Bad Boy Summer (Bad Boys on Holiday Book 5)

by Sylvia Pierce

  “So what the fuck are you doing there?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Not yet. But I’m working on a plan.”

  Ash smiled, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Of course you are. Does it involve Post-its?”

  “Maybe.”

  What he really wanted to ask her was whether it involved moving back to California. Back here, close to him. His heart kicked up a notch at the thought, but he quickly beat that shit back into submission.

  “You’ll figure it out,” he said. “You always do.”

  “I guess.” She smiled, but again, her thoughts were scattered to the wind.

  Ash didn’t know what else to say, so he cupped her cheeks, pulled her in for another kiss. Didn’t take much for her to get him hard again, but before things got out of control, she pulled back, shaking her head.

  “I need to take a rain check tonight,” she whispered, stroking her thumb across his lips. “There’s something I have to do, and it can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  “Can it wait ten minutes?”

  “Right.” Pam gave him a wry smile. “Since when do you do anything in ten minutes?”

  She had him there.

  “Not my fault you’re fucking delicious.” He brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them one at a time. “Can’t blame me for wanting to savor you, Deeds.”

  “I don’t blame you. But I do have to leave you.” She leaned in and kissed him once more on the mouth, and then climbed out of his lap, trailing her fingers over his bare shoulder. “Just for tonight, though. Tomorrow night? I’m all yours.”

  “Okay, but I can’t be held responsible if some wandering beach woman snaps me up in the mean time.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll kick her ass.” Pam laughed as she slipped back inside the house and padded away down the hall, leaving Ash alone on the deck. He grabbed his beer and watched her go, the night air feeling a hell of a lot colder than it had a minute earlier.

  Ash tipped the beer back and closed his eyes, trying to numb the ache in his chest. No use. It was like a black hole, one that only seemed to get bigger with each passing day. One day, he was liable to get sucked right into it.

  No matter what happened between them this summer, no matter what momentary peace he’d felt at dinner, one simple truth would haunt him for the rest of his life: For Ash, Pam Diederman was the one that got away. The one that kept getting away.

  And you just let her go, asshole. Every fucking time.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Pam had already flipped through the photos so many times, they were covered in fingerprints. Normally the smudges would’ve driven her nuts, but now, sitting at her desk at two in the morning with her laptop on one side and the photos on the other, they felt important, like touchstones marking a big turning point in her life.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d found that old photo place again, that they were still set up to develop film, that the expired film had worked, that she’d even found the camera again in the first place. From the moment she stepped off the plane at John Wayne airport, it was as if everything in her life was nudging her in this direction, back to the thing she’d most loved. The thing that had once brought her the most joy.

  There was nothing quite like the anticipation of picking up an envelope full of photos, no idea how they’d turn out, who might turn up in the stack. It was something she’d always loved about using a film camera—the surprise that came along with it. Unlike with digital or cell phone cameras, there was no double-checking the shot, reframing and re-posing until you got it right. There was one chance, and then the moment was gone.

  It felt a lot like life.

  When she’d opened up that envelope with Liz and Ash tonight, the feeling in her chest was pure elation. Excitement. Happiness. The kind that comes from finding your way back to something you’d long ago thought lost.

  No matter how hard she’d been trying to convince herself otherwise, finance didn’t give her that feeling. Not even close. She’d been living a shadow life—a life she’d created solely as a reaction to her mother’s mistakes.

  Pam could count on one hand the number of times she’d taken a leap of faith in her life: zero. Everything she did—career moves, her studies, the colleagues she aligned herself with at work, where she lived, even what she bought at the grocery store—was the result of careful analysis and prediction and planning. She’d thought that by making a plan and sticking to it, she could insulate herself from life’s crushing blows. But Ash had been right—all those rules and regulations hadn’t done anything but keep her in a box.

  Pam didn’t want to live in the shadows anymore. She wanted to live in the light. In her own light, her own joy. Her own perfectly imperfect path. From that first day with the camera, through all that time she’d spent snapping shots on the beach, to tonight when she’d shared her photos with her friends, to when they’d come upon that beautiful picture of Mrs. Burke, to when she’d poured her heart out to Ash on the deck, Pam had been following that imperfect path, even without realizing it.

  Now, she was ready to accept it fully. To shine the light in front of her and take that big leap of faith.

  With butterflies in her stomach, she fired up her laptop and logged into her email, taking a deep breath as she typed her advisor’s email address. But this time, there was no stress, no drama as she typed her missive.

  Just relief.

  Mr. Ferguson:

  After much consideration, I am hereby withdrawing my candidacy from the joint Master of Science and Master of Business Administration program. I will contact you when I return to New York next week so that we can discuss the details and complete the necessary exit procedures. Please note that I will not be checking email again until that time.

  Thank you for your support and understanding.

  Sincerely,

  Pamela Diederman

  Pam hit the send button without a second thought. No need—she’d said exactly what she meant.

  Closing her laptop, she took a deep breath of salty ocean air, letting the gravity of her situation settle in.

