Making Waves (The Happy Endings Resort Book 20)

by Fifi Flowers

  “You never know. You need to go with the flow. Let nature invigorate you. Deep breath in, slow exhale. Style. Comfort. It will come.” I wanted to flow into his arms.

  “Don’t think that you are getting out of foot massages just because you build comfortable high heels. My feet absolutely adore and love your hands all over them.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of not having my hands work their magic on you.”

  “Good thing we got that straight. Jack’s hands remain Mitzi’s forever servants.”

  If only his fingers would walk their way up my legs and caress the ache in between my legs. Maybe I had made a wrong move hanging up all of my clothes and making the second bedroom into my dressing room. Jack didn’t say anything but maybe I should’ve asked him before assuming that he would be okay with me rooming with him… sleeping with him in a bed much smaller than we usually shared. The thought sent chills up and down my spine and I shifted noticeably in my chair causing it to scrape the porch even. “Are you cold?” Jack asked with genuine concern in his voice.

  There was a bit of wind whipping around but it definitely wasn’t cold enough for me to say yes so I shook my head and prayed that he would not continue to ask me what was wrong. I couldn’t be honest and tell him that I craved his hands, mouth, tongue, lips… his cock… his hard body over mine to make me feel all better. Since that wasn’t possible or wasn’t going to happen, we needed to get moving, and pick an activity where we weren’t alone.

  Thankfully Jack seemed to be on the same wavelength as me and suggested we hit a happy hour rather than drinking on the porch. Perhaps he had realized that my skin was exhibiting goose bumps and my nipples were pebbled due to being so close to him. Maybe he was finally catching on that I really liked him and wanted him to be so much more than my friend and partner. And knowing he didn’t want the same things with me, I decided to suggest we find an escape from our very awkward one-on-one time.

  “Vacation. Time to party. Let’s hire a car. Look there’s a number on the brochure that came along with the tourist pamphlets and map. We can get drunk, not worry about driving, have fun, and then be carted home to pass out.”

  That sounded like a great plan so that once we were back to that little bed of ours we would be so out of it that we wouldn’t even notice each other. Not that he noticed me at all, but I wouldn’t be tempted once again—like the night before—to snuggle into him or back into him to feel his body spooning mine. I just hoped that the alcohol and partying was the answer as it could go the wrong way too and I could throw myself at him and beg him to do unthinkable things to me that could gross him totally out. I didn’t need to be the one to make waves in our business or our friendship.

  “Whatever is in your head, let it go. The car is coming for us in a few minutes so if you want to change into something else now is the time.” Damn! I truly loved him for so many reasons.

  “Be right back!” I squealed, exiting to my dressing room.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jack

  “Good call!” I told myself after getting Mitzi to agree to hit happy hour. Seeing her wiggle in her chair and her nipples harden against a thin top had my dick hard as a rock and me wanting to walk her right inside the door and attack her. The flyer from the info packet with the words in bold letters Drink Specials at High Bar was like a beacon saving me… calling to me. Thank God she was back on the porch in no time and the car was waiting for us as I was running out of willpower.

  Arriving at the local bar in the little nearby town, I talked Mitzi into sitting at the bar as opposed to a quiet table for two. She looked way too beautiful and I was way too out of my mind with crazy ideas of bending her over the table and plunging into her hard and fast. Entwining her hair in my fist with one hand while the other one held her in place. I pictured her begging me to go faster and harder and don’t stop. Oh God…

  “Oh God, I love this song.” Those weren’t the exact words that I thought would finish that thought or sentence but I had to agree I like the old classic rock that was being played too.

  Looking at Mitzi in a dress that looked just like a Breakfast at Tiffany’s dress in the front and totally nude in the back, I was so happy to be facing a bartender that looked ready to make me drunk. I was even happier when she supplied me with a shot without asking. Apparently, I looked in as much pain as I felt due to wanting what was not within reach or within reach but off limits. And then everything changed as I listened to Mitzi being herself… the girl… woman I loved as she placed her order.

