Dirty Secrets

by Lush, Tamara

I reared back and frowned. Women could be so confusing. Here I was with a massive hard-on, ready to drop to my knees and beg for sex, and she was asking if I was attracted to her.

  "What?" I said, incredulous.

  "I'm bigger than when we first met. I mean, I know I was a tall girl and a little thick even then, but I've kind of filled out since. I didn't know if maybe..." She stopped talking, probably because I was staring at her, horrified.

  "Hell no," I growled. "I can't even believe you'd say that, Jess. I love your body. Always have. Jesus." I looked at her thighs and her stomach and her breasts and inhaled deeply. Fuck, I wanted her. Now. Forever.

  Then I took her hand and guided it to the front of my shorts. "Does this feel like someone who's not turned on?"

  She stroked a few times, her palm pressed against my cock. When she stopped, I groaned as if I was in pain.

  She lifted her legs and wrapped them around my hips again, guiding me close to her. "I'm sorry. I was doing okay about my body for a while, going to yoga with my friend Skylar. She was a big girl too, but she believed in just owning her size."

  I twirled her hair around my index fingers. "She sounds like a good influence. Stick with her."

  Jessica sighed. "She was good for me. But she left for Miami with her fiancé last year, and then everything happened with Mom and Jacob and I started feeling bad about myself again. Sorry. You know how women are. We're all self-conscious about our bodies. Even the skinny ones."

  I shot her another skeptical look and let go of her hair. "I guess I haven't picked up on that. I mean, I've been busy fighting a war and all. Believe it or not, I haven't been around a ton of women." Not when the only one I could think about was her.

  "I know it's stupid, talking about weight. But I'm sure every woman you've dated has complained about her body or size or face in some way. We're all the same."

  I brushed my lips against hers, then looked into her eyes, which had darkened to emerald. Now was the time for my confession.

  "I've only ever been with one woman. And she's right in front of me, wearing a Hello Kitty T-shirt with her legs wrapped around me. You know what size she is? Size sexy."

  Jessica's mouth opened into a surprised half-smile. I grinned and landed a kiss on her nose.

  "You've only slept with one woman? Me?"

  I nodded, and a little shiver escaped me. She'd slipped her hands under my shirt and was touching his bare skin. Goosebumps spread everywhere across my chest.

  "Why?"

  I shrugged, not sure how much I should admit. "I went into the military right after graduation. I didn't have a chance to meet anyone. And I was kind of hung up on you for a long time."

  Her mouth curved into a pretty smile, and she grazed her fingers over my pecs. I went in for a kiss, my mouth seeking hers. But she interrupted.

  "I've only been with one guy. You."

  "Really?" I pulled back. She was so gorgeous, and her kisses were so sensual, I'd assumed she'd slept with others. Didn't want to think about it, but had assumed. And what about her ex back at the coffee shop?

  "I never slept with Jacob, thank God. We...well, it wasn't meant to be."

  "I guess we never got over each other, did we?" I asked. I thought I heard something odd in her voice when she spoke about Jacob, but I didn't want to ask about the details. Just the image of them together made me want to punch something. And her hands traveled downward, making my thoughts fail. All I could think about was how I wanted her to keep going lower and lower.

  "Nope. And after what happened with you and me, I…like, shied away from guys and sex for a long time. Went on some dates, but just couldn't. Not after us."

  I rested my lips on her forehead, thinking. "That was so messed up, wasn't it? God, that week our parents found out...it was so awful."

  "I know. I wish I hadn't panicked and told my mom I thought I was pregnant."

  Her hands traced my stomach muscles, and I involuntarily twitched.

  "Are you still ticklish?" she asked. She skimmed my skin lightly, and I laughed.

  I didn't want to talk about anything bad right now. I kissed her again, hard, and the fire between us flared. I bit her lip until she moaned and scratched my back with her nails.

  "So, let's just get this fully out of the way," I said as she fluttered kisses along my jaw toward my ear. "You're gorgeous. I love your size. I mean, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm kind of a big guy myself."

