Harlequin E New Adult Romance Box Set Volume 1: Burning MoonGirls' Guide to Getting It TogetherRookie in Love

by Jo Watson

  And then Damien abruptly ended our fun. “Come, time to go.”

  I’d completely lost track of time, so I quickly stood up out of the water and headed back toward the beach, and then I realized…

  I was walking in front of Damien in my bikini, and stuff was probably (no, definitely) wobbling. There would be some shaking and shimmying, that I was sure of. I mentally kicked myself, it was one thing being submerged in water, but now I was standing and moving in full daylight. Crap, I suddenly became very self-conscious and took a deep breath, hoping it would suck it all in somehow. I started to walk in a rather robotic way in an attempt to minimize any unwanted movement of my subcutaneous fat cells. I put my feet down gently in case the impact would jiggle something loose, and I tensed my muscles in the hopes it would give me the appearance of sleeker legs and a perkier bum (wishful thinking). At this stage, I was concentrating so hard on defying nature, gravity and all known laws of physics that it was already too late by the time I saw the rock. And so I walked straight into it, stubbed my toe and stumbled backward.

  And then—you couldn’t have orchestrated a more clichéd-yet-perfect moment if this had been a Hollywood rom-com—I felt two strong hands catch me. I found myself pressed, hard, against Damien’s naked chest, and he was holding me in his arms. Now this was exactly the kind of situation we were supposed to be avoiding. But it had happened, it was real, and I’d never felt more turned on in my entire life.

  If I have to be completely honest, part of the reason I hadn’t wanted to have sex was because of the general dislike I harbored toward it. With Michael, all the other stuff we’d done was okay, I guess. Although a lot of the time I’d just done it for his benefit, I’d even faked it a few times over the years—well, maybe more than a few. You see, this fear and dislike of sex stems from a very traumatic childhood experience. It was terrible. Awful. It was a moment that scarred me, and has altered my perception of sex and sexuality forever.

  When I was about eight, I went on a camping trip with my mom and her new boyfriend. We were all staying in a caravan together, now what possessed them—what made them think that they wouldn’t wake me up, and, in fact, wake the entire camping site with their disgusting noises—was beyond me. I suppose it had something to do with the weed and tequila they’d been imbibing all day.

  But those two went for it.

  And when I say that, I mean, they went for it like they were being chased by the four horsemen of the apocalypse and this would be their last time ever! And it was a very educational and descriptive experience, because this guy my mom was dating—I can’t even remember his stupid name—had a running commentary going throughout the whole thing. He was very clear and specific about what he was doing, what he was about to do and what he wanted to do! Now, I’ve read Fifty Shades, and trust me, this made that book pale in comparison. Seriously. And there was no escaping it. It went on for hours and then for the duration of the vacation. So yes, you can say that my attitude and thoughts about sex are a little damaged.

  But…

  Right now, my breasts pressed up against Damien’s naked chest, the feel of his arms wrapped around me, the intense sensation of his hot hands resting on the small of my cold, wet back, and our wet bodies pressed together tightly, every inch touching, made me feel like all the blood rushing through my body had changed direction and was suddenly swirling around my nether regions. I wanted him so badly it literally hurt. I wasn’t looking at him yet, but I willed my face to tilt upward and my eyes met his. The air between us was electric. His eyes moved down to my mouth and although he wasn’t touching my lips, they were stinging…

  We’d said we weren’t going to do this. But it was the only thing that felt right in that moment, this was the only thing that made sense to me. Kissing Damien was all I wanted. And I’d never wanted anything more in my life…

  “Lilly.” His voice was a whisper.

  “Yes, Damien…”

  He was still staring at my lips, and moved one of his hands up to touch my face. His finger traced its way down my cheek, and I shivered in response, my skin rose up in goose bumps that covered my entire body. He moved his fingers down to my lips and I felt his thumb trace my bottom lip.

  Then he moved his mouth closer to mine. Our lips were now only inches apart.

  “Aren’t we just supposed to be friends?” I could feel and taste and smell his breath. And it was sweet and hot and I wanted to drink it in.

