“Don’t be that way about it.” She pushed the door closed when I opened it. “Really. Don’t leave angry, Pax.”
“Okay. I’m not angry.”
“You are. Listen. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone when there’s somebody you obviously want. Life’s too short. Let your guard down and let yourself be happy. Please. You deserve it.”
I gave her a peck on the cheek before leaving, but didn’t bother to reply. I needed to let my guard down? She had no idea what she was talking about.
Actually, she did know, and her words replayed in my brain as I drove back to my apartment. Christa had left for Jamaica on Saturday, according to the plans she gave me. She was probably living it up down there, dancing on the beach and drinking too much and getting hit on by island guys.
I didn’t realize my hands tightened around the wheel the way they did until I felt pain in my knuckles.
What was it with me? Why couldn’t I admit how it was with us and go after her?
Why not do it and get it over with?
Was I insane for even thinking about it? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was the more I thought about it, the better the idea sounded. I could find her—she had given me her itinerary in case I needed anything, like I would—and I could tell her how it was and leave it up to her. If she rejected me, I could go home. We’d have a few days apart to let things cool off and hopefully get back to normal once she returned.
If she didn’t reject me, we could have a lot of fun.
“What are you doing, Paxton Lewis?” I looked at myself in the mirror as I drove and noticed that for the first time in years, there was light in my eyes.
Chapter Six – Christa
Two days into my vacation, I had a pretty decent routine set up.
I woke up before dawn, the same as always, and opened the doors leading to my balcony. The view of the beach and crystal-clear water beyond was breathtaking. After some stretching out there, I’d lace up my running shoes and explore the trails around the perimeter of the resort. After that, it was time for breakfast—the freshest fruit I ever tasted, scrumptious pastries, coffee so rich it just about set my hair standing on end. After that, I’d bum around the beach, or go for a swim. Lunch, nap, dinner. Relaxing, reading, drinking a lot of tropical beverages.
The resort was magical, the sort of place I always imagined. Everything was so clean and bright white—the walls, the curtains, the linens. High ceilings, wide hallways, and from the beach it simply gleamed like a diamond in the sun.
I had everything I needed to be completely happy. So why was I so miserable?
I shook my head at the thought of the word “miserable”. I wasn’t miserable. I was only bored. Reflecting on that boredom was what was making me miserable. That and all the sand.
Sure, I had spent time on hot sand before, back when I was deployed and the heat was unlike anything I had ever known. I learned to hate sand back then and hadn’t been on a beach since, not even the random trip to Atlantic City or Barnegat. Absolutely nothing.
But Jamaica wasn’t either of those places. There were no palm trees in Atlantic City that weren’t plastic, the sand wasn’t nearly as white, and the water was—putting it nicely—cloudy. Comparing the Jersey shore to Jamaica was like comparing a school playground to Disney World.
I found an empty chair under a shady palm tree and ordered a piña colada from a passing waiter. I didn’t care that it was only ten in the morning. Why should I care? I was on vacation, after all. Nobody cared when they were on vacation. If I were back home at brunch, it would be acceptable.
I realized I was rationalizing even though there was no reason to. I had nobody to answer to. So I settled into my chair and cracked open a book I’d been dying to read for two years. The water lapped gently at the sand and I had much of the beach to myself that early in the day.
And I wished the week would end so I could go home already.
Not that being in paradise was a hardship. It was gorgeous, and I did feel soothed in a way. Only I wasn’t the type of person who did well with forced relaxation. I felt itchy, like I needed to move. I had to be doing something more than sitting and reading. And drinking.
I closed the book and closed my eyes. What a waste of time and money. The money! Like I had the money to throw around on a trip I wasn’t enjoying. Two days in and I already wanted to go home, even if it meant sitting alone in my apartment while wearing the same clothes for days on end. At least I wouldn’t feel guilty for not having an amazing time. Was there any guilt-free thing in my life? Was I broken somehow? Maybe that was it. I broke somewhere along the way and just didn’t realize it because there was too much noise going on around me to notice.
I pulled my hair from its clip and shook it out over my shoulders so I could be a little more comfortable while I brooded. At least the sun made it blonder. One positive thing. I’d get home looking tan and blonder and people would know, for at least a little while, that I had been on vacation. Then my tan would fade and I’d go back to looking like a New Yorker in winter like everybody else.
I sensed a presence beside me and guessed it was my waiter. I didn’t open my eyes before saying, “Can I have another drink, please? And some water, too. Thank you.”
“There’s plenty of water right there in front of you. Why do you need more?”
I knew that voice. Every nerve ending in my body tingled and my heart skipped a beat. Was it possible? “I like my water without salt,” I said, then I opened my eyes. And there he was.
I sat up slowly, sure I was in the middle of a dream. Only in dreams did things like this happen. “What are you doing here?” I whispered, taking him in from head to toe. I had never seen him out of a tee and jeans before. His khaki shorts and sky blue button-down that matched his eyes told me he was out of work mode—and he looked fantastic. He could’ve been wearing a burlap sack and he would’ve looked fantastic.
