glance around confirmed they were alone. He lowered his head, barely brushing her lips with his. When she tried to get closer, to get more of a kiss, he nipped her lower lip with the tips of his teeth, immediately soothing it with his tongue.
She did a little shimmy against his eager body that should have been illegal in most states, her hands gripping his shoulders.
“You call that a kiss?” she asked against his lips.
He deepened the kiss primarily to shut her up, but soon it spiraled out of control. Tongues dueling, bodies rubbing, he staggered back with her until he felt the sun-warmed stucc
o wall outlining the boardwalk. Against the wall, beneath the shade of several palms and ornamental trees, they were hidden from most views.
Jamie ground against his erection with a single-minded determination to make them both come in their pants if they weren’t careful.
He’d pull back. He’d stop. Any minute. Damn, it felt so good to hold her and touch her. It was nigh unto impossible to think straight with her sweet little tongue sweeping the interior of his mouth while her hands squeezed his butt and her hot little pussy rubbed against his denim-sheathed cock in a carnal dance.
But he had to do it. Having sex on the beach was probably against at least three different Texas laws.
She did another sexy shimmy against him, her hard nipples all but burning holes in his shirt.
He looked down at her glistening cleavage, smelled their mutual arousal.
It just might be worth getting arrested.
15
He broke their kiss and stepped back, shoving his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “It’s probably safe to go back to the apartment now.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s have some lunch.”
After a silent walk, he ushered her into his apartment.
“I just need to take Killer out. Then I’ll get lunch going.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
“No, I don’t mind, but I should probably remind you that watching a dog take a leak, or worse, isn’t too high on the thrill scale.” He bent to clip on the leash as Killer pranced in excited anticipation. Or urgency. With dogs it was hard to tell.
After Devon grabbed some paper towels and a plastic bag, they headed back toward the beach.
“He’s really pretty good at this. He doesn’t take long to pick his spot and almost never goes on the beach.”
She smiled at his obvious pride in his pet’s bodily functions.
“You don’t have any pets, do you? I can tell by the tolerant look you get, and your eyes glaze over when I talk about Killer.”
“I had a cat once. But she’s gone now.” Thanks to Fred.
“Ever think about getting another one or something else? I know you probably think I’m weird, but I realized after adopting Killer how much company an animal can be when you live alone.”
What a guy. Not only was he sweet and kind, he was an animal lover.
“Not yet,” she finally said, “I’m not completely over losing Muffin.” She shrugged. “Besides, I move around a lot, thanks to Fred. It wouldn’t be fair to subject an animal to that.”
They watched the dog lift its leg and then began the walk back. The trip in was as silent as the trip out.
“So what’s the deal with Fred?” Devon asked once they were back in his apartment. “He must’ve done something pretty bad for you to keep running from him.”
Memories flashed through her mind. “I left before it got too bad, but I suspect Fred considers me his property, and he doesn’t like losing anything. Or sharing. After we broke up, he disappeared, and I thought that was that. Then he showed up again, begging me to take him back. When I didn’t, he got…well, unpleasant. And he did weird stuff like come in while I was gone and take things. I got a restraining order, but it didn’t stop him. I finally realized the only way to get away was to move.”
“But you still didn’t get away, not really, did you?”
Discomforted by the intensity of his stare, she walked to the window and peeked through the blinds. For a few seconds she watched the people on the beach enjoying the scenery.
“Jamie? You okay?” He was behind her now, his warm hands resting lightly on her shoulder.
It would be so easy to lean back, take the comfort Devon offered, allow him to protect her.
She stiffened her shoulders, along with her resolve. “I’m fine. I just need some space—and time—to adjust and get on with my life.” Assuming Fred would ever leave her alone long enough to do that.
“You’re safe here, you know.” He walked back into the kitchen, still talking. “The guys here are a strange bunch, but you can call on any one of them and they’d help you. They’re loyal to their fellow residents.”
“Good to know.” She followed her nose into the tiny galley kitchen. “I met Todd already.” She inhaled the warm yeasty scent of garlic bread and swallowed a moan. “He seemed like a nice guy.”
“Yeah, he is. Doesn’t seem like a stripper, does he?”
She eyed him. Was he kidding? “Um, Devon, have you ever taken a good look at Todd? I’ve never actually met a stripper, but I’d have to say he has all the qualification. He’s hot!”
He set a basket of bread on the table and walked back to retrieve the bowls of sauce and spaghetti. “Well, yeah, if you go for all the smooth skin and muscle, I guess I could see where some women might find him attractive.”