  For the first time in her life, she was a woman without a plan.

  And surprisingly, it didn’t feel like stress and anxiety and panic—all of the things she’d begun to associate with her former career path.

  It felt like freedom.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A storm was blowing up out on the ocean, which Ash thought was pretty fucking perfect, all things considered. Inside his gut, he felt the same rage simmering just below the surface, looking for a reason to bust free.

  He was losing his girl, all over again. There was no other way to look at it.

  That plan she was working on last night? Ash had let it go to his head after all. Got some stupid-ass idea that maybe—just maybe—she’d find a way to stay in California after all. All night he’d chewed on it, and by dawn, that damn idea had taken root and bloomed like a weed, impossible to kill.

  But this morning, just after Liz headed out with Luke, he’d brought Pam breakfast in bed, hoping to surprise her with French toast and a little morning sex. Instead, he’d gotten the surprise. Found her bags mostly packed up and stacked near the end of the bed, everything ready for her flight the next morning.

  Total bullshit, but what could he say? Thought a few weeks of hot sex was enough to make you fall for me? Plan your whole fucking life around me—a drifter with no permanent address? Right.

  So he’d swallowed it down, woken her up with a kiss, fed her that fucking French toast and strawberries one bite at a time, all the while wishing it was for real. Forever.

  And all the while realizing that no matter what he wanted, he wasn’t good for her. Whether she was going back to New York to continue her long climb up the corporate ladder, or getting her ass back into photography, she was still heading back to New York. He wouldn’t screw with her life, not even for a minute. Not even
to mend his own broken-ass heart.

  “That,” Pam said now, reaching for him across the breakfast tray in her bed, “was amazing.”

  Ash allowed her to pull him into a kiss, losing himself for a minute in the sweet, maple syrup taste of her mouth. She moaned softly, parting her wet lips and sliding her hands into his hair. It was like the woman had the launch code for his dick, and no matter how badly he tried to hold back, he was fucking hard as hell, straining against his sweats.

  When she finally pulled back from the kiss, her face was flush, her blue eyes sparkling like the ocean. She looked so happy right now. So fucking full of life.

  “What’s got you so full of sunshine today?” he asked, moving the breakfast tray to the nightstand so he could get a little closer to her. Back in bed, he stretched out beside her, and she snuggled up against him, resting her head on his chest. “You haven’t even had your coffee yet.”

  “An oversight on the part of the chef, but since the food was so good, I’ll let it slide.” She traced her fingers lightly across his bare stomach, just above the waistband of his sweats, sending chills up and down his spine. “Anyway,” she continued, “storm outside, breakfast in bed delivered by a hot guy… What’s not to smile about? I mean, honestly. A girl could get used to this.”

  So could I…

  Outside, lightning arced suddenly across the sky, chased by a thunderous boom that shook the windows. She snuggled closer against his chest and sighed.

  “I don’t know,” he said, trying to keep things light despite the hollow ache in his gut. “Dangerous to fly in this weather. Maybe you should stay a few more days, just to be safe.”

  “Hmm.” She slid her hand over his dick, palming him through the sweatpants. “Something tells me you have ulterior motives that have nothing to do with my safety.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  In response, Pam flashed him a wicked grin, then pressed her lips to his chest, hooking her fingers into the elastic of his sweats. She kissed his abs, his stomach, sliding the pants down over his hips until his dick sprang free, thick and hard, his balls heavy.

  Pam settled between his legs, fisting the base of his cock, her tongue sliding out from between those lush pink lips, brushing the tip just enough to drive him mad.

  “Fuck,” he moaned, sliding his fingers into her curls. “That’s… fuck.”

  Pam swirled her tongue around the tip, stroking him with her fist, opening her mouth to slowly take him in, inch by agonizing inch. She was hot and wet and soft, her lips tight around him.

  “That’s it,” he said, guiding her closer. “Just like that.”

  Pam moaned and took him in deeper, the sound vibrating across his sensitive skin, her velvet-soft tongue sliding over his flesh. Ash’s fingers tangled into her hair, his hips rocking as she found her rhythm, stroking and licking and sucking until he was absolutely powerless.

  Ash’s head lolled back against the pillow, eyes shut tight she fucked him with her hot little mouth. Pam let out a soft sigh, her silky hair tickling his thighs, her breath hot on his balls, her lips and tongue stroking his flesh, urging him closer and closer to the edge, harder, deeper, faster, the storm raging on outside, rain lashing against the window, and when he finally opened his eyes and saw her watching him with those devious blue eyes…

  “Oh, fuck! Pamela!” His balls tightened, and he grabbed her head, exploding in a hot torrent as she took him all the way in, sucking him hard, then soft, taking all of it until he was shaking and spent and totally fucking gone.

  Resting her cheek against his thigh, Pam ran her fingers lightly over his stomach again, giving him time to come back to earth. Didn’t take long—she had some crazy effect on him, and it wasn’t long before his dick stirred again, ready for more.

  “You’re insatiable.” She laughed, sitting up next to him.

