by Jillian Neal
Instead, she floated through her house, touching the mismatched end tables in the living room, sliding her hands along the laminate counters in her kitchen, and then letting her fingertips slip along the wall of the hallway on her way to bed. Nothing felt real. It was as if she was living in some kind of dream. The chirp of her phone shook her from her abstraction. Hoping against hope that it was Brock saying he was coming back over, she raced back to her purse and located her cell phone.
Smiling, she discovered she had two texts. She read Brock’s first. It was simply a heart. Brock rarely texted her anything at all. This was so sweet. Whenever she texted him, he would call her instead of texting back. She preferred it that way, so she never complained. Hearing his voice was always better anyway, and now, they were dating, and she was going to go to bed to revel in that information.
She rolled her eyes at the next text from Jama. ‘I’m awake! Call and tell me everything!’ Hope debated, but she was weary of all of Jana’s lecturing advice. Jana didn’t know Brock at all, and Hope decided she didn’t need any more advice.
‘I’m heading to bed, but we’re going out tomorrow night. TTYL’
She turned off her phone before Jana could call and demand details.
******
With his mind caught up in an all-out whirlwind, Brock tried to determine how his entire life had just gotten turned completely upside down, and how in the hell he and Hope’s new arrangement made him so deliriously happy. Seriously, catching that botched pass behind his back was nothing compared to being Hope Hendrix’s sex coach and partner. Though he was furious with her ex, he wasn’t terribly surprised. Most assholes had no fucking clue how to pleasure a woman. They were so hellbent on blowing their wad they had no idea what they were missing out on. The churn of his gut eased slightly when he reminded himself how anxious she was for him. The cocky grin that had affixed itself to his face still hadn’t faded when he unlocked the door to his apartment and let himself inside.
Scowling, he tossed down his keys and went to locate a beer from the fridge. Nate Havens, one of Gypsy Beach’s favorite fishermen, lived in the apartment above Brock’s, and the rhythmic squeak of the mattress through the thin flooring said Nate had female company.
Setting the beer on his coffee table, Brock rubbed his hands over his face and tried to get his mind to do something useful and functional. All right, Camden, she’s sick of always having her nose stuck in a book. This is perfect. Just don’t screw anything up. Taking her hiking, camping, and skinny dipping would definitely not be a problem. In fact, he planned to check those three things off of her list the following weekend as long as the weather held.
‘I’ve never had an orgasm, and I really wish you’d take care of that for me.’ He sure as hell would take care of her in every possible way, but his nerves were shot after their evening of confessions and kissing her repeatedly. His cock twitched as he recalled her beautiful lips, kiss-swollen, and hungry for more. Yeah, he’d introduce her to anything she wanted to learn.
Fishing, a concert, out on a boat, dancing at a club, and a football game. Continuing to try to plan, he decided he’d see how she liked boating before he talked Nate into taking them out on his boat, Orion, for a fishing trip, which was bound to cost more than renting one of the small speedboats that wouldn’t require one of the Havens boys to captain it. Besides, being alone with her was all he wanted.
Brock abhorred dance clubs, but he wasn’t letting her go without him. A concert he could do. He’d just get her to pick out the tickets and he’d pay her back. A football game. He grimaced. He sure as hell would not go back to attend a game at their alma mater. A convulsive shudder of disgust worked through him.
Coach Chaney was still the football coach, and he made a huge fucking deal about Brock every time he saw him out in town. Going back for a game would delight his old coach, but Brock never wanted to set foot on the campus of Wellsley High ever again. Being called out over the loudspeaker for being in attendance would make Hope and everyone else gush over his undeserved football heroics. Those demons needed to stay buried in his old locker in the weight room. He may have wanted to satisfy his carnal cravings for Hope Hendrix, but she was the only part of Wellsley High he wanted to have anything to do with. Nope. He’d just get Matt to get them tickets to another game somewhere else, anywhere else.