  “Please…” I whispered back to him. “Kiss me, Damien.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Woooooooo-hooooooo!

  Yeah!

  Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!

  Woooooooooo!!!

  Screams reverberated around us. The sounds bounced from one cliff to the next like a psychotic ping-pong ball until it felt like the screams were coming from above, behind, between and in front of us. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation at all, and I jumped. It was the last thing I’d expected to hear and it shattered, I mean obliterated, destroyed and vaporized our happy bubble.

  What the hellllll?

  You’ve got to be kidding, right? This had to be some kind of big, fat cruel prank. Now, in less than a few seconds, his lips were standing at least five feet from me. Damien stared toward the tunnel; the screams grew louder and the roaring engines were coming closer.

  I’d suspected it a few times in the past few days, and now I was certain of it. Something was controlling my life, turning it into a farce, a comedy of the absurd for someone else’s amusement. The boat finally burst into sight, sending white rippling waves out in every direction as it sped toward us. I could see four people on board, and judging by all the whooping and woo-hooing, they were all in party spirits. And then…hang on…suddenly Damien jumped and sprinted across the beach.

  Why? Why was he waving and shouting? And then I looked closer and my heart not only dropped, but it climbed out of my body, jumped into the lake, and sank to the bottom to sleep with the fish. Jumping—no, springing gracefully like a baby gazelle in a tiny bikini—was hipster chick. I pressed pause in my head and she stayed suspended in mid-air. I looked closely at her. She was smiling. She was springing with open arms. She was excited and she was about three sizes smaller than me. I mentally pressed play again and she went pirouetting onto the beach and into Damien’s arms, the arms that I’d just been in! My arms! Not hers.

  They hugged. It was gut-wrenching.

  He spun her around in the air. It was heartbreaking.

  They tripped and collapsed onto the sand. It was nauseating.

  Suddenly I really hoped there would be human sacrifice tonight.

  I was glaring at them so intently that I hadn’t even noticed the guy who’d gotten off the boat and started walking toward me.

  When my mother gets sent a play, before even reading it, she goes through the character descriptions. These are short, concise tit-bits that give you an exact image and understanding of the character. And if the guy walking towards me was a character in one of my mother’s plays, this is what it would say….

  Name: Jeremy “Jerry” Matthews

  Age: 29

  Height: Six foot two inches

  Weight: 90 kg of pure hard rippling muscle.

  Hair: Blonde and shiny

  Eyes: Crystal blue and dreamy

  Characteristics: Jeremy is a jock; He is wealthy, healthy and enjoys working out. In his spare time he loves cooking, spending time with orphans, rescuing stray kittens, and feeding the homeless. He’s also incredibly well endowed, and is a very giving lover.

  Flash back to three days ago: if I’d seen this guy walk through the door, I would have melted. Dissolved into a puddle and looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes, but now, I wouldn’t have noticed him if he took all his clothes off and did flick-flacks in front of me so that his willy flapped in my face—no matter how big it was.

  There was only one person in the world I wanted, and he was frolicking on the beach with Hipster Barbie.

  “Hey, I’m Jerry.” Sud
denly he was in front of me.

  “Huh? Oh…yeah, yeah…Lilly, whatever.” I sounded like a real bitch, but I didn’t care.

  When Damien and slutty-slut-slut finally emerged from their dry-humping session, Damien dragged her across to me and I had a sneaking suspicion I was not going to cope with the encounter very well.

  “Hey!” She was running toward me. “You must be Lilly.”

  I was thrown.

  She hugged me.

  Why?

  “Uh…how do you know?”

  “Damien hasn’t stopped telling me about you. I basically get a message every five minutes.”

  “Really?” I perked up a bit and looked to Damien, he was blushing and moving his toes around in the sand.

  “Yep. He’s been going on like a stuck record. Besides, you’re also pretty famous.”

  “Famous?”

  Suddenly Damien elbowed her in the ribs and shushed her.

  “What’s going on?” I asked suspiciously.