  She, of course, wanted some crazy fancy drink and they didn’t have the ingredients so she asked for a glass of Pinard Vineyard wine which only sold in posh restaurants because it is an expensive boutique wine. So the answer to her request was another no and had me thinking that maybe staying back at the cabin with the pineapple Bellini would’ve been better. Then her next words had me thinking that she was only being polite about the resort and really upset.

  “See this is why we should’ve gone to Monte Carlo or Nice or Marseilles. Not to the Happy Endings Resort. I mean who names their resort after an orgasm unless it is a nudist resort? Which it isn’t because as you were driving in I looked very carefully for naked people and there were none to be found anywhere. Everyone had their clothes on or at least all of their private bits were covered.”

  Only Mitzi would order an apricot infused martini with essences of lavender knowing perfectly well that the ingredients are a specialty at a fictitious bar in Nice. Yes, the drink is real but few bars serve what she asked for and she knew it. But like the couture she was wearing, she functioned in her own world, and I loved her for it. I never wanted her to change, ever. However, other people often didn’t understand and tended to look at her with disgust or caution—thinking she was out of her ever-loving mind.

  “I can’t believe you thought that I would take you to a nudist camp.” I realized that was why she was so quiet with her face practically pushed up against the glass. “And order something not so abstract and fussy.” I nudged her and laughed.

  “I am not really fussy,” she told the bartender who introduced herself as Stixx. “I’m not a bitch either. He promised me a different vacation.”

  “I did no such thing. You misinterpreted my words and you have misrepresented yourself as a cabin-loving girl… woman.”

  “You know me. How can you say that? You saw how I was dressed.”

  “Why would that make a difference? You’d wear a fancy ball gown to a truck-pull-motocross event, if you wanted to. You always wear whatever you want regardless of where you are going.”

  “Well…”

  “You two are the cutest fucking couple,” Stixx said, wiping the counter and giving me another beer. “All the sexual tension, I can feel it all the way behind the bar.”

  Mitzi was quick to correct her with a bit of laughter. “We’re not together. He has eyes for others.” What the fuck did that mean? I hadn’t been with anyone in a while.

  “Good to know. You into threesomes, hot stuff? If so, come find me and my old man.” Apparently, I had an open invitation for sex from someone. Not the someone I wanted it from. “And I can fix you a fancy martini, maybe a lemon drop,” she told Mitzi.

  “Thanks. I think I have my hands full with this sassy fashionista,” I said with a smirk, receiving a nudge from Mitzi before she turned her attention to Stixx.

  “Ooh, yes, a lemon drop will do. Can I have a twist of lime rind to fancy it up?”

  “See what I mean.” I pointed at Mitzi who was intently watching Stixx with a martini shaker in her hand.

  “You know you shouldn’t talk like I’m not present.” Mitzi sipped immediately from the martini glass adorned with a thin wedge of lime that Stixx placed right in front of her. “Close enough.” She sucked the middle of the lime, puckered, and then removed the fruit and twisted the skin, dropping it into her drink. Then her next words made me want to shout what the fuck. “Maybe her old man is a hot dude—big plus, rather than a
girl.” Was she thinking that maybe she’d like to join in the threesome or was she meaning for me. I chose to change the subject because I instantly imagined Mitzi naked and kissing another woman in front of me and my shorts started feeling a little snug in the crotch area. Not that I wanted her with anyone else, I wanted her all to myself, but guys do think two women kissing is hot.

  “At least the music they play in here is good—a bit of country and rock.” I was surprised I thought Mitzi was more into Eurotrash Techno. That’s what she called stuff she danced to while in France doing an internship at a design house, and played it often for my listening pleasure. Sometimes it was enjoyable, other times—not so much.

  “You two should stick around, it’s going to get even better,” Stixx informed us. “Our local guy, Luke, will be playing along with a surprise performance by Raine Winters and Lonnie Shores. They’re here camping and popped in earlier and volunteered to come back. We’re always getting cool musicians popping into play, some guy named Killian played here a while back and everyone is still talking about him—he was really good.”