With determination armored in his soul, he headed to bed. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
Five
Brock knocked on the door to Hope’s bungalow early the next morning, too anxious to sleep past six. His body was used to getting up long before the sun. He’d gone from chores on his uncle’s ranch to having a job that was infinitely better if he worked in the cooler hours of the mornings and evenings. Besides, he wanted to spend the day with her, and there were still a ton of books to be packed. Balancing the coffees he’d picked up at Mac and Molly’s, he knocked again.
The door slowly eased open to reveal Hope blinking confusedly as she rubbed her face. Her hair hung in a tangled mass on her shoulders. Her sexy little body was obscured by a delicate floral-print robe that covered a short nightshirt.
Suddenly, his mouth was drier than the Sahara. He had to swallow down a swig of coffee to speak. “Sorry. I guess I thought you’d be up.”
“Does us dating mean that you’re going to be showing up here before 7:00 a lot of mornings? Because I might be rethinking this.” She stepped back to allow him entry and gave him a mischievous grin.
“Well, if you just let me stay over, I’ll let you sleep … some.” He winked at her. “Coffee?”
She grabbed the cardboard-sleeved cup from his hand and downed a long sip. “Thank you.”
“Lots of cream, no sugar, packing today, dancing tonight, and then maybe we’ll see about some of that other exploring you were talking about. I’m full-service, darlin’.”
“You’re also full of yourself this morning.” She smirked.
“Guilty of that as well. By the way, you look good enough to eat. What’s under that?” He gestured to the nightgown ensemble covering her body.
Hope’s grin spread further. “Can I ask you something?”
“Does it have to do with what’s under that?”
“Kind of.”
“Then absolutely.”
“Okay, what do you think of thongs?”
His brow furrowed. Of all the things he thought she might ask, that hadn’t entered his consciousness. “Uh, truthfully?” He ran his right hand through his hair trying to buy a little time. He didn’t give a damn what kind of panties she wore. He planned on getting her out of every pair anyway.
“Yes, of course. When have we ever not been truthful with each other?”
Waylaid by guilt over that declaration, he vowed to be as honest as he possibly could with her. He’d made that same vow to himself a dozen times since he’d asked her to be his biology partner.
“Okay, I guess it depends on the woman. You’d be sexy as sin in a thong, but honestly, I think I’d prefer you in something sweet. You know, maybe white and lacey, or cotton candy pink that makes me want to kiss and lick everything inside like it’s candy made just for me. Something with a little peek of those curves I constantly want to grab, tempting as hell, covering up what I want, making me want it all the more.” He felt heat pool in his face and grimaced. “So, obviously I’ve given you in panties a whole lotta thought. Now, back to what’s under that little nightshirt?”
“Nothing.” Her fevered face matched his. “But I did see these cute pair of Nebraska Cornhuskers panties in a catalog. They’re the kind you just said you liked. I was thinking about ordering them.” She giggled delightedly, and a low, rumbled groan thundered from his lungs.
“You wear those for me I make no promises that I’ll ever let you out of my bed.”
“That just makes me want to order them now.”
Brock lifted the coffee cup out of her hand, set it on the coffee table, and dragged her against him. “Almost forgot I get to do this wheneve
r I want now.” He grabbed her ass with one hand and threaded his fingers through her tangled hair with the other.
The kiss was possessive with a hint of challenge. He’d gone too long without her and he needed to tempt her resolve to make certain she still wanted him.
When she parted her lips instinctively in invitation, he accepted. A half second later, his tongue was gently exploring her mouth and his hand tracked under that tempting little nightgown.
Hope’s mind spun rapidly. Oh, God, his hand was working its way under her nightshirt, and there wasn’t one single piece of fabric blocking his path. She rocked against him, and a craving moan vibrated against her lips as he grasped one cheek of her backside and squeezed. His fingers moved closer and closer to her pussy as he deepened the kiss.
When a throaty gasp finally escaped her, he allowed her breath once again moving his kisses to her neck.
“Brock, please. I’ve wanted you for so long.” She knotted the sleeves of his t-shirt in her fists, desperate for him to dip his fingers deep inside of her and bring her relief. She needed to be opened and stroked. Her entire being begged for some form of satisfaction. She felt his cock give a heated throb against her abdomen. He was so hard. She longed to touch him and explore. She always wondered if that hurt. She wanted to ask, but couldn’t formulate words.