He shrugged and sat on the chair beside mine, facing me. “It’s just all the talking you did about this place made me pretty jealous, you know? I mean, when’s the last time I took a vacation? Five years ago? More?”
“More, I think.” I was breathless, unable to process what was happening. He couldn’t be serious. I had to be dreaming. No—I could feel the sun on my skin, the sand under my feet as I swung my legs over the side of the chair to face him. I could feel my cheeks flushing with excitement and hear blood rushing in my ears. None of that happened in a dream.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. So, I figured I would give this place a shot, too.” He smiled slowly, looking me up and down with an appreciative gleam in his eye. “It’s done good things for you already.”
“I’ve been here for all of forty-eight hours,” I murmured.
“Still. You look great. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so relaxed.”
I had to laugh. “I was just thinking about how much I hate trying to relax when you walked up.”
“Really?” His eyebrows shot up. “Are you not having a good time?”
“I guess I am—I’m just not a natural relaxer. I feel like I should be doing something all the time. When I relax, my head starts going in all different directions.”
“Sometimes we’re so alike, it’s terrifying.”
I grinned. “What a surprise. You’re the same way.”
“Why do you think I never take a vacation?”
I dug my feet into the sand and looked down at them. “So what brings you here? Really. What made you decide to come?”
Hs sigh was heavy. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
“Gonna make you say what?” I couldn’t breathe. I was going to die right there.
“That I came for you. I wanted to be with you.”
I dared raise my eyes to meet his. “You mean it?” I whispered.
“Hell, yes.” He leaned forward and took my face in his hands so quickly, I didn’t have time to react. Not like I would’ve pulled away, not for anything. His mout
h covered mine and fireworks exploded in my head. It was everything I had ever hoped for and more. He was soft, tender, but strong. There was power behind his kiss, and a feeling like I wanted nothing more than to surrender to him. I wanted him to sweep me up in his arms and carry me off to ecstasy—and all he had done so far was press his lips to mine.
“Wow,” I whispered when the kiss ended. My heart raced so fast, I felt dizzy and giddy and could barely breathe.
He touched his forehead to mine. “Yeah. Wow.”
“That took a long time.”
“Yeah, it did.”
“But it was worth the wait.”
“Yeah, it was. That was one of the all-time great kisses.”
I giggled. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“You know what else I would like?”
“What?”
“If I could be alone with you right now.” He pulled away far enough to look in my eyes, and the expression in his told me he wasn’t joking. It was all too good to be true. I was sure of it. Somebody would jump out from behind a palm tree and tell me I was on Candid Camera or something similarly ridiculous.
But they didn’t. It was just the two of us.
“Yes. I want that, too.” I stood, gathering my things. “I want it right now. Do you have a room?”
“Honestly? No. I don’t.”
I stopped to stare at him. “What was your game plan, Pax? Were you going to show up here and hope I would let you stay with me in my room?”
He shrugged with a sexy, confident grin. He had no idea how sexy he was. He couldn’t possibly. “Something like that. Or I figured I could con another girl into letting me stay with her.”
“Charming. Why don’t you do that, then?” I walked away, but he was too quick. I squealed when he grabbed me around the waist and spun me around.
“I thought you wanted to be alone.” His voice was a low, deep growl. Sensual. It sent shivers down my spine.
I pretended to think about it. “All right. I guess I still do. As long as I know there isn’t anybody out here you’d rather be with.”
He looked around, pretending to be serious, then shook his head. “Nope. You’re the only one.”
I took him by the hand. “Come with me, sir.”
Chapter Seven– Pax
I deserve this. We both deserve this. Even as we kissed and my body responded to the feeling of her in my arms, the sensation of her mouth against mine, I couldn’t keep myself from thinking. I was always thinking. But they weren’t bad thoughts, not at all. I could only think about how we had both waited a long time to be together. Of course I wanted it—I wouldn’t have flown all the way to Jamaica if I didn’t have some idea about the way things would turn out—but it was tough to be in the moment when I couldn’t shut my brain down and just feel. It had been so long since I had just felt.
She, on the other hand, came alive in my arms. I realized I was holding a woman who had only been waiting for me to come along and spark that special something in her. She was like fire, something fierce and bright and elemental and mine. She was mine just then, in that moment. Nobody else’s. The way she melted against me said she liked it just fine that way.
I opened my mouth ever so slightly. She parted her lips in response. I touched my tongue to hers, darting it out to explore the warm wetness of her mouth. A sigh seemed to travel straight up from her toes, through her body and from her mouth into mine. That was all I needed. It had been so long, not just for us, but since I had been with a woman. How had I forgotten how much I needed this? There was something real about it, more real than anything else I knew. Like getting back to what mattered. And it was her. That made it even better.
My hands slid over the thin, cotton dress. Her skin was warm underneath—I wondered if that was from the sun or from what my kiss was doing to her. She pressed herself to me, clutching me like her life depended on it. I wanted to lower her to the ground and devour her right there.
“Your room,” I whispered between kisses. She tipped her head back so I could trail my lips over her jaw and down her throat. Her skin was sweet, but there was a salty tang to it thanks to the salt in the air. I licked it up and felt her shiver in my arms.
