by Emerson Rose
“Aw, the beach is risky, dangerous, and romantic. I’ve never had sex on the beach, come on.”
I turn and take her in my arms placing her wandering hands on my chest and holding her close so she can’t move them. “Angel, the beach is scratchy, dirty, wet, and there are bugs and tiny creatures in the sand. None of that adds up to romantic. I know it all sounds great in books and on TV, but in the end, you’ll have sand up your crack, as well as other places, and you’ll always worry that your brother might have seen us.”
Her face contorts into an exaggerated adorable pout. “Mmm, that face will get you just about anything you want.” I kiss her pouting lips, and her face perks up.
“Like sex on the beach?”
I shake my head, “No, not that.”
“Fine, give me a hot dog and a giant martini then. No, make a pitcher of martinis instead. If I can’t fulfill my fantasy, I’m getting drunk.”
I chuckle and lift her up onto the island. “Just because we aren’t doing it in the dirty sand outside doesn’t mean we can’t do it everywhere else in the house. I have some activities arranged for David this week. While he’s gone, you’re getting bent over every surface of this kitchen.”
She smiles wide, “I like the sound of that.”
“I thought you might.” I turn back to the refrigerator where I take out a package of hot dogs and a Dr. Pepper. Allison locates a pitcher, and I make enough martinis for at least six people. After which we proceed to eat crap and get drunk.
I love Malibu.
Eighteen
Allison
Spiritual
The first time I saw the ocean and the sky from the king-size bed in the master suite was not as glorious as I’d imagined it would be. But it’s my fault. If I hadn’t had so many martinis last night, it would have been gorgeous.
Downstairs in the kitchen, I quietly search for a coffee pot or some source of caffeine and greasy food. The sun is exploding into the room. Everywhere you look, it’s bright and blinding and not a house for hangovers. I dig through my purse for my sunglasses and put them on.
The search is back on. If I were a coffee pot, where would I be? I lean my ass on the island and look all the way down the countertop from left to right at all the fancy appliances and still can’t find one that makes coffee.
“Looking for something?” Ridge says from the top of the stairs. I look up and find him standing there with his arms crossed over his painfully perfect pectorals wearing only a pair of black boxers. Good Lord, he is a sight for sore eyes. My eyes hurt so bad. He smiles when he sees me, and his lip twitches as if he’s holding back a laugh.
“Coffee. Please. Help.”
He drops his arms and descends the stairs smiling smugly.
“Have a little too much to drink last night, did we?”
“I don’t know if we did, but I sure as hell must have.”
“You don’t remember?” He is standing in front of me now with his hands on his narrow hips.
“I remember drinking and laughing and eating the best hot dogs I’ve ever tasted, but the rest is still foggy.”
He lifts up my sunglasses and holds them on the top of my head. “You had six martinis, four hot dogs, and at least a dozen marshmallows. It was an eye opener, where do you put it all?”
“Oh my God. Six? Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
I look down at my feet and move his hand, so my sunglasses fall back over my eyes. “No wonder I feel like total shit.”
He hooks his finger under my chin raising it up so he can see my face. “But you’re still beautiful, and it’s your vacation—no responsibilities, no work—just time to recover in bed with your sexy man, coffee, and scrambled eggs with bacon.”
“You’re right.”
“What? About the sexy part?”
“No, the recovery in bed with bacon and eggs part.” I smile and snicker. He frowns and narrows his eyes right before he throws me over his shoulder, risking me vomiting on his back mind you, and carries me upstairs.
“I could have walked,” I say when we walk through the bedroom door.
“Then I wouldn’t have been able to do this,” he says and spanks my ass hard.
“Hey! That hurt!” He flops me down on the bed and looks me straight in the eyes. “Good,” he says pulling the sheet up under my chin. I stick out my bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “What? Did I damage your ego, Mr. Sexy?”
“You are a defiant, naughty lady when you have a hangover, a fact I will not forget the next time we have drinks.”
“Party pooper.”
“Spoiled sport.”
“Fun crusher.”
He jerks his head back, “I am not a fun crusher.”
“You are. You’re not going to let me drink for the rest of our vacation, and it’s only the first day.”
“I don’t mind if you drink, just not in excess.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, I won’t drink too much next time.”
“And you don’t deny that I’m sexy?”
I smile wide and reach up to place my hands on either side of his beautiful face. “Never. You are the sexiest man I’ve ever known.” I give him a chaste kiss on the lips and push him away. “Now, before I die, please, for the love of all things holy, bring me coffee and eggs.”
He retreats to the kitchen, and I lay watching the ocean waves hit the shore from behind my sunglasses. Aside from my pounding headache and a touch of nausea, this vacation rocks. Who would have thought a few months ago I would be lying in a million dollar beach house in Malibu with a gorgeous man cooking me breakfast? Not me, that’s for sure.
“Hey, sis, wanna go swimming?” David asks appearing at the door.
“Morning.” I push up on my elbows and look at him.
He notices my sunglasses. “Or, maybe not. A headache?”
“Yeah, a little.” Lie. My head feels like a church bell with someone inside it ringing it hard.
