Hooking Up

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by Helena Hunting


  I mirror his position. I suppose outside of the city we could’ve had the same view of the stars, but it wouldn’t be anything like this, with white sand and pale blue water, an inactive volcano rising in the distance. And there wouldn’t be Lex either. I have a sudden moment of panic over what I’ve done and what this means. Is it just tonight? Will things be awkward in the morning? Will he even stay? Do I want him to? I think the answer to that is yes. I like what I know of him, beyond just his ability to make me come. I have no idea what Lex’s usual style is. Armstrong painted him as a playboy, and our introduction, along with his antics at the Halloween soirée last year, lead me to believe it was true. But I’ve been wrong before, so maybe I’m wrong now.

  Lex’s fingers skimming the tips of my own startles me. I turn my head toward him.

  “Where’d you go?” There’s softness in his eyes, worry maybe. I don’t know what it means.

  “To the moon.” I gesture to the sky. “I wonder if this stops being beautiful if you see it every day.”

  “I don’t think it stops being beautiful. I think people get used to having that beauty around them all the time, though, and sometimes they just take for granted that it will always be there.”

  Maybe that’s what happened with Armstrong; the things that attracted him to me in the first place became commonplace. Or maybe what he saw on the inside made him change his mind about what was on the outside. I think I wanted his inside to be like his outside, but it wasn’t. Is that just how life is? I really hope not. I hope that one day, someone will see me, all of me, and that I’ll be enough. I don’t want to settle but I also don’t want to end up alone and lonely.

  “Hey.” Lex grabs my hand and pulls me to him, wrapping me back up in his arms. I shiver, not from cold, but from the intensity and the sudden wave of sadness that passes through me. He tips my chin up. “Wherever you keep going in that head of yours, don’t. Okay? Just be with me, right here, in this moment. Just soak up this beauty and stay with me.”

  The sudden knock at the door prevents a response. Lex sighs and drops a quick kiss on my lips. “Be right back.”

  He pulls himself out of the water, hopping up onto the deck and grabbing a towel on the way to the door. I don’t like the idea of being in the water alone in the dark, but I can’t very well follow after him otherwise I’ll be flashing the concierge, and with Lex being who he is, that’s definitely not a good idea, so I float over to the ladder and wait for him to close the door before I climb out, careful not to catch my toe on the boards. I wring out my hair and grab a robe.

  Lex sets the tray on the coffee table. It’s quite the spread; I don’t even know where to start. I sit on the couch cross-legged and pop a strawberry in my mouth, groaning at the sweet explosion. I could probably inhale almost everything on this platter.

  “Sparkling wine or water?” A bottle of San Pellegrino and a sister bottle of sparkling wine accompany the food.

  “Both?” I’m not feeling the martinis I drank this evening anymore, or the wine I consumed over the course of the afternoon.

  Lex pours a glass of each for me and does the same for himself. He’s still just wearing a towel around his waist, and I’m in the robe, but neither one of us seems to mind. I certainly don’t have a problem looking at his chest.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” He pops an olive in his mouth.

  He’s so easygoing. The exact opposite of Armstrong. We would never eat on the couch, wrapped in towels or bathrobes, fresh from the ocean. He would’ve insisted on a shower, and getting changed, and eating at the table.

  “How’d you get those scars on your back?” I go for a piece of cheese next.

  “An accident when I was younger. Fucking around, being dumb. I fell and ripped my back open, needed a lot of stitches.”

  “How many stitches did you have? That must’ve hurt.”

  Lex shrugs and picks at the platter. “Dunno. It didn’t feel good, but I survived, so there’s that.”

  Survived? Jesus. “What kind of accident? What did you fall on?”

  “Some rocks. We were swimming where we shouldn’t have been.”

  “We? Who were you with?”

  He hesitates for a few seconds, fingers tapping restlessly on the arm of the couch. “Some buddies. Armstrong was there.”

  “He’s not big on swimming.” Part of the reason for the beachfront hut was his dislike of deep water. That we ended up at a beach resort at all is pretty much a miracle.