She watched him gather napkins and march out to the table again.
Definitely time to change the subject.
Once seated at the table, they dished up their lunch in silence.
“You’re hotter, you know.” Embarrassed at having blurted out her thoughts, she concentrated on spearing a meatball and popped it in her mouth.
Fork paused in midair, he looked at her for a moment and then said, “Are you nuts? I may be a straight guy, but even I know Todd is to-hell-and-gone better looking than I am.” He put the bite of spaghetti in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “Hell, if I wasn’t such a committed heterosexual, I’d probably be interested in him myself.”
“How did we get onto this subject?” She swiped her napkin at the bread crumbs she was sure circled her mouth and took a sip of water. “All I said was, in my opinion, you are much more attractive than Todd. Sure, he’s buff and handsome, in the traditional ways.” She kicked off one of her sandals and ran her toes up his calf. “But I find you so much more interesting. Really,” she said at his incredulous look, “you have so much more…substance. I’m comfortable with you in a way I could never be with a person like Todd.”
“Great.” He frowned. “So I’m comfortable. Thanks. I think I preferred hot.” He fed a cut-up meatball to Killer.
“Does Killer have a cage or something?” Realization dawned while watching him gently feed the dog: she wanted his full attention. She wanted to have sex with him, and having a doggy voyeur was not on the agenda.
“Yeah, in the storage closet. Why?”
Shoring up her confidence, she stood and reached beneath the skirt of her sundress. Never breaking eye contact, she grasped the edge of her panties and dragged them down her legs.
Praying she wouldn’t trip or wasn’t reading Devon wrong, she stepped out of the scrap of silk and walked toward him.
Stopping next to his chair, she leaned down to brush a kiss over his slack mouth. Taking his hand, she ran his palm up and down her inner thigh. “Lose the dog,” she whispered against his lips, “and this will be waiting for you when you come back.”
Practically tripping in his eagerness, Devon led Killer out of the room.
Jamie wasted no time in closing all the blinds and drawing the drapes, plunging the little living room into semidarkness.
Fingers shaking, she undid her dress, folding her prosthetic breasts safely within the skirt and setting it aside. Naked, she lay on the couch, strategically arranging the throw to conceal the difference in her assets.
She knew the moment Devon reentered the room. The air was suddenly charged. Her heart rate increased; her breathing became shallow. Against the softness of the throw, her nipples beaded to scrape the yarn.
“Are you into fantasies?” his soft voice echoed in the silent room.
Already moist places instantly became moister. Peering over the back of the sofa, it was a struggle to keep her voice from cracking. “What did you have in mind?”
In answer, he picked up a meatball and slowly walked to stand at her feet. “I had a scene in my book where the hero makes love with food. I made it up, but I’ve always wanted to try it.”
She swallowed and finally managed t
o nod her agreement. “But you have to get naked, too,” she said around the knot of excitement in her throat.
In a flash, he stood before her, magnificent in his nudity.
Her eyes greedily took inventory of everything she’d wondered about for the last few days. His baggy T-shirts hid broad shoulders, a glorious chest, lightly furred with hair tapering down across washboard abs in a delightfully decadent path to widen again around his jutting sex. Mercy! Could she take all that into her body? Doing a quick comparison with the red phallus, she realized she could.
Dropping to his knees next to the couch, he yelped and recoiled.
“What?” Her effort to sit up was met with his palm pushing her back down on the couch.
“Nothing. Just a bunch of junk for my catalog job.”
A smile curved her mouth, warming her inside with the remembered activities with the Red Hot and Ready model they’d played with on her last visit. “Maybe we can check them out?”
He returned her smile. “Later.” He leaned forward, dragging the meatball against the skin on her chest. “Much.” The meatball rolled along the upper swell of her breast while he used the other hand to tug the throw from her grasp. “Much.” He dragged it down, exposing her nipples to the cooler air. Using the meatball, he circled each nipple, grazing the sensitive tips with the rough edge of the cooked meat. “Later.” His hot breath now fanning her nipple, he swiped at the little trail of sauce with his tongue before taking her nipple deep into his mouth and sucking it in a smooth rhythm that had her hips flexing in synchronization.
After laving her nipples until they were clean and standing in stiff peaks, he continued rolling the meatball down over her stomach and around her navel. His tongue followed the trail, licking every drop from her hot skin.
Squirming and aching for more, she arched off the couch, her legs moving restlessly on the upholstery.
Seated on the sofa between her spread legs, he dragged the meatball back up her stomach, between her breasts to outline her mouth.