“You drank a lot last night. I’ve never seen you drunk before. It’s pretty funny.”
I reach for a pillow and chuck it at his head. He laughs and repeats his question. “So, no swimming then?”
“Maybe after I get some coffee and food in me. Hey, could you swim in the pool for a little while and wait for us to go to the beach?”
“Aw, I wanted to hit the beach. There are some people hanging out a couple of houses away. I thought I could make some friends.”
“I worry about you in the ocean, it’s…”
“Powerful and the undertow will suck you out to sea, I know.”
“Well, it’s true.”
“Let the boy go make some friends. He won’t swim out too far, will you, David?” Ridge says entering the bedroom carrying a huge tray. The smell of coffee and eggs makes my stomach growl, but I’m not sure if it’s hunger or hangover.”
“No, I swear, I’ll stick close to shore.”
“All right then. If he drowns, it’s on you,” I say pointing at Ridge.
He sets the tray down on the bed over my lap and looks at David. “Don’t drown,” he says sternly.
“Yes, sir,” he answers and then he looks to me one more time for confirmation. I sigh and wave my hand toward the door. “Have fun, be safe, I love you,” I yell at his back running down the hall.
“Okay!” he yells back.
“Sit forward,” Ridge orders, and I do so while he stuffs two fluffy pillows behind my back. “Orange juice first.”
“What if I want coffee first?”
“I thought you preferred tea?”
“Not when I have a hangover, tea’s too weak.”
“Okay, so you like your coffee, yes?”
“Yes.”
“If your stomach protests, wouldn’t you rather lose your orange juice than your coffee?”
“I see your logic, but I don’t want to puke orange juice either.”
“How about some eggs then?”
“Okay.
” I take a bite and wait. When nothing happens, I grab the coffee and take a drink before he can tell me no again. I know my body, and it needs coffee.”
He watches me do it, raises his eyebrows, and shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
I roll my eyes, but he can’t see me do it—my sunglasses are too dark.
He rounds the bed when he is confident I won’t be vomiting and crawls in next to me. The tray has two of everything and a vase with an orchid in it.
“Where’d you get the flower?”
“Vase by the front door.”
“Way to improvise.”
“I do what I can.”
He does a lot more than that. Ridge is an above-and-beyond kind of person. He gets the job done and puts a cherry on top to make it that much better. I like that a lot. Lazy people, or those who take shortcuts to further themselves in life, piss me off. Work hard and be patient, that’s what my dad always told me, and I try to do both.
We finish eating, and I feel a million times better. Ridge removed the tray, and he’s spooning me from behind. “If I didn’t think I would look pregnant in my bikini after all that food, I’d suggest we go to the beach.”
“Someone’s feeling better. Must have been that fantastic breakfast and the TLC.”
“It was, thank you for cooking.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll make dinner tonight. And it won’t be hot dogs and marshmallows.”
“Or martinis, don’t forget the martinis.”
“Ugh, don’t mention that drink for the rest of our vacation, please.” He chuckles and moves my hair off of the back of my neck so he can kiss me there. I love being kissed there, it gives me goosebumps everywhere, and if done correctly, it turns me on. Ridge does it correctly. Every. Single. Time.
I moan, and he presses his hard length against my ass. “Are you feeling a little better or a lot better?” he asks with his lips on my ear. His breathy question sparks a fire between my legs.
“Mmm hmm, a lot.”
He kisses behind my ear and drags his tongue along the curve of my neck to my shoulder where he bites my flesh just hard enough to make me gasp. “I’m going to fuck you while your brother is gone, any objections to that, angel?”
His words cut through me like a hot knife through butter. “No. God no. I don’t object to that.”
He continues to stoke the fire between my legs when he slides his hand under my tank top. “Good, because I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.” As soon as the words leave his lips, he pulls me back and crawls on top of me in an aggressive show of power. He doesn’t need to prove to me who’s boss. He can have that honor anytime, anywhere, forever and ever, amen. He removes my sunglasses tossing them aside and lowers himself down onto his elbows over me. He watches his hand as he brushes a strand of hair off of my forehead. “You’re beautiful, angel. I want to take hours and worship your body head to toe, but not today. Today is about carnal desire, the desire I have to make you come so hard you have an out-of-body experience. I want to feel you coming apart under me. I want to know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me, do you understand?”
I nod because there are no words left in my brain to speak. I am officially a worthless puddle of lust dying to be satisfied. “Take off your shirt,” he says pushing his boxers down and tugging on my pajama bottoms. I do, and when I’m bare, he trails soft wet kisses from my ankle to my core. I’m shaking with anticipation waiting for his expert tongue to pleasure me. But he doesn’t. He hovers there so close I feel his warm breath on my skin. “How bad do you want me, angel?”
What? How bad? Really, really fucking bad. My hands go to his shoulders, and I lift my head up to look at him. “As bad as you want me,” I say with conviction.
One side of his mouth lifts in a satisfied smirk. “That’s incredibly bad.”
I spread my legs wider and do something I swore to myself I’d never do.
I beg.