  She was still in her sleep shirt and panties, a look Ash had memorized and stored in the archives for years of fucking fantasies to come, but now he needed those clothes to be gone. He needed to feel her, nothing between them. He needed to bury himself between her thighs, forget about everything else.

  “You need to be naked,” he said. “Now.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” She grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it up over her head, flinging it across the room. She straddled him on the bed, leaning forward to kiss him, her nipples brushing against his chest.

  Fuck. He ached to be inside her. Right fucking now.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows. She was looking at him with those wide, blue eyes, her lips swollen from sucking him, her cheeks pink, her hair a tangled mess.

  And then she smiled. Soft, gentle, almost tentative.

  Without warning, his heart seized up, then cracked, right down the fucking middle.

  Holy shit. I’m so fucking in love with you, it hurts…

  “Ash,” Pam whispered, running her thumb along his cheek. Her eyebrows drew together in concern. “Hey. Where are you?”

  It took him a few seconds to realize what she’d said. What he needed to say back. Shaking his head, he forced a smile. “I’m right here, beautiful. Right here.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, but when he kissed her, she was still.

  Pushing him away gently, Pam shook her head. “No. You’re not. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said, pressing his lips together.

  Pam sighed.

  “I’m here,” he said. “I’m good.”

  Pam wasn’t buying it. “Something’s up with you. One minute you’re fine, and then you’re off in outer space.”

  “I said I’m—”

  “And don’t tell me you’re fine, because you totally pressed your lips together, and that—”

  “I didn’t. I’m—”

  “Ash, will you just—”

  “Deeds—”

  “You can’t just—”

  “Deeds!” He grabbed her chin, leaning in close and grazing her bottom lip with his teeth. “Stop talking.”

  He didn’t want to talk. Talking led to thinking, thinking led to obsessing, and all of that shit was liable to lead to heartbreak. He lowered his mouth to hers again to silence her, to taste her, to take as much of her as he could before she left.

  Pam relented, melting against his lips, threading her hands into his hair, pulling him closer, closer, closer still.

  He was drowning in that kiss, in her scent, in the silky feel of her skin. But no matter how hard he tried to get out of his head, he couldn’t fucking do it. All those thoughts he’d been trying so hard to ignore showed up anyway, one right after the other, crashing and banging inside his skull.

  He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t keep kissing her, touching her, making love to her knowing that it was all coming to an end. Maybe three weeks ago, but not now. Best he could hope for now was a fast goodbye, rip off the Band-Aid, hopefully keep his heart in one damn piece.

  Ash pulled away, shaking his head.

  “Ash?”

  “Forget it, Deeds,” he whispered, not even trusting his own voice. “Sorry. I gotta go.”

  He climbed out of the bed, tugged his sweats back on, and went to the window, turning his back on her. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t see those big blue eyes full of confusion. Hurt.

  His heart felt like a grenade with the pin yanked out, and there was nowhere to run, nowhere to find cover. All Ash could do was stand there and wait for the fucking thing to explode.

  Out in the field, they’d trained him how to compartmentalize. How to take all that shit that kept you up at night, that made you cry like a fucking baby, that made you contemplate eating the end of your rifle on a nightly basis, and lock it down. Tight. Deep. Impossible to crack.

  That strategy had kept him alive. Kept him sane. Kept him breathing, no matter how many times he’d been certain there was no way out, certain his number was up.

  But it was no way to live in the real world. He f
ucking knew it, but still, he felt himself shutting down. Falling into that old pattern. Locking her down and locking her out. Self-preservation at its finest.

  Pam didn’t deserve that shit. She deserved a man who could keep it together, be strong for her. A man who would let her in, one hundred fucking percent. A man who would stand by her side, no matter what—even if they couldn’t be together the way he wanted.

  He was no fucking good for her. It’d never been more obvious than right fucking now.

  Much as it ripped his heart out, Ash knew he had to let her go. Let her get back to her life. Back to her future and her grand plans and all the things in life she wanted and deserved.

  Just outside the bedroom window, the gray ocean roiled and churned, the wind whipping the waves into frothy whitecaps. Ash stared out there, looking out as far as he could see, wondering if there was anyone on the other side looking back at him.

  “You know what?” Ash forced the words out over the lump in his throat. “Maybe it’s just best we say our goodbyes right now.”

  “What are you talking about? We still have another day. And I—”

  “We had fun this summer, but—”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “You don’t get to pull this shit with me, Asher Burke. Not again.”

  He finally turned away from the window. She was already out of bed, standing in front of him in her underwear, arms crossed over her chest.

  “You have a life, Pam. Your work. School. You haven’t even finished that paper.” Ash scrubbed a hand across his mouth, as if that could erase the taste of her. As if it could make him any less of an asshole for what he was about to say. “Look, you’re amazing. You and I go way back, and I’m real glad we hooked up again this summer. But you don’t need to be getting any more attached to me than you already are. Okay?”

  The words were sour in his mouth, and he waited for her to freak out, to cry, to slap him. But Pam just rolled her eyes, clearly not taking the bait.