Brock ordered himself to stop. If she hadn’t just reminded him how long she’d gone without, he would have continued letting his cock overrun his brain. He could feel the wet heat her body made so readily for him, and he hadn’t even reached his destination fully. She was so hungry. Her beautiful body was starved, but there were far too many things he needed to do first. With another few massaging grasps of her sweet little ass, he released her. “Tonight, sweetie, okay? Just let me do this right. I lost myself for a minute when you said there was nothing under that.”
An adorable pout formed on her lips. She was cute even when she was angry. He brushed another kiss on her forehead. “Trust me, darlin’, anticipation is half of the whole ballgame. You said good, long, wild sex, so that means we drag it out ‘til we’re both about to lose our minds. Now, why don’t you go get dressed so I have half a chance of thinking straight, and then we’ll go to Britt’s, my treat. After we eat, we’ll get back to work. I apparently have a hot date tonight, so I’m gonna need to shower before I pick her up.” He winked at her, hoping to earn himself at least half a grin. “But if you want to keep up the no panties thing, that’ll save me some time tonight.” He couldn’t help himself. He loved flirting with her.
She rolled her eyes and kept the pout on her lips. He managed to keep himself from kissing it off.
“You wish, cowboy.” With an audible huff, she stomped down the hall towards her bedroom. Though his feet longed to follow after her, he kept them rooted to the cheap carpeting in her house.
Tonight, sugar. I’m gonna take you to the moon tonight, but I want you aching for it. I want you so turned on you fucking beg constantly for more of me.
“You sure you want to drive all the way out to Britt’s?” Hope’s reappearance shook Brock from his erotic fantasies.
“Hmm?”
“Britt’s? You want to drive all the way out there?”
“Sure. The donuts are more than worth the drive, plus I like this spending the whole day together thing.” The statement felt odd rolling off his tongue. Truthfully, there was no one he enjoyed hanging out with more than Hope, but now that they were officially a couple—for the time being—he wondered if he should be admitting something like that out loud. With every other woman he’d bedded, he kept his emotions out of it. That was dangerous territory. Plus, he never really wanted to hang out with any of them beyond the sex portion of the deal. Hell, half of them were even annoying in bed.
“Do I look okay? I know this shirt is ancient, but it’s so comfortable.”
Trying once again to refocus, Brock fought not to grimace. First of all, she’d never asked him before if she looked okay. He always thought she was beautiful. The question itself seemed a little silly, but the biggest problem was that she’d pulled on some cute little cut off shorts and a long sleeved t-shirt he’d seen her in numerous times. The design on the shirt was full of flowers and squiggly lines that girls loved, and there were a few words written in the floral font. Those were the most difficult kinds of things to read. He had no hope of deciphering even the letters, much less of putting them together into words, so he always prayed she wouldn’t ask or comment on whatever it said.
“You look great. You always do. We’re just packing books. I’ll bring you back here if you want to change before we head to Blue Surf.” He hated any shirt with most any script. If girls wore them and he tried to read them, it took him so long to figure out what they said, it always appeared that he was staring at their tits for entirely longer than the typical millisecond glance every heterosexual male in the world denied giving them.
“I’m definitely not wearing this to Blue Surf. I’m just used to dressing up a little more for work, I guess.”
“Let’s go. I’m starved.” He took her hand and all but dragged her out the front door to his truck. He didn’t give a damn what she wore out that night. All that mattered was what happened after he got her undressed, and he needed her to stop discussing what she was wearing.
As he drove towards the Carolina Beach boardwalk, they settled in. They’d done this dozens of times, but never as a couple. Determined to enjoy every moment of this while it lasted, he grasped her left hand, laced their fingers together, and settled the back of her hand on his thigh as soon as he’d cranked his truck. The grin she sported said she was enjoying this just as much as he was. The incessant worry that when this was all over things wouldn’t flow naturally back to just being friends still badgered his mind, but his libido was doing a hell of a job of keeping it at bay.
He kept her hand in his as they walked along the boardwalk to the window at Britt’s Donuts. The salty sea breeze whipped through her hair and carried that seductive candied scent of her to his nostrils. His mouth watered, and suddenly it wasn’t the best donuts in North Carolina that his tongue longed to taste.