“Please, please don’t tease.”
“Oh, baby, I’m not teasing, I’m warming you up.”
“I’m warm. I’m hot. Please just touch me.” I drop back onto the pillow. If he doesn’t put his mouth on me or his cock inside me soon, I’m going to cry with frustration.
Then it happens. He abandons my pulsing core and surges on top of me again kissing me fervently and nudging my legs apart even wider. I arch my back, and the slight position change is all he needs. He slams into me relieving the tension that’s been building there since he first kissed the back of my neck.
“Oh God, Ridge,” I pant spurring him on. He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to fuck me. There’s a distinct difference between the way he usually takes his time making love to me, worshiping me, and this. This is raw and out of control. It’s wild and savage and primitive—this is fucking.
He pumps in and out at a punishing rate rising onto his hands to push in deeper. I respond tipping my hips and clamping my feet together at the small of his back helping him push into me matching him thrust for thrust.
I dig my fingernails into his thighs when I feel my orgasm building. He knows I’m close, I can see it in the focused expression on his face. He watches me during sex like he’s trying to read my mind and learn every single thing that pleases me as well as the things that don’t, which aren’t many when it comes to him.
I feel my eyes rolling back into my head, and I gasp. “Ridge, God, I’m…” He quickens the pace, and that’s all it takes. I call his name and come so hard I swear I’m having the out-of-body experience he promised. I imagine my soul pulling away from my body blurring as it leaves to hover over our bodies watching as Ridge pushes into me again and again until he, too, explodes, filling me with his love.
His body stills as he pulses inside of me. Sweat drips down the side of his face, and a drop lands on my bottom lip. I slip my tongue out to lick it off and slide my hands up his damp arms to his shoulders. Coming down, I feel my soul snap back in place with my body, and I pull him down on top of me holding him tight while tears spring from my eyes and trickle down my face pooling in my ears.
He rises to take his weight off of me and sees my tears. “Angel, what is it?” His face is twisted with concern and alarm tossing guilt onto the pile of emotions I’m feeling right now.
I shake my head and brush away the dampness, sniffling.
“Are you hurt? Allison, talk to me.” He pulls me up to straddle him and holds me tight against his chest. I wrap my arms and legs around him and hold on for dear life. What I feel for this man is big and deep and powerful, and sometimes it can even be scary.
I’ve never been one to put all my eggs in one basket. I have a backup plan for everything, but there’s no backup plan for Ridge. If something were to happen to him, if he leaves me, if we don’t work, it will destroy me, and that’s terrifying.
He moves back and lifts my face to his kissing me gently. “Talk to me, angel.”
“I don’t know. Honestly, that was just, it was just… spiritual.”
A relieved smile spreads across his face, and his tense muscles relax. He pulls me back in for a cuddle kissing the side of my head over and over. “Is that all? Are you sure you’re not keeping something from me? Because I hate secrets, surprises, and deception more than anything on this earth.”
“No, it was intense and crazy. I don’t know how to explain it. I was overwhelmed with emotion. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“Hush, don’t ever apologize for your feelings.”
I smile a weak smile against his skin, and he pulls away again to kiss me. This time it’s slow and careful, tender as if I were fragile, which is how I feel—fragile.
When he’s done, he brushes his thumbs over my cheeks and looks deep into my eyes. “I love you, angel, don’t you ever forget that. For a million years and forever.”
I smile when he uses my words on me. “I won’t. I love you, too.”
“Good, keep it that way. Now, let’s shower before your brother c
omes back and starts asking questions.”
“Only if you’ll wash my back.”
He smiles a wicked smile. “I’ll wash anything you want me to, baby. Lead the way.”
And I do, and he does, and it’s perfect.
Nineteen
Ridge
Snuggle, Talk, Kiss, Or Whatever
I pretended not to understand what Allison was feeling this morning, but I did. It was difficult to put into words, impossible really, but that experience was like no other I’ve ever had. We were one in every way possible—emotionally, physically, and even spiritually. It was intense, and I think that scared her. It scared me, too.
Every time I look at her today, it’s like there’s something new between us, a deeper connection, a secret that is ours and ours alone. I am learning that you can have different kinds of love with different people. My love for Allison provokes the most incredible intense feelings. She makes me feel alive, complete, and brave again. I haven’t felt that since before Chloe’s diagnosis.
I need to tell Allison about Chloe. I want to tell her everything about me, and I want to know everything about her—the good, the bad, the painful, and the glorious. I want to share it all.
“It looks like a storm is coming in,” she says standing by the window watching the ocean’s swell grow bigger with every wave that hits the shore. I join her sliding my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder.
“It’s going to be a big one.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“What, rain?”
“Being so close to it when it storms.”
“Close to the ocean?”
“Yes.”
“You fear of the ocean, don’t you?”
She lifts her hands to cover mine. “Yes, I think I do. I don’t know why. I’ve never had a bad experience or known anyone who has. It’s just so big and vast and powerful.”
“Kind of like what we have together.”
She twists her neck trying to see me, and I turn her in my arms, so we are face to face. “What do you mean?” she asks.