  "Mmm, I have noticed," she said, her fingers finding my nipple and pinching it gently, sending a jolt straight to my cock. "But you're muscular."

  "Whatever. I prefer bigger women. I prefer you. Know what I want you to wear?"

  "What?" she whispered, leaning into me so there was a sexy curve in her lower back.

  "Anything that makes you happy. I like your curves and your juiciness." I reached around and squeezed her ass with both hands, growling as I did.

  She laughed, then narrowed her eyes. "So, if you like my juiciness, why didn't you want to stay over the other night?"

  "I did. But I told you, I want to go slow. But it's so damn difficult around you. I want..." I pushed out a breath. "I knew Jessica the girl. I want to know Jessica the woman. I want to know your dreams and your wishes. I want to figure out what makes you happy. I want—"

  I'd been about to say, I want you because I love you, but I stopped myself. What was I doing? I couldn't have any of this. Not now, not ever.

  "Okay. I get it," she said.

  My hands were still on my thighs, and I ran them along her bare, silky legs. When I slipped my fingertips under the hem of her shorts, she squirmed, so I moved back to the safe territory of her knees. But by now, my cock—hell, my whole body—was throbbing with need.

  "You're leaving eventually, aren't you?" She looked me squarely in the eye.

  I nodded slowly as I remembered New Orleans. This wasn't the conversation I wanted to have while I was rock hard. A heaviness settled onto my shoulders. "Probably. But aren't you trying to sell the hotel? I heard you and your sister talk about an appraisal. Aren't we both leaving eventually?"

  She shrugged. "Nicole wants to sell."

  "Do you want that?"

  "I'm not sure. I don't know what I want. On one hand, I love it here on Palmira. It's all I've ever known." She shrugged and tipped her head from side to side. "On the other, it's all I've ever known. I'd love to see more of the world."

  "What do you want in your heart?"

  She looked up. "I want my sister to stop trying to pretend my mother never existed."

  Jessica's voice sounded choked with pain, I took her chin between my finger and thumb. "People grieve differently. Maybe this is your sister's way of honoring your mother by moving on and not being sentimental. That might sound odd to you, but maybe it makes sense to her."

  Jessica thought a moment, then nodded. "Maybe. That's pretty wise, actually."

  "I've had a lot of wise advice—or therapy. Whatever you want to call it. All thanks to the United States Marine Corps."

  Jess wrapped herself around me again, and we hugged for a long time. If only I could stay like this forever, lost in her coconut-vanilla smell and her arms.

  Pulling out of my embrace, she eased off the table to stand next to me. Breaking the silence, she said, "I've gotta leave now. Not because I'm running away from you, but because I promised my sister I'd meet her at the hotel and work the desk. I'm already late. I'll take a rain check on that coffee, though. And on everything else we talked about."

  I grinned. "I'm definitely down for the 'everything else' at some point, sooner or later."

  "Good. Because I am too."

  Jess paused at the door, turning back with happiness shimmering in her eyes.

  "Thank you," she said.

  I tilted my head. "For what?"

  "For saving me from Jacob. For being understanding. For being attracted to me for who I am."

  "How could I not be attracted to you?"

  A grin twisted her lip
s, and she walked back to plant another kiss on my lips. "See you later."

  Her voice was a sexy whisper, and it sent even more desire crashing through me.

  And a tinge of hopelessness.

  Chapter 23

  Ever

  LEO

  Why was there a dead Afghani man in my bathtub? No. No. No.

  My heart hammered, and I ran.

  Fear clawing through me, I booked down the stairs of my apartment and through the bakery, fumbling for the truck keys in my pocket. I needed to see if Jessica was okay, if there were any dead people in her hotel. That's all I wanted—to make sure she was okay.

  Once safely inside my truck, I locked the doors and fired it up.

  Music came on, full blast. It was a bluesy rock song by The Black Keys, and the fuzz of the guitar jarred me awake.

  Fuck. It happened again. Only this time, I'd almost driven my truck through the sleepy streets of Palmira.

