“Hailey mentioned you’re homeless now. What’s that about?” I dive right off the cliff into the deep water.
“Homeless? Not really. Yes, most of my things are in storage in San Diego, and I crammed as much stuff into the Mini as would fit before leaving town. I think of myself more in transition. I needed a break from San Diego and Damien. Originally I planned to go back to New Mexico. At least for a few months. I drove north instead of east and here I am.”
“You’re a drifter.”
“Sounds mysterious and a little dangerous.” She peers at me over her sunglasses, but I can’t read her expression.
I do know she’s both of those things.
If I were a smarter man, I’d stay away.
I HELP HER over the driftwood giant again, but she releases my hand right away this time.
The incoming tide narrows the beach at the base of the bluff. I’m glad we didn’t wait longer to head back.
When the sky finally releases its rain, it’s in a downpour and not a mist.
Cari takes off in a jog, yelling, “Race you!”
I give her a twenty-second lead and then decide to make it thirty seconds. She holds my cap with one hand trying to keep the rain out of her face.
At forty-five seconds, I take off in a slow run. The sand slows me down a little, so I stick close to the water.
I catch up to her before we reach the tidal pool and reduce my pace to match hers. She scowls and tries to sprint through the deeper sand.
When I pass her, I jog backward for a few steps. She flips me her favorite finger.
Grinning, I race up the stairs. Once I hit the concrete, I sprint to our cars.
I can’t recommend running in jeans, but the look on Cari’s face when she sees me leaning against my truck makes it worth it.
Her cheeks are flushed and she’s breathing hard.
Combined with the way she moves when she dances, I now have a clear picture of what she’d be like in bed.
“I think you should tell a girl upfront you’re a runner if she challenges you to a race.” Her chest heaves with her breath, drawing my eyes to her breasts.
“You didn’t discuss race parameters before you took off. No one to blame but yourself.”
“What are you? Some sort of marathoner?”
“All State in track.”
“Yeah, that was when? A decade ago? I competed in gymnastics from five until fourteen, but that’s not helping me now.”
I add bendy and flexible to the things I imagine about Cari in bed.
“I compete in the occasional triathlon.”
“Your stamina is impressive. You’re not out of breath at all.”
I push off from the side of the truck and cage her against her car. “You like my stamina? Now imagine how good I am in bed.”
Her gasp is soft, but I catch it. I want to shock her. Something about her gets under my skin. I want her to feel the same.
With a low chuckle, I snatch my cap from her hair.
She grabs for it and I hold it over my head. When she jumps, her body slides against mine as she lands.
My stamina may be impressive, but my self-control sucks.
I grip her hips to keep her from escaping.
Escape seems to be the last thing on her mind when she leans into me and crashes her lips against mine with zero hesitation.
Our height difference means I have to slouch a little. I spread my legs wider and she settles between them. Once we have the right angle, I waste no time taking control of the kiss. I brush my tongue along her bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth. Her full lips have starred in several of my dreams. They don’t disappoint.
I release my grip and wrap my forearm around her lower back, pulling her closer to me. My tongue slides past her plump lips and I taste her. She’s all mint and something sweet; I can’t get enough.
In this position our bodies touch from hip to chest. It’s both heaven and torture. I feel my cock swell with the friction her slight movements are creating against me. It’s not enough to be able to get me off or probably even fully hard, but it’s the most action my body has received from a woman in months.
She drops her arms and I pause, thinking she’s going to push me away. Instead she pulls me closer by gripping the front of my flannel.
She wants me. The same energy that’s sparked arguments and snarky words, morphs into intense lust.
I need this woman. In my bed. Under me. Above me. Moaning for me. Screaming my name.
Evidently, I was wrong about not being able to get fully hard from barely a touch. Within minutes, I’m pressed against the fly of my jeans. It’s becoming uncomfortable, but I don’t want to do anything to stop what’s going on between us.
One of her hands drifts lower and brushes against the button of my jeans. I still her movement with my hand. Reluctantly breaking contact with her mouth, I kiss a path along her jaw.
“We’re in a parking lot in the middle of the day. Anyone could show up right now.”
My words are a bucket of icy salt water pulled from the Sound. She tilts her hips back and her arms slowly drop to her side in rejection.
“I’m not saying I’m not enjoying the hell out of kissing you, but before we go any further, let’s go someplace private. I don’t want to be interrupted again.”
“Your place?” she whispers, drawing my focus to her lips again. They’re plump and deep red from our kissing.
“Huh?” I’m lost in thoughts of her mouth again.
“Should we go to your place?”
“What day is it?”
She lifts an eyebrow. “Thursday. Why?”
“Carter will be home early today.”
“Oh.”
“Right.” I duck my head and steal a quick kiss. “What about yours? You don’t have roommates.”
We stare at each other for a beat.
“Lois,” we say at the same time.
“You can sneak me in. I’ll leave the Bronco up the road at Greenbank Farm.”
“She’ll probably be watching from the living room window.”
