It's bright today. Warm. With the blue skies and sunshine, it's a beautiful day. But then I'm mostly immune to the charms of beachfront living.
Lacey isn't. Her eyes get wide as she takes in the view of the beach—it's only three blocks away. She pulls sunglasses from her bag and slides them on.
"I can't believe you live here." Her steps get bouncy. "It's beautiful."
My gaze shifts to her wide smile. That thin strap of her dress is falling off her shoulder. And there's the hickey forming on her neck. "It is."
"I look like a tourist, don't I?"
"A little."
She shrugs oh well as she bounces to the traffic light. We're on the east side of Pacific Coast Highway. The street, and the parking lot beyond it, are all that separate us from the sand and the ocean.
Fuck, I can't remember the last time I actually went to the beach.
That I wanted to go to the beach.
But with joy pouring over Lacey's expression, I'm fucking desperate to be at the beach.
She sighs as our crossing light sign turns to walk.
"You want to head over after lunch?" I offer.
She claps her hands together. "Yes." She clears her throat. "I mean, sure. If you'll go swimming too."
I lead her into the crosswalk. "I don't swim."
"You shouldn't worry about shrinkage. I already saw you naked. And even if you did… you'd still be, ahem." Her cheeks flush as she bites her tongue. "Never mind."
"I liked where you were going."
"You want me to scream Mal has a massive cock?"
"I'd prefer a 'you' to the 'Mal,' but sure."
Her laugh spreads all the way to her fingers and toes. "Do you really need more attention?"
No. In sunglasses, jeans, and t-shirt, I'm another Orange County rich kid. I blend in to the scenery at the mall. I don't get stopped. At least, not often. It's nice, being a normal person. Being able to spend a fucking afternoon with a woman without an assault of empty praise.
"That's a no." She smiles, victorious. "Not that I can use it against you."
"Not many guys would complain about a beautiful woman screaming you have a massive cock."
"Probably." She steps onto the sidewalk. "Okay, definitely." She stops to take in the chrome-and-glass mall. "We're having lunch here?"
"Place has tacos and sushi."
"That's a weird combination."
"All fish."
She lets out a soft sigh. A wow sigh. "This is beautiful. God, I… I already said that I can't believe you live here, didn't I?"
"You did."
"Still…"
Her fingers intertwine with mine. She squeezes my hand as she leads me into the outdoor mall. She's slow about taking in the layout. The stores don't hold her attention. But the cacti planters and the view—she stops to marvel over every one.
With anyone else, the delay would annoy me, but with her…
Lacey does something to me.
I don't know how to handle it.
She pulls away from a cacti planter to wrap her arms around my waist. She looks up at me with a goofy smile. I've seen that smile—that's either that sex was amazing or you're my fucking everything.
She rises to her tiptoes and brushes her lips against mine.
I should pull back and remind her we're no strings attached.
That I'm not big on kissing, period.
That I only kiss as foreplay.
I don't pull back.
I slide my hands to her ass.
I hold her body against mine.
And I kiss her hard enough to cause a scene.
And I still fucking want more of her lips and her tongue and her sighs when we pull back.
Her cheeks flush as her lips spread to a smile—that same relaxed smile. "I should probably let you lead, since I don't know where we're going for lunch."
"Sounds reasonable." My hand nestles into the crook of her waist. She leans into my body, purring as I run my fingers over the curve of her hip.
Damn, she's responsive.
I push replays of our fuck on the couch from my mind for long enough to lead her to the restaurant. I motion to the Seat Yourself sign then lead us to a corner table on the balcony.
Lacey looks around with that same wonder as she takes her seat—the one facing the beach.
The sun is high in the bright sky. The deep blue ocean goes for miles in every direction.
We're under the shade of an umbrella. It offers a respite from the heat. And a modicum of privacy.
Lacey pulls off her sunglasses and folds them on the table. Her brown eyes are filled with wonder. It's the same way she was looking at me on that couch— like she'd die if she couldn't get more of this.
I fold my sunglasses on the table. We watch the waves crash into the beach until our server comes with menus and waters.
I take in her expression. "You want fish tacos."
"I do?"
I nod. "You do."
"I trust you." She turns to the waiter. "Two orders of fish tacos. And an iced tea."
"For you?" He takes our menus.
"Water."
He gives me that don't I know you from someplace look, but he doesn't say anything about it. "That will be out shortly."
Her lips curl into a smile as her eyes meet mine. "You eat carbs."
"Hard to believe?"
"No…" She holds her hands in her lap. "I can't remember the last time I took a Saturday off to do something fun."
"We're working."
"Right now?"
"Earlier."
"Even a half day." Her gaze shifts back to the ocean. "I can smell the ocean from here. Maybe it's that Riverside thing. It was always such a hassle to get to the beach. We only did it a few times a summer. It was hot at home and we couldn't afford air conditioning. We didn't have a pool in our neighborhood. I dreamed about being on the sand, feeling the breeze, running into the Pacific Ocean." She turns to me. "You're probably sick of it after twenty-seven years."