“Hurry,” she whispered back, pulling away and taking my hand to lead me up there. I adjusted my shorts over the bulge I was already sporting and managed to make it through the lobby and into the elevator before my hands just had to be on her again. I didn’t care if anybody noticed how crazed we obviously were—we were probably not the first couple to rush back to a room after dinner.
Once the doors closed, she was in my arms again. I had to touch her. She was magnetic, a drug, something I didn’t ever want to get enough of. She was everything, the entire world. Right there under my hands, in my arms, sighing and whimpering and tasting like the ocean and candy and everything that was good and right. Why had we waited so long? It was already so good and we were both fully dressed.
The best part was knowing her. She wasn’t a stranger. When I touched her, it felt right, like it was meant to be that way. I was touching somebody I liked a lot, maybe more. Somebody I respected. Somebody I trusted and relied on. That made it even sweeter as we left the elevator and hurried down the hall to her room. No sooner were we inside than I picked her up, hands under her amazingly firm ass. Her mouth covered mine in an instant while her legs wrapped tight around my waist. We kissed and groped each other as I carried her to the bed. She tore at my shirt—I heard a few buttons pop off—and the moment I had her on the bed, I started working her dress up over her thighs.
She sat up, lifting herself off the mattress to pull the little scrap of cotton over her head. Her body was firm, full, lush. All curves and softness. My hands found her without me having to think about it—she was like a magnet, drawing me to her. I was powerless against her.
Once she was bare except for a tiny thong, I lowered her to the bed and followed her down. She held the back of my head in her hands as we kissed, tasting and feeling each other, taking our time. We had all night—longer, even. And there was a lot of time to make up for.
She was so sweet, sensual, soft. Her body already moved in waves from head to toe—back arching, hips undulating, her entire body wanting to touch all of mine. Who wouldn’t get hard just from the knowledge that he could turn on a woman like her? I felt my cock straining against my zipper and winced even as the pain reminded me of the pleasure yet to come. She ran a firm yet tentative hand over that bulge and I sighed, driving myself into her palm.
I needed to taste her. I started at her chin, then her throat. She rolled her head from side to side as my tongue swept over her soft skin. Her pulse pounded under my lips, throbbing the way I was throbbing for her, and her hand rubbed firm circles over my straining cock. When I heard the zipper lowering I thanked God and devoured her with new energy.
Her tits were full and round and pushing up into my mouth as she arched her back, muttering sweet, almost unintelligible words. How she wanted me, how good it felt. And my name. Over and over in the dark bedroom. I latched onto one of her perfect pink rosebuds and sucked while one hand fondled the other. She arched sharply, crying out, which only drove me further. Below my belt, she slid me from my shorts and boxers and ran her hand over my hard length. I gritted my teeth, the pleasure almost too much to take. It had been so long. I couldn’t stop marveling at how long it had been and how much time we had wasted when it was so good already. We were so good together.
“I need you,” she whispered as she rolled her head from side to side. “Please, take me. Now.” She let go of my cock and finished unbuttoning my shirt with trembling fingers. I helped her, and once the shirt was on the floor she ran her hands over my chest, my abs, then hooked her fingers in the waistband of my shorts. “Off,” she commanded. I stood at the edge of the bed and dropped them to the floor while she wiggled out of her thong. Her eyes went wide at the sight of me, just like mine did at the sight of her. When she held her arms out to me, I went to her again.
This time, I settled myself over her with my thigh between her legs.
I ran my fingers up her slit, feeling the wet heat already gathered there. “Yessss…” She gasped, rocking her hips and arching her back. She almost came just from that little bit of contact, clutching me, digging her nails into my shoulders and rubbing herself against me. I pressed my thigh into her mound, behind my hand, and she humped me hungrily. I let her go, watching her with wonder. There she was—buttoned up, tough as nails, the sort of person I wanted by my side when things got tough. Humping madly, straining for pleasure, passion overtaking her until she arched one last time and went stiff from head to toe. I held my breath, waiting for it to break—when it did, she cried out in a voice already hoarse, then settled into the bed with a smile and a sigh. She opened her eyes to look up at me, and something clenched inside my chest.
I had to give her more. All she could handle.
There were condoms in my wallet, and I reached down to the floor to fumble for one while she chuckled throatily, sexily, and her hands took a lingering tour of whatever they could reach. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.
“You’re the one who’s beautiful.” I opened the wrapper and unrolled the condom over my cock, which was almost aching at that point. She watched, biting her lip, meeting my eyes when I was finished. There was a look in them I had never seen before—not just from her, but from any woman. Like she wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel me inside her.
I lowered myself over her, and she welcomed me gladly. Her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms around my shoulders. Our bodies touched from head to toe. It felt so right, it scared me a little.
“Yes?” I whispered. I had to be sure. I didn’t want her to ever regret it. We could still go back from that point, where we were just then. We could never take it back if we went all the way. I wanted her more than I had ever wanted anything. I craved her more than I craved air in my lungs. Still, I wouldn’t ruin our friendship. We had known each other for too long and I depended on her too much as a friend.
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