“No problem. I’ll hide and you’ll distract her. When she’s not paying attention, I’ll sneak past the windows and wait for you under the deck.”
“Sounds like a lot of sneaking around. Have you done this sort of thing before?”
“Not since high school.”
I feel the energy shift as we lose momentum. She’s lost in her head and rationalizing what a bad idea I am.
I slowly drag my lips across hers and slide my tongue along the center, silently asking her to let me in. Her mouth opens slightly and I accept the invitation. Deepening the kiss again, I pull her closer.
In this moment I don’t care if anyone sees us. I don’t want this feeling to stop. If we leave this parking lot, there’s a good chance one of us will come to our senses.
Clearly that’s not me.
“Erik.” She exhales more than speaks my name.
I kiss her to avoid whatever she will say next. An even better idea comes to mind. I turn us so she’s against the Bronco and I’m against her. Linking our hands, I raise them above her head.
Caged in by my larger size, she stares up at me with dark eyes. “What happened to someone seeing us?”
“Let them.” I kiss her neck and suck her earlobe between my teeth before gently biting the tender skin. I lean my head against her forehead. “I’m tired of giving a fuck what other people think about me. I can’t control anything but myself. They’re going to write whatever they want and spread lies as truth. Nothing I can do about it. I’m powerless. So fuck it. I’m taking what I want.”
I drop one of my hands to her chin and tilt her mouth up to mine. “I want you.”
THE FEELING OF getting caught in the parking lot returns.
I’m a teenager again, sneaking into a girl’s house while her parents are upstairs watching TV.
At least this is the feeling I imagine I would’ve had if I ever had the chance.
/> As I wait by the door to Cari’s apartment, I hear voices move through the house upstairs. I duck beneath the deck as the sliding door upstairs opens. Through the gaps in the deck, I can see Cari’s shoes followed by Lois’s house slippers. I press my back against the wall, silently moving toward the slider. I test the lock and find it open. Guess Cari’s adapting to island life quickly.
Or she didn’t realize it was unlocked. Now I’m on high alert some creeper has broken into her space. Another creeper besides me.
I pick up a heavy paperback from the nightstand and hold it above my head to wallop any intruder I find.
Shoving away the shower curtain, I exhale to not find someone dressed as his dead mother wielding a knife.
No serial killer behind the bathroom door either.
I carefully open the bedroom closet and then the hall closet while inside my inner voice is yelling at me to get out.
This never ends well in the movies.
The living room and bathroom are clear.
Shit.
I forgot to check under the bed—classic mistake of forgetting to check under the bed.
To avoid having my ankles grabbed, I belly-flop on the bed and carefully lift the fabric hiding the murderer/monster/demon behind its pink ruffles.
“Showing off your assets again?” Cari’s standing in front of me when I lift my head.
“Checking for serial killers,” I mumble, pushing myself up to kneeling.
“How’d you get in here?”
“You left your door unlocked.” I point to the still open slider.
“Oops. Lois seems to always be home.” She closes and locks the door before pulling the vertical blinds across the glass.
“Come here.” I motion with my forefinger.
“What?” She stops a foot away from me
“How’s her hearing?” I tug her closer to me by the damp sleeve of her shirt.
“Depends how loud she turns up the volume on the TV.”
One more tug of her sleeve and she’s standing in front of me. “We should get out of these damp clothes.”
“We?”
Nodding, I look up and stare into her eyes.
I rub the back of my hand along the border between skin and fabric above her jeans. My pinky touches warm, naked Cari. The lucky bastard.
Something has shifted between us. No longer can I see her as only a hellion or jezebel set on ruining my life.
This crazy whirlwind has affected her life, too.
We’ll be forever bonded by a weekend in Mexico.
“What did you have in mind?” She’s curious, but hesitant. I hear the doubt in her voice.
“Do you have a dryer?”
She runs her fingers through my damp hair. “You blow-dry your hair?”
I hold her hand in place, running my nose along her wrist, inhaling a floral scent. “Clothes dryer.”
“You didn’t find it when you were checking the place for stalkers?”
I try to remember seeing a washer or dryer.
“The answer is no. I share with Lois.”
“Guess we’ll have to air-dry.” I undo a button on my flannel. She doesn’t stop me, so I unbutton the next one.
“Wait,” she whispers.
My fingers pause by my buttons.
“What are we doing here?”
“Removing my clothes.”
“What are you going to wear while they dry?” She lifts a perfectly arched eyebrow.
“You’ve already seen me naked.”
Her lips part and my mind goes to kissing them again. As soon as possible.
“From a distance. In public. Surrounded by other people. Outside.” Her words flow out in a flustered, disjointed speech.
“Excellent argument. We should even things out.” I brush the back of my hand down the inside of her arm.
“How?”
I slide a finger underneath her shirt again. “You need to get naked.”
“Excuse me?”
“The sooner the better.” I dip my finger below the band of her pants. The soft warmth of her skin contrasts against the rough denim.
“You’re not going to make me streak around outside the house, are you?”