  “No. He’s not.” The finger tapping continues. “We used to spend a lot of time together as kids. We were pretty competitive with each other, sometimes not in a good way. That day we were drinking and things got a little out of hand. He jumped into the river and the current was way too fast.”

  “I can’t even imagine Armstrong willingly jumping into a river.” He gets nervous when he’s anywhere near water that’s more than waist deep.

  “He wasn’t one to back down from a challenge and the booze gave him some balls. He panicked and I went in after him. He came out with a couple of bruises and I came out with some scars.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, speaking of accidents, how’s that toe feeling? We should probably change the bandage now that you’ve been in the water.”

  Obviously he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, based on the swift change of topic. I still don’t quite understand why they hate each other so much when it seems like Lex saved Armstrong’s life.

  “We can look at it when we’re done eating. I’m salty, and I need a shower.”

  He leans in and kisses my neck, tongue sweeping across the skin. “You are salty.” He nabs a strawberry and, biting the end, drags it across my lips, sucking on the bottom one. “And sweet.”

  I get caught up in kissing him for a few minutes. After that, we make out between bites of fruit.

  When we’re full we head to the bathroom. I don’t know what to expect after the shower, but I’m hoping he’ll want to stay the night. Or what’s left of it.

  I pause when I see my glass friend sitting on the vanity. Lex is right behind me, clearly having recovered from the last round of sex based on the way he’s poking me in the back, not with his finger. His mouth is at my ear. “I’d like to see what exactly you do with that.”

  “Right now?” My voice is high, nervous.

  He chuckles. “Not right now. Later. Tomorrow maybe. Or the day after that. I’d actually like to get my hands on that tickle trunk of yours. I wasn’t kidding about being your beta tester.”

  Oh God. He’s talking like tonight is going to continue, possibly as a regular occurrence. Maybe the entire time we’re here. And I want that. I want him.

  “Come, shower, we need to manage the mess I’ve made of your hair.” I catch a horrifying glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.

  The shower inevitably leads to sex—thankfully I packed condoms—which leads to more orgasms, which exhausts me. By the time we’re done it’s almost three in the morning. I fall naked onto my bed, and roll onto my back while Lex rewraps my toe.

  “Will you stay?” My stomach dips at the tilt of his head. “The night? Will you . . .” I stop. Bite my lip. I hate how nervous I am. This is uncharted territory. It’s not simple. It’s a complicated situation that’s suddenly even more complicated because I actually want him to stay. I don’t want to be alone here. I want to be wrapped up in him, grounded, protected from all the things I’m not ready to deal with. Is it fair? I don’t know. Probably not, but I still want him anyway. Even if it’s just for this two-week span of time. I want hot sex and easy companionship. I want this chemistry even though I’m afraid of it. I want to not be an emotional mess. The silence between us drags out. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  Lex clears his throat. He’s still holding my bandaged toe. I’m still naked. He’s only in a towel. “If you want me to, I can.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “But you want me to?”

  “N
ot if you don’t want to.” I wish I was wearing something. I wish I didn’t feel so naked, and not just physically.

  There’s softness in his eyes and his voice with his reply. “Tell me what you want, Amie.”

  I like the way it sounds when he says my name like that. “I want you to stay.”

  He drops the towel, parts my legs, and climbs between them. “Now was that so difficult to say?”

  “Yes.”

  He pushes up on one arm. “Why was that hard?”

  A piece of truth slips out. “I don’t know what we’re doing.”

  He drags gentle fingers down my cheek. “Well, I guess that depends.”

  “On?”

  “On what you want.”

  “What about what you want?”

  “I’m already getting what I want.”

  “Which is?”

  He drops his hips. “You. Naked. Me, inside you.”

  “Again?”

  “Only if you want.”

  “Yes. Please.”

  * * *

  “Amie, baby, I gotta go.”

  My eyes flip open and I blink against bright sunshine. The male voice does not belong to Armstrong, and it takes me a second to remember where I am.