  “You haven’t seen the picture?” Strange-slutty girl asked with genuine surprise.

  “Jess,” Damien hissed under his breath at her.

  “What picture?” I demanded.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know you hadn’t seen it…” the Jess character said to me.

  Now I was worried, something was definitely going on and I didn’t like the sound of it.

  “Damien, what’s going on?”

  Damien reached for his phone, pressed a few buttons then held it up to me.

  Boiling rage rose up instantly. “You took a photo of me on the plane in my pajamas, with my hair like that and you sent it to her?”

  Damien jumped in quickly to correct me. “No! I would never. But someone did, and it’s kind of gone viral.”

  My eyes widened in shock. “What do you mean, viral?”

  Damien and Jess exchanged another look—it was one of those loaded looks that not only contained subtext, but a whole thousand-page novel and then some.

  “Guys…” I just knew something bad was going on.

  “Well, you know how there was that picture of Angelina Jolie’s leg and everyone was downloading it and sharing it and then photoshopping it and putting it on statues like the Venus de Milo and stuff?”

  “Yes…” I said tentatively.

  “Well it’s kind of like that,” Damien said as gently as possible.

  “I don’t understand. My leg is on the Venus de Milo?”

  “No, not your leg.” A quick look passed between Jess and Damien.

  “You’re making no sense!” I grabbed his phone angrily and started flipping through the pictures.

  And there I was. In my “Spooning leads to Forking” pj’s with my massive bird’s nest of a hairdo, my black-stained mascara cheeks and lipstick-smudged face standing next to Shrek…and there I was with my face on the body of a clown, on various Renaissance statues and a few famous paintings, and on the body of the Joker.

  I gasped.

  I was an internet meme. I was everywhere. I was viral, like that kid that bit the other kid’s finger and the angry hamster. I know I should have been totally mortified, but I was still too focused on Damien’s plus one.

  I shrugged.

  “Oh well. What can you do?”

  “That’s the spirit!” Little Miss So-and-So smiled and hugged me again.

  Who was this chick, and why was she hugging me?

  “Lilly, this is my best friend, Jess.” Damien finally said.

  “So nice to finally meet you.” She was smiling at me again, “Oh, and this is my girlfriend, Sharon,” she said pulling another hot hipster chick toward her.

  Now, it took my brain a while to compute the information: Sharon was Jess’s girlfriend, they were a couple, so that meant that she was a lesbian. I’d never been so happy to meet someone in my entire life, I threw my arms around her and hugged her way too hard before moving to Sharon with the same enthusiasm and then declared that I was “delighted, simply delighted, ecstatic, in fact, to meet them.”

  This seemed to make Damien happy and he beamed at us.

  “Oh…” Jess piped up again. “And this is Sharon’s brother Jerry and his friend Chris.”

  The introductions were finally over, but I still hadn’t gotten my kiss. There was a lot of chatter, some laughter, some general catching up and some more hugging while Damien helped the lesbians—yeah!—get their bags out of the boat.

  I watched Damien intently, like a lioness might watch her prey before pouncing and biting off its head, but out of the corner of my eye I could see Jerry inching closer. And then he started trying to make conversation with me. So in between my adoring Damien stares, I grunted a few words here and there. There was nothing wrong with him. In fact, he seemed polite, and nice and interesting. Well, at least that’s what I would have thought a few days ago, but not now.

  “Hahahaha, that’s so true, Lilly!” Jerry suddenly burst out laughing and playfully hit me on the arm. Huh? I must have said something funny to him, but what?

  The laughter obviously caught Damien’s attention, because he turned around and glared at us with a rather strange look. In one swift movement he was off the boat and making a speedy approach. And then seconds later he was at my side, arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer and eyeing Jerry. And then it became awkward. Jerry took a man-sized step back.

  “Oh, sorry dude. I didn’t know you guys were together.”

  Automatically, without even thinking about it, I quickly replied. “Oh, no, we’re not…”

  But Damien cut me off. “Not together…yet!” He pulled me even closer, and those were the best words I’d ever heard spoken.

