Riptide of Romance

by Jennifer Jones

Justice’s breakfast spot turned out to be a trendy food truck overlooking the Pacific Ocean called Nirvana Vegan Experience.

  Justice handed me a vegan breakfast burrito with a sideways smile as he settled into the wooden picnic bench across from me. “One Get Shacked Vegan Special for my one and only wife.”

  I accepted the food and wrinkled my nose. I lifted up the tortilla and inspected the contents. Tofu, bean sprouts, vegan cheese, salsa and something that looked suspiciously like kale. “Since when did you get all into health food?”

  He poured a generous serving of hot sauce onto his own burrito. “If you slather it in this stuff, it tastes better.” He took a bite, swallowed, and smiled. Dang it. I couldn’t look at Justice’s smile without swooning. Stop it, Lola. “To answer your question,” he said, “I’m not strict. Eighty-twenty rule is what I always say. Eat this way most of the time, then the rest of the time I pig out on whatever I want.”

  I lifted the tortilla. “Where’s the beef? I think I’ll stick with my Hungry Man breakfast.”

  Justice took a swig of coffee and placed his hand on mine. “Hey. About last night.”

  I looked away. “What about it?”

  “Was it okay?”

  It was fucking fantastic! “It was fine.”

  His lip curled at the corner, his eyebrows raised. “Fine? First time I’ve been accused of that.”

  “What do you want me to say?” I set my burrito down. “I’m here. You’re here. We sleep in the same freaking bed.” I narrowed my eyes. “First time you’ve been accused … How many women have you slept with?” I waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, just forget it.”

  “Whoa, slow down, babe. I didn’t mean to get all serious.” His tone softened. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “We’re married, right?” I took a deep breath and met his gaze. “This is what married couples do. Might as well enjoy it.”

  “It’s just—”

  I held up a hand. “Save it.” Then I thought I had best go easier on Justice. “Listen, we’re old friends. We fit together.” And the sex was goddamn fantastic. “If we can’t be comfortable together, we won’t win the contest, right?” I gave him my most dazzling smile even though inside I felt crazily conflicted. “Let’s just have fun, okay?”

  “Fun in the sun and income too.”

  I gazed heavenward. “You come up with the stupidest lines.”

  After breakfast, we headed back to the beach parking lot, and Justice put me through the paces of his workout routine. First, he attached elastic workout bands to the van’s door handles. “Come on baby, I want to see you sweat. Pull harder.”

  My muscles burned, and sweat poured off my body. “I’m trying.”

  “Harder!”

  Then he forced me into a grueling sit-up routine as he held my legs. “Fifty more, Lola.”

  We did pushups together. I collapsed after twenty and Justice kept going. “You’re trying to kill me!”

  He grunted as he spoke between repetitions. “Death by workout or death by sex? You pick, babe.”

  I propped myself up on one elbow and watched. Hot damn. Justice’s body was taut, rigid, and sexier than all get out. Sweat dripped off his forehead as his biceps flexed, his chest heaving with deep breaths, his legs pumping up and down, and I envisioned positioning my body underneath his rock-hard frame. Hoo boy. The man was a marble statue. He could be an underwear model or walk the runway for my male swimwear line.

  I squinted my eyes and pictured Justice dressed in a pair of custom briefs with my signature boho look. Maybe something in black and deep purple. I smiled, thinking of how many I’d sell with Justice as my model, his gorgeous hard-on straining against the fabric. Men would want to be him.

  After our sit-ups and pushups, we hit the beach and practiced our tandem lifts: the pinwheel, the knee stand, the shoulder sit, and we worked particularly hard on our high swan.

  Every time Justice lifted me, I had to force myself to concentrate on our workout instead of the feel of his strong hands on my waist, my legs, my ass.

  “Come on, Lola, point your toes harder on the high swan.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Try harder!”

  “You really are going to kill me. Is that your plan? Did you take out a life insurance policy on me?”

  “Quit whining. And make sure you save some strength for casa.” He pronounced the word the Brazilian way with the S sounding like a Z.

  “How do you know Portuguese?”

  “I’m married to you, aren’t I?”