  It takes another second or two to process the incredible vision of man in front of me. Lexington Mills is standing beside the bed dressed in a charcoal gray suit. I can’t believe he’s not sweating. I’m naked and covered only in a sheet and I’m extremely warm.

  And it all hits me, like a huge cock in the face. I slept with Lex. Literally and figuratively.

  Four times. Four unbelievable, nerve-shattering, mind-bendingly orgasmic times. It’s no wonder I’m sore. I need an Epsom salts bath, for like six hours.

  “You doing okay there?” Lex’s expression is carefully neutral.

  “Other than needing Tylenol I think I’m good.”

  “There’s some right here for you.” He taps the nightstand.

  I stretch and then groan. “What time is it? Where’re you going?”

  Lex reaches out and caresses a bare nipple with his fingertip. “It’s eight-thirty. I have a meeting. I actually have meetings most of the day, but I’ll be back around dinner. Would you like to eat with me tonight?”

  “Sure. Yes. Okay.” I guess this means he was serious about this not being a one-night thing. Relief threads through my anxiety.

  “We can talk then.”

  “Talk?”

  “I can see your mind working, Amie. The second your eyes opened. Everything is going to be fine. Go back to sleep, but make sure you’re up by noon.”

  “Why noon?”

  “I set up some spa appointments, market research and all that. I’ll message later.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips and then he’s crossing the room.

  “Wait,” I call out. “Let me see your socks.”

  He pauses. “My socks?”

  “I want to see them.”

  He lifts the hem of his right pant leg. His socks are sky blue.

  “Are those palm trees?”

  “Fitting for the location. Anything else you need to see?”

  “Do your boxers match?”

  “You’ll find out the answer to that later.” With a wink, he turns and walks out the door.

  He’s such an interesting paradox. The intense sexuality he oozes seems to be balanced with this fun side I’m getting to know better. I like that he doesn’t take himself too seriously.

  I flop back on the pillow, my smile slipping a little. Spa appointments? Dinner? Talking?

  I have to wonder exactly how complicated we’re about to make things.

  He said everything will be fine. I want to believe him.

  I want him to be right, even though I know he isn’t.

  Thirteen: Swoon

  Amie

  At noon a tiny woman shows up at my door and escorts me to the spa. I spend the afternoon being pampered, starting with a full body soak, followed by a wrap, a massage, a facial, and ending with a blow out and a mani-pedi. My toe is bruised and the nail is destroyed. Heels won’t be an option for a while, but I can walk in flats without a limp.

  It’s five by the time I return to the bungalow. A gorgeous bouquet of flowers sits in the middle of the table. I pluck the card from the center.

  Looking forward to dinner. See you at 7:30. Check your closet.

  ~Lex

  I do exactly as the card demands. Sadly, Lex is not inside, naked, but there is a garment bag. Dragging the zipper down, I reveal a gorgeous flowy dress in a shade of blue that I’m almost positive matches my eyes. Based on the designer, it was probably expensive, and it’s also my size. I wonder how Lex managed that.

  I left my phone to charge while I was busy being pampered, so it’s full of texts and messages. I have several from Ruby, a couple from my mother, one from Armstrong’s mother, and more than I’d like from Armstrong, including a few voicemails.

  The only ones I check are Ruby’s, asking if I’m okay, and to please give her a call when I’m done with the dick in my mouth. I really do love her and her faith that I’ve managed to secure a hook-up while I’m here. But that gets me thinking about what happened last night, and what’s likely going to happen tonight, as well.

  Lex setting up a day of spa treatments, sending me flowers, buying me a dress—which is totally unnecessary but so thoughtful—and arranging a dinner date is beyond sweet, but it raises a lot of questions. I need to squelch any ideas that this can be more than just two people having sex. Getting comfortable with him isn’t a good idea. I’m worried it’s already happening, that it started when we sat next to each other on a plane for all those hours, and that I want it to continue. I shouldn’t even be considering anything beyond my time here, but I am.