  My chest was pounding like I was going to have a heart attack. Gasping, I killed the ignition and rested my head against the steering wheel as the nighttime island silence overtook me. Once again, my body was clammy with sweat.

  I'd been exhausted and had taken a sleeping pill...

  I lifted my head and looked at the empty street. Sleepwalking. Which had almost turned into sleep-driving. And Christ, I'd also had a nightmare. This combination of a fugue state and a terrifying dream was a new and entirely unwelcome development.

  Fucking awesome. I scrubbed my face with my hands. What if I hadn't woken up? What if I'd killed someone while driving? Would I have ended up at Jessica's? The very thought made my gut twist. When was this going to end?

  When would I get better?

  Ever?

  Chapter 24

  A Beautiful Model

  JESSICA

  I'd barely slept and didn't want to get out of bed. I rolled onto my stomach and thought about Leo.

  First the kiss, then the episode with Jacob. Then how Leo had stepped in between me and Jacob at the perfect moment and taken me into his arms. And afterward, the seriously hot make-out session at his bakery.

  And the time I'd spent with him in the four days since.

  It was so difficult to believe he'd only been with one woman. Me. But it also made sense. From what he'd told me during several subsequent conversations he'd enlisted in the Marines not long after we met in high school.

  They'd been incredible, these past few days with him. Every spare minute, as much as our work schedules would allow, we were together. Sand sculpting. Talking on the beach until sunset. Having coffee. Once he'd even come over for breakfast. We were taking things slow.

  He was so different than the boy I first met. Serious and thoughtful. The years had changed him, made him sharper, edgier. He talked often about politics and foreign policy, and I wondered aloud why he wasn't going to college, what with his interests and passionate views.

  "Maybe someday." He'd shrugged, then changed the subject.

  Also, he was achingly similar to the Leo I'd known as a teenager. He was often clever, sometimes shy, and unfailingly polite around me. A gentleman, always opening doors and seeing to my needs. He hadn't lost that trait.

  So, Leo definitely wasn't a player like Jacob. He was honorable and so incredibly sensual, sometimes to the point where his smoldering looks and long caresses of my palm with his fingertips made me want to combust.

  We'd kissed every so often, but since we hung out in mostly public places, we'd refrained from ravaging each other. But there had been one night when he walked me home from the café that he hugged me so hard on my porch and grabbed a fistful of my hair as he whispered fiercely in my ear. "I will always want you, Jess. In every way you can think of and a thousand more. Don't ever, ever forget that."

  He felt so...right. And yet, I worried.

  Eventually, he'd want to have sex. What if I had the same problem I'd had with Jacob? I'd come close to telling Leo about it, but figured he didn't want to know about how my body had reacted to another man. It just didn't seem like something to discuss casually, if ever, with a guy. Well, I'd deal with it when and if we got that far. Right now, I was enjoying our time together.

  I flipped over in bed, burrowing under the covers and yawning. Then, stretching contentedly like a cat, I tossed the covers off and grabbed my mother's journal from the nightstand. I'd been meaning to read more for some time.

  JUNE 12: I think we're finding our equilibrium. Mom takes care of the girls in the morning while I attend to everything at the hotel. Then she takes over in the afternoon and I play with the girls. Once I wrangle them into bed, I attempt to clean the apartment. I'm exhausted, though, and on top of that, lonely. Trying hard not to be bitter. It would be nice to have an adult conversation with a man over a real dinner, not a discussion of a purple dinosaur with two kids over mac-and-cheese.

  Weird. I'd never really imagined my mom wanting an adult conversation. She'd been so seemingly happy to entertain me and Nicole with games and toys, it was as if she’d been made for just that—being a mother. It was funny how the journals now forced me to look at Mom in a new light. As a woman, not a single mom.

  I glanced at my phone and swiped it to check the time. Time to get up. I set the journal on my nightstand. It was five in the morning.

  Over the next few hours, I buzzed through my morning tasks, my mind on Leo. Showered, brewed coffee, and set the table. With a huge smile, I answered guests' questions.

  The sand sculpture competition will be judged on Valentine's Day.