  “Hey… you wanted to see them in Vegas.”

  “Yes, but your friends made me rescue you after too many martoonies.” A coined name for martinis by her fashionable group of girls.

  “You were so good to me.” I didn’t need to be reminded of that night. Scooping her up from a club booth, carrying her to our room, twisting up her long hair while she vomited, and stripping both of us down to give her a shower. Sliding into bed with her and making sure she was okay all night was the worst part—especially when she wrapped her body over mine. She felt so good up against me… “You’re always so good to me,” her slightly slurred words kept me from reliving the excruciating pain.

  “Well, I’d appreciate it if you would slow your drinking pace. I’m not missing this performance even if I have to prop you up in a corner with a bucket until they finish.”

  Finally, Mitzi began to giggle—the booze was kicking in, making her happy besides affecting her speech. “Dance with me.” Yep, the alcohol was definitely zinging throughout her body and her touch was doing the same to parts of mine. I was happy to find ourselves joined by three girls dancing on the floor. The shortest one, in particular, was quite flirty, cozying up to me in a playful way and as she did it I heard her friend shout with a British accent.

  “Elle! Behave!” said the tall brunette and I had to laugh. The way she said it Bee-high-vuh had me thinking of the Nanny McPhee movie. A scene with imaginary bees and as the girls waved their arms around in the air it looked like they could be swatting bees. I loved the giggle the redheaded one made while her friend, Elle, continued to ignore the stares of her other friend. I didn’t mind, I was really enjoying myself dancing with a group of women. What guy would mind that?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mitzi

  Slipping my sunglasses on my face to keep out the glaring sun, I prepared to drive Jack to Folly Beach for a surf session. Apparently, I insisted that he let me go along to see him catch some waves. He shouldn’t have held me to my drunken words. God, I hoped I didn’t say anything else about watching him.

  “I should’ve slept in after all of that booze and dancing,” I winced, climbing up into the driver’s seat as there was no way he was driving me after he drove too fast from Charleston to the campgrounds.

  “You were quite the hip hop girl last night whooping it up with those British girls, teaching them some of your moves. They seemed to love you and fancied me quite a bit.” One also said she wanted to show him her fanny and I had to laugh when he said everyone likes a good fanny in their face (as in an ass or bum to the Brit girls). If only he knew that she wanted to show him her pussy, he might not have thought it was so great. I had learned some British slang from a few fellow fashionistas and fanny was one I remembered.

  “You should’ve dragged me away to bed sooner.” Maybe not the best words. “But you have to be happy with me because you got to see your band play and you didn’t even have to prop me up in the corner, and no puking. That should score me some points.” I was trying to cover up my use of the word bed.

  “You did beg me to take you to bed a few times.” He laughed and I cringed. Something told me that I may have said more than just sleeping but I was not going to ask any more or even speak about the night before and instead let him tell me about where we were going. The Washout. At least it wasn’t The Wipeout which I didn’t want to see Jack do.

  Folly Beach is like an attached island and the surroundings reminded me of beaches on the way up to Santa Barbara. Residential with limited parking on the main street that ran along the beach, I got lucky and nabbed a spot from early morning surfers that were done for the day. Not much beach to sit on, I walked down with Jack all suited up and looking like a black seal in his wetsuit. I had the overwhelming urge to kiss him before he headed out and was shocked when he commented, “a kiss for luck.” I laughed, shook my head, stood on my tippy toes, and lightly placed a chaste kiss to his cheek, hoping he would turn into my lips instead. Nope, didn’t happen—he just took off through the waves.