  We grinned at each other and finally, mercifully, the workout was over.

  * * *

  We fell into bed that night, and Justice forced his huge cock into my wet pussy and then bent me over the bed and spanked me so hard I thought I’d end up raw.

  He gripped the back of my head. “Turn around. I want to see your face when I shove my hard dick in your mouth. On your knees Mrs. Hamilton.”

  I loved the possession that Justice took over my body. I loved it when he called me Mrs. Hamilton. But how long could it last? I forced that thought out of my head and enjoyed our lovemaking.

  I gazed over my shoulder, my eyes flashing a warning. “And what if I won’t?”

  He smacked my ass again. “Then you’ll regret it.”

  My pussy grew wet, and I spread my legs. “Fuck me with your fingers.”

  “I call the shots around here. On your knees.”

  “I said … put your fingers in me.” I knew he was waiting for me to sass him because Justice loved the challenge.

  “Oh fuck, Lola. You’re going to be the death of me.” He sank his fingers inside me, and I let out a low moan. “I might have to make you come again. Then you be ready to take my dick in your mouth.” He worked his fingers slowly into my dripping pussy, going straight to my G-spot. “Want me to touch your swollen clit, baby? Is that what you want?” I moaned my agreement. It was amazing what his fingers did to me, and the intensity built fast. “You’re so fucking hot. I love feeling you come.” His fingers worked faster and he sent me over the edge into glorious orgasm, the world blacking out until I collapsed on the bed.

  “Get up and suck it,” he demanded.

  In a haze, I sat on the edge of the bed and gripped his ass as his cock slowly fucked my mouth. When he came, he filled my mouth with squirts of cum so hard it hit the back of my throat. I swallowed every delicious drop.

  We fell asleep that night nuzzled together.

  Don’t get too comfortable, Lola. You’re only here to win the contest.

  Twenty-Two

  Lola

  The following morning, instead of waking up to the strains of the Rocky theme song, I woke up to a call from Mystic Seaweed.

  “Hey, Lola. It’s Charlene. This a good time?”

  I sat up so fast I nearly blacked out. “Yes. Of course. What’s up?” I rubbed sleep out of my eyes and Justice looked at me questioningly.

  “You are not going to believe what I’m about to tell you.”

  I held the phone away and checked the time. Five-thirty in the morning. “Why are you up so early?”

  “Oh, I forgot you’re in California. Sorry about that, it’s already eight-thirty here in New York. Anyway …” Her voice became conspiratorial. “You know that hot shot in-house designer I told you about?” She strung the news out so slowly that I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle her. “She was caught embezzling money.”

  “What!”

  “Sh! Don’t tell anybody, okay? So, here’s the deal. I convinced the design team that all this anorexic stuff for models who never eat more than wheat grass and tofu all day is bullshit. They said they’d take another look at your designs.”

  I bounced up and down in bed, a huge smile on my face and Justice slowly lifted himself on his elbows. “That’s fantastic!”

  “Nothing is certain, but I’ll do my best to push your designs through. Can you email me more sketches toda
y?”

  “Fuck yeah!” I clapped my hand over my mouth. “I mean. Yes.”

  She laughed so hard I thought she’d put something in her morning coffee. “I’ll have an answer soon. Couple days max.”

  We hung up the phone, and I flew out of bed, raced to my laptop, hit the power button, and jumped up and down while I waited for the icons to load.

  Justice stood behind me, rubbing my shoulders, his voice thick with sleep. “Everything okay?”

  I bounced up and down. “Come on, come on, hurry up.”

  Justice pulled on briefs, sat at the little table next to my laptop and gazed at me with sleepy eyes. “You’re awfully excited. Did you just win the lottery?”

  I smiled and crossed my fingers. “Mystic Seaweed’s looking at my designs.” I gripped his biceps and squeezed. “If I get in, it could mean big bucks.” I put my hands in prayer position and gazed skyward. “Please, please, please.”

  “What kind of big bucks?”

  “Ten grand last time we talked.”