Hope studied the planks of the boardwalk she’d traversed her entire life. She couldn’t determine why everything felt new. She’d walked to Britt’s with Brock a hundred times, but never holding his hand, and never as the girl lucky enough to be dating him. How had that made everything around her more vibrant? She’d loved her life before, but something about this new arrangement seemed to make her more aware of the world around her. Perhaps this was the living she’d known was missing from her attempt at life.
“Can we get a dozen?” Brock requested. There was no need to specify a kind. Britt’s didn’t do cream or jelly filled. Chocolate-covered or powdered sugar coated were not offered. There was only one kind of Britt’s donuts. They were glazed, and they were the most delectable thing anyone had ever placed in their mouths.
“One’a the last dozens of the season for lovebirds. I like that.” The woman behind the counter winked at Hope, like she knew some grand secret Hope was unaware of. As far as Hope knew, all of the Gypsy blood and supposed soothsaying so prevalent at Gypsy Beach didn’t extend up the coastline to Carolina beach. Something in the woman’s knowing eyes was comforting. The whirlwind of uncertainty was threatening to do Hope in. She still wasn’t sure if she was coming or going, as her Aunt Cora was so fond of disdainfully diagnosing anyone who seemed erratic in their life. Aunt Cora was always certain of every single thing. She was most certain that anyone who did anything she wouldn’t do was bad and should be informed of such.
Putting away all thoughts of her aunt, Hope gave her a kind grin. “Are you closing up soon?”
“Gettin’ to be that time. When the season goes, so do we.”
Hope nodded her understanding. She knew all too well how difficult it was to keep a beachfront business afloat during the off season. She had to pick up a second job at the library to make ends meet in the winter.
Reminding herself that she needed to start there this week, she leaned her head against Brock’s bicep. “How are we going to eat a dozen donuts?”
“Clearly, all of the times we went out for pizza or tacos you were paying no attention to how much I eat. I’m starved. I could eat a dozen by myself, but I’m trying not to look like a complete pig here.”
The woman returned to the window and handed Brock their donuts. He handed one off to Hope and they proceeded down the boardwalk headed towards the shore.
Unable to halt her moan, Hope licked the delectable glaze from her lips and then her fingertips. “Seriously, Britt’s is one of the absolute best parts about living here.”
“Maybe.” Brock shrugged. “But I’m pretty sure that is one of the best parts about living here.” He pointed to the skyline, a beautiful mix of every shade of purple, orange, yellow, and azure blue as the sunrise painted the shoreline in its warmth.
“Wow,” she whispered, concerned if she spoke too loudly it might shatter the awe-inspiring effect. In that moment, it seemed she and Brock were all alone in the imagery that overwhelmed her.
“Yeah.” Brock grinned down at her. “Now you see why I like to get up early.”
“I think that may have more to do with your cowboy days than the sunrises, but I get it.”
“You say cowboy days like they’re over.”
The pain in his voice shook Hope’s soul. That mouth of hers had clearly tripped her up again. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” The absence he clearly felt for his life before he’d moved to North Carolina was palpable between them. The way he always talked about Nebraska made Hope wonder why he never went back even to visit. She wanted to ask, but the thought of him going and spending any length of time that far away made her heart ache. She preferred not to think about it.
“When I was a kid, every summer my Uncle Ev would get enough ranch hands to come work the cattle so that we could spend a few days camping out at Lake McConaughy. It’s this massive lake about an hour from the ranch. When I was a kid, I thought it was the ocean. I couldn’t imagine anything bigger or more beautiful than that. I used to get up early every day we were there and sneak out of the tent full of my cousins, just to watch the way the sun would rise. It came up over the water like this tiny speck of floating orange light dancing on the water, and a minute later the entire lake was under its glow. Everything in the sky was orange, and the lake was black. There was this distinct line that made sense for a minute, but I never understood how it happened so fast like that.” Suddenly, he glanced away uncomfortably. “I don’t know. Just fascinated me I guess. I’m not describing it right.”