“Is that an option? One lap around the property?” I make my eyes wide and waggle my eyebrows. “I’ll join you.”
“Lois? Did you forget about her?”
“Do you think she’s camera and web savvy?”
“You can’t seriously be suggesting we run around naked. Outside.”
“No, of course not. That would be stupid. But there’s no reason we can’t be naked inside. Together.” My logic is circular at best, but my intentions are true.
I’ve given her an out. She hasn’t run away screaming. Or laughed at me. She hasn’t kicked me out yet. I’m feeling pretty confident this is going to happen.
Clearly, I’m jinxing myself.
Her laughter begins softly, nothing more than a breathy chuckle turns into a full-blown cackle.
At least I’m not naked.
Yet.
I want to be naked with her, but not while she’s laughing at me. With me is different. Sometimes sex ends up being funny. It should always be fun.
Cari’s laughter stops. “I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”
Keeping my eyes on the carpet, I shrug.
“You’re serious.” Her voice softens and she touches my chin.
Shaking off her touch, I meet her gaze. “No, of course not.”
“You are.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I mumble, dropping my gaze to the corner of the bed. Silently, I debate how to exit this nightmare. I chuckle and let the noise break the awkward tension. I have no game when it comes to women. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes this. Walking away will save me from more awkwardness and failed attempts to be smooth.
“I want you, too.” Her fingers entwine with mine. With her other hand, she touches my fly.
My brain goes on hold when she unzips it, and I forget my middle name when her thumb swipes across the front of my boxers where the tip of my cock presses against the fabric.
She kneels in front of me, keeping eye contact as she pulls me out of my jeans and grips me.
I lightly touch her jaw, making her pause. She nods in response to my silent question before licking the tip.
As she drags her teeth along the underside, I try to think of something to distract me from the pleasure surging through me.
I list varieties of Arabica coffee beans:
Arusha
Blue Mountain
Colombian
Ethiopian Harar
Kona
Java . . .
Damn. She flattens her tongue before sucking and I lose track. I grip the comforter in my hands. Right before I lose my mind, she slides her mouth off of me. Still gripping me, she softly brushes her lips over the tip.
I’m ready to beg her for more, but I’m not sure I want to finish this way. I want more, but we’re still clothed.
Not that I’m complaining.
As I watch, she wraps her lips around me and sucks me back into her mouth.
No complaints from me.
Her hand rests on my upper thigh, and I try to focus on the pressure point before I lose control. The line between stopping and coming is right in front of me when she moves her hand off my thigh and cups me.
Screw it. There’s always round two.
“I’m really close.” I give her a polite warning.
She doesn’t stop. In fact, she speeds up and increases the pressure.
My muscles in my abs and legs tighten and my hips buck as I explode. I close my eyes when the sensation becomes too intense before stilling her hand with mine.
Pleasure overwhelms me and I lie back on the bed as the last of my orgasm fades.
Consciousness and thought slowly return.
My middle name is Andrew. For my grandfather.
My eyes are still closed but I feel Cari climb on the mattre
ss next to me. Her weight shifts and her body heat warms my side. I slide my arm under her shoulder to roll her closer to me.
“You’re amazing.”
She lightly scratches her nails down my chest. “Thank you.”
“I have one negative about what just happened.” I open one eye to check out her reaction.
Her fingers still and her nails press into my skin for a second. “What?”
I open both eyes at her tone. I was going for playful, but her voice sounds hurt.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.” I pluck at the fabric on her back.
Sighing, she tucks her face against my chest. “You need to work on your feedback delivery.”
I replay my words from the last several minutes.
I have one negative. Oh, shit.
“If I can get you out of these clothes, then there’s nothing to complain about.” I press her back into the mattress to kiss her.
She breaks the kiss to giggle. “You’re really terrible at the dirty talk as foreplay.”
Her giggling makes kissing impossible. I straddle her and pin her arms above her head, trying to fight my own laughter.
“Who said I was dirty talking? Or attempting foreplay? Maybe I’m the kind of guy who gets a blow job,” I pause and wait for her to meet my eyes, “an incredible, mind-blowing blow job, and am satisfied enough to walk away.”
“Don’t even joke about being that guy. I’ve dated that guy.”
Memories of the jerk she was with the night we met flash in my head. Annoyance rumbles in my chest. I may not be smooth, but I try not to be an asshole when it comes to women. “I’m kidding. That’s like eating a single chicken wing and calling it quits.”
Her eyes narrow at my analogy like she doesn’t believe me.
Or the chicken wing analogy isn’t the best thing to say when talking about going down on a woman. Hey, if you do it right, both are messy.
“Bad comparison?” I need to stop talking. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and drag my teeth over the plump flesh, intentionally distracting her from my inability to speak and hopefully making her think of my mouth some place else on her body.
Remaining silent, I kiss her jaw, her neck, moving my body lower as I trail kisses along the exposed skin above her collar. I let my fingers explore below the hem. It’s not enough. “This shirt needs to go.”
Anything but Love (Wingmen #3) Page 15