  I’m amazed at how much lighter I feel emotionally today, despite everything. These simple, but thoughtful gifts and all this pampering make me feel appreciated in a way I never did with Armstrong.

  Sex and drinks is one thing, sex and food and gifts and thoughtfulness make me want to swoon, and that’s dangerous. Swooning leads to feelings, and I’m only in the beginning stages of dealing with what Armstrong has done. The annulment papers haven’t even made it into his hands. I’m aware that by seeking comfort in Lex physically, making him my escape from reality, I’m transferring my emotional state onto him. Either way, tonight we should set boundaries.

  I don’t even know if I can or should tell Ruby about this. It adds another layer of complication. I don’t reply to her messages yet, she’ll have just finished her performance for the night. She’s usually hopped up afterward, and that means she’ll want to talk and I’m not sure what I should or shouldn’t say.

  I grab a bottle of water from the bar fridge and head out to the deck so I can enjoy the fabulous view and the sunshine. The volcano rises out of the pale blue water, vibrant green against the cloudless sky. I wonder if the people who live here ever worry that one day a switch will flip and that sleepy volcano will awaken and destroy all this beauty. Sort of like Armstrong did to our relationship by putting his penis in Brittany’s mouth.

  No matter how hard I try, when I’m alone like this, I can see very clearly how I ended up in this situation. I tried to make the idea of Armstrong into something real.

  Only too soon will I be home and forced to face the mess that is now my life. At least with Lex I can play pretend, and he seems to be willing to be part of the fantasy.

  Tonight I’m going to be my best, uninhibited self. I have plans to deep throat Lex since I haven’t done that yet. I’d go straight for anal as a big double middle finger to Armstrong for being so vanilla about sex, but Lex has a lot of cock and I think I’m going to need to work my way up to the stainless-steel butt plug before I can honestly make an attempt with his man dangle. I’d be willing to give it a shot out of more than just sheer spite, though.

  Unable to relax thanks to nerves and giddiness, I grab my makeup case from the bathroom and bring it outside. Creating a
video tutorial with a volcano background is exactly the kind of distraction I need. The last time I put up a makeup tutorial was just before the Halloween soirée, which was months ago. My makeup wasn’t particularly exciting, but I’d had some fun ideas and it had been months since I’d uploaded a video. Mostly I just wanted to see if I still had any kind of audience. The video garnered over a quarter of a million views in twenty-four hours.

  I spend the next half-hour making a short “Island Makeup” tutorial. Then I spend another hour editing it down to a reasonable seven-minute video. I’ve learned that’s about the amount of time an average person is willing to spend on things like makeup prep. I’m in the middle of reviewing the video post-upload when a shadow passes behind me. I startle as warm fingertips caress my shoulder and yank the earbud free.

  I press my hand to my heart and exhale a relieved breath when I realize it’s just Lex. “You scared the crap out of me!” My entire body warms at the sight of him. I don’t ever remember having this kind of reaction to Armstrong. Sure, he was Prince Charming handsome, but Lex is just . . . dark and sexy. Charisma wrapped in a perfect package.

  He isn’t wearing a suit like he was this morning. Instead, he’s paired khakis and a white golf shirt with casual shoes, showing off the vibrant sleeve tattoo that’s usually hidden under button-downs and suit jackets. His hair is perfect, combed neatly to the side, the dark strands yielding to his whim. I’d like to yield in the same way, which is very unlike me.

  His smile holds as much humor as his eyes hold heat. “I knocked first, but you clearly didn’t hear me. What’re you doing?”

  I turn back to my iPad, the video still running. Embarrassed, I rush to turn it off, but Lex snatches it before I can.

  “It’s nothing. I was just messing around.” I make a grab for it, but he holds it out of reach.

  “It doesn’t look like nothing. What is this?” He unplugs the earphones and my voice becomes audible.

  He holds it over his head, still trying to watch it. I grab onto his shoulder and attempt to propel myself high enough to take it back. “Give it!”

  “I’m trying to listen. Is this a tutorial?”

 

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