"Not exactly."
"But close?"
"I don't appreciate it anymore." But I can, through her eyes. Enthusiasm is pouring from her expression and flowing into me. "I mostly think about the hassle."
"Is there any place like that for you?"
"Like what?"
"Where you feel free. Alive."
Two places come to mind. "Onstage. And when I have a beautiful woman under me."
Her cheeks flush.
"Or tied to my bed, waiting for me."
"Oh." She presses her lips together. "I do… Is that what you want to do with me?"
Fuck yes. But I can't think about that in detail. I'll get hard. "Eventually."
"Eventually?" She tries to hold a poker face, but the disappointment in her expression is obvious.
I want to tie her up right fucking now. But there was something about our fuck—something she isn't saying. "You wanted to be fucked."
"Yeah…"
"You just left your ex. Two weeks ago, right?"
"About that."
"Over sex?"
There it is. Her eyes turn down. Her cheeks turn red. It's not embarrassment. Or desire.
It's shame.
The same as the other night.
It's written all over her face. She left her ex because of sex. And she's ashamed of that decision.
But the details aren't clear.
Did he want something she couldn't give?
No. Lacey is eager. Responsive. She purred and groaned like a woman who hasn't been touched properly in a very fucking long time.
It was something he couldn't give her.
I hold her gaze. "It was."
Her lips snap shut. "I don't want to talk about it."
"You want me to tie you up?"
She folds her arms. "What does that matter?"
"Yes or no."
"Yes."
"To spank you?"
She clears her throat. Her cheeks flush. This time, it's a mix of desire and shame. "Maybe."
"With my hand?"
Her gaze goes to the ocean. She turns away from me. But still, she whispers, "Yes."
"With a paddle?"
"I don't know."
"A riding crop?"
"I… yes. Maybe. I'm not sure. I want to try things."
"Look at me and say that."
She keeps her body turned away from mine. "I… I… Um…"
We're interrupted by the server, dropping off our food and Lacey's iced tea. She turns back to the table enough to thank him.
Her eyes refuse to meet mine. She stares at her straw. She stares at her drink. She stares at her food.
I wait until he's well out of earshot. "He hurt you."
"I hurt him."
"I want to tie you up, Lacey. I want to do so many fucking things to you. But I can't do that unless I trust you."
"But I… Fine." She stares at her food.
The silence falls between us. It's not awkward, but it is heavy. She has every right to play her cards close to the vest. She has every right to keep me out of her heart and her head.
But I want to know what happened.
I want to find the thing taking away her pleasure and destroy it.
She plays with her food. Her eyes go to me. Then to her plate.
When she tires of staring, she takes a bite of her taco. Her eyes fill with surprise. Then delight.
She chews and swallows.
She takes another bite. Another. Another.
She eats the whole damn thing, then she's licking the cream sauce running down her hands.
There's only once place my mind can go.
And she knows it.
We eat in silence for minutes.
When she looks back at me, all that shame in her expression is gone. "I… if you want to set limits on this, that's your right. But I have mine. I'm not going to talk about Adam. And I don't want your opinion on the matter."
That's a lie. She wants someone telling her it's okay. She needs that. Still, I nod.
"It's been a long time since I've been in a relationship where there was romantic potential. I like you, Mal. And that, ahem, on the couch, that was amazing. I've never had sex like that. I…" That shame creeps back into her expression. She shakes it off. "I want to continue having lots of sex with you. But this doesn't feel casual when you start prying me apart."
That's fair. I nod.
"I don't want messy. How about… I tell you if it's getting messy for me. And you tell me if it's getting messy for you. We can course-correct."
I nod. I'll tell her if this is getting messy.
But I'm not about to let her walk around with all this shame.
I don't know what happened with her ex to convince her she's wrong for wanting to be fucked.
But I'm going to find out.
And I'm going to convince her otherwise.
Most of the time, the beach holds no appeal.
It's too bright.
The air is too hot. The water is too cold.
The fucking sand gets everywhere.
It's crowded. Loud. Dirty.
But, right now, I don't feel any of that.
Right now, I'm watching Lacey toss her towel onto the ground and jump into a ready to go position.
She digs her heels into the sand.
She motions to me then to the ocean. "I'll race you."
She looks fucking amazing in that pink polka-dot bikini, her dark hair blowing behind her.
But that isn't what has my attention.
It's the joy in her expression.
All that tension from lunch is gone. She's where she belongs.
She's free.
And she's pulling me into that feeling.
I toss my t-shirt on my towel and step out of my flip-flops. The sand is rough and cold against my feet.
The soft breeze blows over my skin, waking up every nerve.
I want to race her to the ocean.
I hate swimming and I want to race her to the ocean.
She digs her heel into the sand. "Don't tell me you're chicken."
"You baiting me?"
She shrugs maybe.
I copy her posture. "On three."
"After three."
"After three." I nod.
She counts. "One, two, three." She pushes off her foot and sprints towards the beach.