  I strolled down the shore a bit heading in the direction of the lighthouse and then turned back to find Jack sitting and waiting to catch a few waves. The sun felt good though there was a cool breeze coming off the water and I loved the smell of the ocean but I noticed that it smelt different from the Pacific Ocean. Not sure what the difference was, I couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe it was the lack of crowds and people slathered in suntan oil and that was my cue to remember that I hadn’t smoothed some on. Returning to the SUV, skin protected from UV rays, I decided to sit in the passenger seat with the door open, and watch from there—a better view when I looked up from my tablet. I had brought it along filled with screenshots of places to eat in the area since I figured I’d have no Wi-Fi at the beach.

  After surfing for a couple hours, Jack walked up the stairs and greeted me at the car, shaking his head like a wet dog with long hair, and I squealed and giggled like a silly girl. The smile that I received took my breath away.

  “Oh my God, Jack… you’re naked under that wetsuit!” I exclaimed seeing more than I had bargained for. Yet, I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away, I was bordering on being pervy.

  “You could look away.”

  “And miss the full Jack Picture Show?” What the hell was coming over me? Was the alcohol still in my system from the night before and fogging my brain? Luckily, he just laughed and did his best to cover up as he peeled the seal suit from his body. “Damn! That thing’s so tight! Pulls everything in. I’m surprised that there aren’t more neoprene dresses being sold. There must be a way around sweating profusely while wearing one. Well, at least I would imagine perspiration could be an issue. You should figure that out, Jack.” I was a rambling fool.

  “My little Mitzi pervert, I think you need me to figure out a place for you to eat and get some fuel into your brain.”

  “I read about Pier 101 right over there while you were gliding along the ocean.” I pointed in the direction of, what else, the pier. “The menu sounds good and they have a great view. It’s not the French Riviera but it’s charming and a panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean is pretty.” I took in a deep breath and then continued, “It just opened not long ago. But there is a lot of history at this beach. They used to have a bath house, I saw a postcard.” For some reason, catching a glimpse of Jack’s privates had me very nervous and excited, I swear I was almost lightheaded. I could blame it on alcohol and the sun but the truth was, our vacation had so many romantic elements to it that I wanted to experience it in a different way. I wanted the passion, the kisses, the hugs, the cuddles, and the caresses that were more than a foot massage or a gentle peck to my cheek.

  “Mitzi, are you okay? Your face just dropped… Did you just wipe a tear away?”

  Damn it! I was acting like a baby. Like a stupid woman who wanted something she could never have and I needed to pull it together because Jack was my best f
riend and business partner. I didn’t want to lose him over my stupidity. It was at that moment that I decided that I needed to get over my fantasies about him and find a real-life man who could fulfill my dreams and desires.

  “I’m fine,” I said, dusting sand that had flown in my direction—thanks to Jack dusting off—from my black with white polka dotted dress that should be making me happy with its huge daisies in the print. “You did bring other clothes in your bag?” Not that I minded him shirtless, wearing loose fitting, tan board shorts and leather flip-flop sandals from our F & M collection. Oh.Stop.That. I reprimanded myself silently.

  “Shirt right here.” I watched him pull on a pale yellow button down shirt. “We are color coordinated, what do you know.” He smiled and my heart melted a little more. “Shall we go?” I nodded and he slowly drove down the coastline to the pier a short distance away.

  Parked in the lot, Jack walked to my door, opened it, helped me down, and held my hand as we walked all the way into the restaurant. That was something new and I loved the feel of our hands connected so much that I hated it when they broke apart as we sat on the patio deck. But lunch was fun and filled with laughter while we shared a pound of peel ‘n’ eat shrimp along with crusty bread and butter. Jack talked me into drinking Pier Mules to cure the ache that was lingering in my head, “a hair of the dog that bit you.” Why does that work? I did feel better after sipping one. Of course, the addition of creamy good She-Crab Soup filled with blue crab from the Atlantic didn’t hurt either—comfort food is the best. Dessert can sometimes be even better.

  “I was thinking about their key lime pie to finish off our lunch?” I tilted my head and looked at his beautiful face with more scruff than usual, framed by his mop that I truly wanted to run my fingers through leisurely.