  Yes, there's an art show as part of Palmira Winterfest. The schedule's here, printed in the Palmira Post.

  Sunset's at about five-thirty. Make sure to bring a chair and your camera.

  And a new answer: The pastries are delicious, aren't they? A new baker in town makes them. He's from New Orleans. A war veteran. I'll tell him you loved the croissants. Yes, isn't that unusual? A Marine who bakes.

  Once the guests wandered off for the day, and when Nicole arrived to staff the desk, I headed out with my bucket filled with tools, paint brushes, and several spray bottles filled with water. I still had to win this competition.

  Over the years, I'd become an expert, kind of, on what was needed to make the perfect sand sculpture. The judging was two days away, and I needed to actually start working on my final product. I needed to pack the sand firmly into place before etching the fine details into the palm trees.

  All around, competitors contorted themselves while working the sand. One guy from the surf shop had inexplicably brought a ladder. I stifled a grin when I got to my mound of sand and looked over at Leo's station. He was there already, lying on his stomach on the ground.

  I loved seeing how the hard and tough Marine also had an artistic side. And his baking abilities had blown me away. Could he be any more perfect?

  I fumbled and dropped my crate. It landed with a louder thud than I anticipated, the tools jangling and clinking noisily.

  Leo scrambled to his feet and grinned when he saw me. He couldn't stop smiling these days, it seemed. Was he as giddy as I was? And why wasn't he wearing a shirt?

  I felt a wave of heat travel through my body when I recalled how it felt to be next to that rock-hard chest, how he'd clasped me to him when we said goodbye the previous night.

  He walked over, a trowel in those big strong hands, and my heart sped up.

  "So, what are you planning for your sculpture?" he asked. "The practice days are over, and we need to begin carving for real. Are you finally going to tell me?"

  "I guess," I said with mock exasperation, then laughed. We’d teased each other for days over who would win. "An oasis with palm trees. I might add a manatee. Tourists love manatees. You?"

  Leo turned and leaned close, his back pressing into my shoulder so we were both staring at his sand mountain. I could feel the heat of his body through my T-shirt and resisted the urge to throw my arms around him and never let go.

  He used the trowel in one hand an
d his other fingers to gesture in wide, sweeping motions. "I'm imagining a shell printed into the sand. 3D. Like that painting, The Birth of Venus. With a mermaid nestled inside. I decided not to go with the starfish."

  I was sculpting palm trees, and he was planning a Renaissance replica? What kind of overachiever was he? My head found his shoulder, and I gave in to the pleasure of being so near to his warm flesh. He wrapped an arm around my waist, and it felt so perfect.

  "What are you," I said, "the Botticelli of sand sculptors? I never knew you had any artistic talent apart from the kitchen and bedroom."

  He laughed, and when a gust of wind blew a curly wisp of hair over my face, he reached out and tucked it behind my ear. I remembered how he'd done that exact thing when we were teens.

  "It has nothing to do with my talent," he said, "I just have a really beautiful model."

  Chapter 25

  Wetter Than the Ocean

  JESSICA

  His eyes said it all, so I grinned and turned to hug him, pressing my face into the hollow of his neck. Then I bit him lightly, and he growled in response.

  "It's pretty warm," he said. "Want to swim?"

  I opened my mouth to say no, because that was my default answer when it came to displaying my body around others. But why did I need to be so insecure around him? He hadn't hesitated to tell me how much he loved my curves. Why not allow myself a bit of fun?

  I shrugged. I'd worn my tankini over a jean skirt, and swim bottoms that were more like little shorts underneath.

  "Sure. The water will feel good." It might even actually cool me down from all the heat Leo was throwing my way.

  "You're going in fully clothed?" Leo asked, running his hand down my back and onto my butt, squeezing lightly.

  "No, this is my swim top. And I've got swim shorts on underneath my skirt. I'm a Florida girl, remember?"

  He released me from his embrace, and I noticed his eyes lingering on my chest. This navy blue tankini top tucked and squeezed just so, making my breasts look impressively large. I grinned.