I'm not sure which is more inviting—her ass bouncing in that tiny bikini bottom or the laugh falling from her lips.
I run after her.
All the way into the freezing water.
She shrieks as a wave smacks into her chest. "Fuck, that's cold."
"This is as warm as it gets."
"Still." She moves closer. Her brown eyes fix on mine. They're filled with joy. Right now, nothing can hurt her.
I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer. "Better?"
"Much better."
12
Mal
By the time we leave the beach, I'm aching to make Lacey come again. She's fucking adorable and the way she groans as I slide my hands to her cute ass is fucking tempting.
Damn, she looks good in that polka-dot bikini. I spend the walk back to the house thinking of what I want to do to her. She's still smiling, her expression the picture of satisfaction.
All that ugly shit dragging her down is gone.
After I lead her into the house, she cinches her towel around her waist. Her eyes move around the room. "You mind if I shower?"
"No." I consider inviting myself, but I need the time to think of how to get my cock, heart, and head to compromise. I'm not good at compromise and neither are any of my body parts.
Her smile is a little awkward, like she's worried about overstaying her welcome. Still, she turns and trots up the stairs.
I leave my towel on the deck outside to dry. And there's my cell on the counter.
With an email from Mom.
Hey Malcolm, I'm sorry to cancel so late, but we won't be able to Skype tomorrow. We're going into the city for some checkups and it's going to take all day. But we'll talk next week.
I can't wait to see you, Piper, and Ethan when we return.
Love you,
Mom
Fuck, we didn't even talk and she's still managing to reject me.
I'm not sure why I expect anything different. I can't fucking help it. I push the phone aside and I use the shower in the downstairs bathroom. The hot water rinses off the salt and the sand. It gets most of the thoughts weighing me down.
Lacey wants more than vanilla sex. Her eyes light up when I mention bondage or pain.
Truth be told, my bark is a hell of a lot more than my bite. The reputation that precedes me is overinflated.
I enjoy tying women up. I enjoy having them at my mercy, being the one in charge of their pleasure. There's something intoxicating about being in control. Fuck, I like it all—issuing orders, using ropes, spanking, smacking asses with riding crops—
But it's not my usual thing. It's a toy. A value-add. I enjoy pinning a woman to the wall and fucking her brains out as much as I enjoy tying her to my bed and getting her screaming my name.
I don't need control, but, with the right woman, I enjoy it.
Lacey is holding on to some baggage that's adding shame where it shouldn't be. I don't know how to handle that.
If she wants to try this, I'm more than happy to be the one to introduce her.
But I have to do it right. Slowly. Carefully.
I have to make sure she trusts me and I have to make sure I trust her.
By the time I step out of the shower, I have an idea. I get everything I need, bring it to the bedroom, and dress.
A few minutes later, she steps out of the bathroom, a towel cinched around her chest. The soft blue light of twilight falls over the contours of her face.
It highlights the fire in her dark eyes.
She presses her lips together as her gaze goes to the blindfold on the dresser. "Is that for me?"
"If you want."
She moves close enough to pick it up and examine it. She's slow about running her fingers over the satin fabric. "I've never done anything but vanilla."
"I'm not going to start with tying you to the bed and eating you out until you pass out."
Her pupils dilate. Her expression screams why not?
It's a good point. My cock is certainly on board with that idea.
I need to test her here. "Drop the towel."
"Now?"
I nod.
Slowly, she uncinches it and drops it on the floor.
She's fucking beautiful. Somewhere between slim and muscular, with slight curves, perky tits, and long, strong legs.
Her cheeks flush as I stare.
She presses her knees together.
Sinks her teeth into her bottom lip.
She looks up at me. "Mal…" Why aren't you touching me?
"Turn around."
She rubs her ass against my crotch as she does it.
I slide one arm around her waist and hold her body against mine. With my free hand, I push her wet hair to one shoulder.
I release her to pick up the blindfold. My fingers skim her temples as I pull it onto her face. I take my time running my fingertips down her neck, over her shoulders, along her chest.
She lets out a soft sigh, grinding her ass against my crotch. She's soft and eager and even with these jeans in the way, her flesh feels like heaven.
My cock begs me to bend her over the dresser and take her right here.
Fuck. It's tempting. I lean down to brush my lips against her neck.
A soft moan rolls off her lips. She arches her back to press her ass against me. When her flesh brushes my hard-on, her moan gets louder.
She wants me inside her.
More than I want it, even.
Fuck, the low, heavy sound of her groan is making a compelling argument. Blood is fleeing my brain at an alarming rate. But this is what I want—neither of us thinking.
Both of us in our bodies.
I take my time working my hands down her chest. Her groans run together as my fingertips gets closer to her nipples. She needs me working her, but she needs the anticipation more.
She arches her back as I draw a circle around her nipple, close to touching it but not giving in.
She lets out a heavy sigh as I do the same to her other breast.
As I cup her, brushing my thumbs a quarter inch from where she needs them.
"Mal," she whines. "Please."
Dangerous Fling: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 4) Page 10