  The icons loaded and I quickly maneuvered to my design folder. I opened the folder to show Justice my bohemian designs. I clicked through several renderings of my best designs. Swirly patterns in blues, pinks, and yellows. Fringed suits in lime green, purple, and orange. I even had my version of a “Hello Kitty” suit featuring a likeness of my kitty cat Dexter’s face on the bikini bottom with a girly bow in front.

  “Whoa,” Justice said. “They’re gorgeous.”

  I attached the folder to an email, typed out a note to Charlene, and hit send. I made like I was rolling imaginary dice. “Come on, baby!”

  This was my dream. Working at the bank paid the bills, and I was good at it. Always on time. I worked hard and understood the value of a dollar. But I was a creative at heart.

  Justice stood up to get the coffee started, but then he whirled around and looked at me. He stood over me with a gleam in his eye. “Dang, Lola. This is fantastic. Think you’ll get the deal?”

  I crossed my fingers tightly. “Fingers crossed.” My stomach gurgled with anticipation. “This could be my big break.”

  He gave me a knowing grin. “Mystic Seaweed’s top of their game in surf wear. They’d be crazy not to buy your designs. So, when’ll you know?”

  “Couple days at the most.”

  He threw his arms out in an expansive gesture. “Tide’s turning, babe.” He lifted up on his toes as he emphasized his words. “You are going to be a star!”

  My face flushed with happiness and I wanted to jump up and hug him.

  “You sit and I’ll bring your coffee.” He extracted two mugs from the kitchenette and placed one in front of me with a flourish. “One black coffee and two spoons of sugar coming up.” He kissed me loudly right on the cheek and bounced back into the kitchen whistling a happy tune. “Can’t wait to see those suits on the catwalk!”

  I looked down at myself and laughed. In all my excitement I was still naked. I got up to pull on panties and a T-shirt.

  The coffee machine gurgled, and the aroma wafted into my nostrils. Justice busied himself with the brew, and I allowed myself to enjoy the fantasy of the two of us playing house. I sidled up behind Justice and snuggled my arms around him pressing my breasts into his back inhaling his scent. My voice was hoarse. “Thanks for being my number one fan.”

  He spun around, and his lips were on mine in a tender kiss. “I’ll always be that to you, Lola.”

  We smiled at each other. “We’re going to win the contest,” I said.

  “Damn right we are.”

  The coffee pot hissed its readiness and Justice filled our mugs.

  We sat at the table, held up our cups and clinked glasses. “To another kick-ass day of training,” I said.

  Twenty-Three

  Justice

  We drove down the Pacific Coast Highway, the ocean booming in the background, Lola’s feet up on the dash. After about twenty minutes, we caught sight of Devin’s caravan.

  First came Devin’s shiny black Cadillac Escalade pulling his polished silver Airstream. Behind that, the procession continued with two giant RVs.

  In living color, the sides of both RVs were splashed with the bold proclamation: Stonebreaker Development.

  But the worst part was the larger than life photo of Devin’s smiling mug staring at anyone unlucky enough to whizz past the RVs, a smirk on his face. Underneath his likeness, it said: Bringing You The Finest In Urban Redevelopment.

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Lola sat up and stared. “Jesus Cristo! Can his head be any bigger?”

  “Must’ve been too dark to see it the other night,” I muttered.

  I sped up to move alongside the Escalade and peered at the driver, none other than Devin himself. “You mean he doesn’t have a fancy chauffeur?”

  “The guy’s a control freak.”

  He caught my eye, smiled hugely, gave a happy wave and a long blast of the horn.

  I floored it, adrenaline surging through my system. “Let’s get the hell out of here and surf.”

  But when we pulled into the parking lot of the surf beach, Devin’s caravan screeched in behind us.

  I jerked the van to a stop and leaned forward over the steering wheel, my body rigid. “So help me God, if that guy says one thing to piss me off—”

  Lola placed her hand on my arm. “Take a deep breath. We’ll handle it.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Come on. Let’s get suited up.”

  Devin’s monster vehicles filed in one after the other and came to an impressive stop, like jet planes cruising onto a runway.