  Jerry looked genuinely confused. “Geez, sorry, I just assumed, ‘cause you guys look so different, and…that was stupid of me…sorry!”

  Damien smiled and held out his hand in truce. “No worries at all.”

  But Jerry was right about one thing: Damien and I did look different. We came from conflicting sides of the spectrum. I was romantic movies and he was horror films. I was clean-cut and he was very, very jagged.

  But despite that, he pulled me closer and put his mouth to my ear.

  “I want to kiss you so badly.”

  I melted.

  “So kiss me.” I’d never been so brazen before.

  “If I kiss you, I’m not going to be able to stop there. I don’t think we want an audience, do we?”

  I liquefied. My body turned to unstable, watery jelly and my legs shook. I could feel his lips touching my ear.

  “You’re so damned beautiful, Lilly.”

  I hadn’t thought beyond kissing Damien, but now I was. Suddenly I started having these thoughts…about sex. Hot, naked, sweaty, porn-star sex.

  What would it be like to sleep with him? To lose my virginity to him?

  Would it be fast and furious and—like those guys in the club said—kinky, dirty and full of spanking? Or would it be gentle? I’d saved myself for so long. Was I prepared to just give it away to some guy I’d only known for a few days?

  I looked at Damien.

  And the answer was a loud, resounding YES! (Capital letters)

  I wanted to have sex with him, fuck him, make love to him, in whatever way, shape and form I could. (OMG, I couldn’t believe I was even thinking these thoughts. What had happened to me?)

  I was desperate to.

  I needed to.

  And it felt right.

  It also didn’t feel like it was coming from an impulsive, mad place that was reeling in shock and in rebound mode, desperately seeking out a male to fill the hole. And I mean that in the purely figurative sense.

  I was floating on cloud nine, nothing could touch me. I was in a Damien daze and it was so intense I barely noticed that I’d climbed a rickety string ladder up a cliff face, or had waded through waist-high water and hiked through a dense—spidery—jungle. All I was aware of was Damien, and the intense looks that were flying between us. Every now and then he would come up behind me an
d wrap an arm around my waist. He would hold my hand, he would stroke my back and at one stage he came up behind me and whispered. “Jesus, you are so fucking sexy it’s killing me.”

  And then finally Jess announced that we’d arrived at the last hurdle. We were standing in the middle of a clearing in the jungle, and in front of us was a small crystal-clear lake. Like the others we’d seen, it was completely surrounded by high cliffs, but looking around, I saw no string ladders or steps anywhere. Jess bent down and began feeling the ground around her, until she found a rope and pulled it. A trap door of sorts opened up and I burst out laughing.

  Everyone turned and looked at me.

  “Seriously, are we on Lost? Is the island going to start spinning and going back in time, and am I going to see black smoke coming out of the jungle?” This whole thing was ridiculous: “mysterious party” was an understatement. Everyone laughed with me and agreed that it was all indeed a little like Lost, but hopefully without the unwatchable final season.

  “Okay, so the map says we can leave all our bags and electronics here and just take our essentials.”

  “Leave our phones here. Why are we doing this?”

  “Well…” Jess said, looking at her phone again. “It says, ‘Swim across the lake to the white cliff directly in front of you. Look for an arrow carved into the rock, take a deep breath and you’ll find a tunnel under the rock. Make sure it’s a deep breath, because it’s quite a long tunnel. There’s an air pocket halfway where you can take another breath, and then swim the rest of the way. See you guys soon.’”

  “Um…” I hated the idea of swimming under a giant rock. What if I ran out of air and started to panic?

  “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be fine, hon.” Jess put her arm around me and gave it a squeeze, “Besides…” she was smiling now. “You have big, strong Damien to rescue you if anything goes wrong.” She followed this sentence with a playful oohhh, which made me blush like an idiot. “Think about it, if you started to drown he could give you mouth-to-mouth, maybe even slip you some tongue.” Jess then looked at us, flicking her eyes between Damien and me. “Ahhh, that would make such a cute story to tell your kids one day. ‘I met mommy when I saved her from drowning.’”