  I yanked my wetsuit out of the van, all the while eyeing the vehicles. Devin and Kristin hopped out of the Escalade and entered their luxury Airstream. He took his sweet time and finally emerged with a steaming mug of coffee. “Top o’ the morning,” he yelled from across the parking lot.

  Kristin came out of the rig next, wearing a pair of leggings and a slouchy oversized T-shirt. The outfit looked casual, but something about it made me think it cost a fortune. She waved, smiled, and trotted to where Lola and I stood. “Hey there. I meant to tell you the other night.” She screwed her face up. “But hey, congratulations. Devin told me you tied the knot.”

  Devin swaggered to Kristin’s side. “Awfully cute couple.”

  I placed a protective arm around Lola and kissed her on the cheek. “That’s right. Lola’s the love of my life. We always knew we’d get married one day.”

  Devin’s eyes were slits. “Awfully convenient that you’re married just in time for the contest.” He handed his coffee mug to Kristin so he could stretch and flex. As we stood there in the chilly ocean morning, the rest of Devin’s entourage spilled out of their RVs.

  The gas guzzlers looked like cloning machines as one by one Devin’s hired help appeared. I counted eight people—five men and three women. They all wore uniforms—white pants in some type of expensive looking fabric and teal polo shirts with the proclamation Stonebreaker Development in large print.

  I gawked in annoyance as one set up a folding table and spread out a white tablecloth, another erected a massage table, and a third set up a god damn gym complete with bench press and free weights. Two of the staff went to work setting up an E-Z UP for sun protection.

  Devin called over his shoulder, “Horatio! Make sure you get footage of everything.” The skinny dude snapped to attention with a salute and jogged across the parking lot. He got into position, and his video camera panned the landscape. “Not the hills and scrub brush you idiot. Close up on the star, please.”

  “Yes sir, Mr. Stonebreaker.” The man adjusted his camera for a close-up of Devin. Could the man be any more vain?

  Kristin laid a hand on Devin’s arm. “Are you sure we really need all this? I think it’s a bit much.”

  Devin ignored his wife and addressed the cameraman. “Make sure you get my good side.”

  Finally, he held up a hand to the cameraman. “Enough.” He regarded me with a sacchari
ne smile. “I’ll be featured on YouTube and Instagram. Oh, and one of my staff blogs about our progress.”

  He looked at Lola. “Hope you’re enjoying your honeymoon.” He made a bowing motion. “And thank you for crossing all the I’s and dotting all the T’s on my acquisition of the shop. It’s the last holdout in the redevelopment plan, and I am not letting this deal slip through my fingers. I’m up for a big redevelopment award this year.” His gaze took a greedy tour of Lola’s figure, and I wanted to slap him. Stop ogling her, you creep.

  I ground my teeth and counted to ten. “Come on, Lola. We’ve got a contest to win.”

  One of Devin’s minions appeared with a custom tandem board. “Shall I prepare your board, Mr. Stonebreaker?”

  Lola and I changed into our wetsuits, waxed our board, and hit the lineup. I took deep breaths and forced myself to relax. The ocean always calmed me but today would be the ultimate test.

  We caught a few waves, and I thought things were going pretty fucking great when Devin and Kristin paddled out. His strong arms dug into the water with confident strides.

  Devin had always been one of the best surfers in the lineup when we were teenagers. I didn’t want to admit this even to myself, but Devin was a fantastic athlete. I hadn’t surfed with Devin in many years, but it looked like he wasn’t lying. He’d apparently kept up the sport, and he and Kristin were sensational on the tandem board.

  Lola and I sat on our board, the cold water sloshing around our legs as Devin and Kristin caught a perfect head-high wave. “Damn,” I said. “Check out their high swan.” Devin held Kristin above his head and she spread her arms out gracefully, her back arched, toes pointed, and a lovely smile on her face.

  Lola sat in front of me, and I breathed into her ear. “Let’s go for a front angel.” This was an intermediate move that I knew we’d nail. When the next wave came through, I picked Lola up and hoisted her over my head, gripping her by the pelvis and leg while she spread her arms out gracefully. Yes! I know I had a smile on my face because we felt so in sync.

  We finished our lift, I helped Lola down, stalled the board, and began the paddle back out to the lineup.