Bayside Heat (Bayside Summers Book 3)
Page 23
She ran her finger along the chocolate on her dress and touched it to Hagen’s nose, earning silly giggles. “I wonder if you can convince Uncle Drake to make me one, too? I think chocolate will go a long way tonight.”
“Uncle Drake, will you make her a s’more?” Hagen ran to Drake as he approached and tugged on Drake’s shirt.
Drake reached down and patted Hagen’s head. “I’ll make her anything she wants, buddy.”
“Hey, gorgeous.” Drake reached for her hand, pulling her against him and kissing her smiling lips. “I didn’t expect you tonight.”
“I couldn’t stay away,” she said honestly. After watching the video again, all she’d wanted was to be in his arms.
“You blew me away today, Supergirl. I want to hear all about your day.”
He kissed her again, and all she could think about was how he blew her away every day with his endless patience and encouragement.
Drake looked down at her chest pressed against his sternum. “I’m getting marshmallow in your chocolate.”
She lowered her voice and said, “Careful. If you get any on my skin, you might have to lick it off.”
Heat flared in his eyes. “Hagen,” he said without taking his eyes off Serena. “Let’s get busy melting those marshmallows. Uncle Drake has an insatiable appetite. We might need to use the whole bag.”
Chapter Eighteen
DRAKE AWOKE TO Serena’s soft lips kissing their way down his stomach. He didn’t even try to suppress his smile as he threaded his fingers into her hair, loving the feel of it—and her hot mouth—against his skin. He’d wanted to take her home the minute he’d seen her beautiful face appear in the darkness last night, but they’d stayed at the bonfire catching up with the others for almost an hour before they’d finally turned in.
She pressed her lips to the head of his cock. He groaned as she continued kissing and licking his hard length. She was the most sensual, honest, enticing woman he’d ever met, and every evening without her was torture. Not because he needed sex, but because his life was not complete without her by his side.
“God, baby. You feel so good.”
She buried his cock in her mouth, following her lips with tight strokes of her hand, obliterating his thoughts. His hips rocked as she took him right up to the edge of madness.
“Baby, I’m gonna lose it,” he warned, gritting his teeth against the mounting pressure.
She withdrew his shaft from her mouth, watching him as she dragged her tongue from base to tip. Spikes of heat skidded through him.
“Not yet, you’re not,” she said haughtily.
She straddled him in all her naked glory and sank slowly down over his shaft, burying him in her tight heat. He pulled her down for a kiss, and she turned, guiding her breast into his mouth instead. Fuck, he loved her confidence. She liked it a little rough sometimes, and he was right there with her, teasing and sucking as they loved each other wild. When that wasn’t enough, he held on tight and swept her beneath him, driving in deeper.
“Hold my wrists,” she begged, sparking all sorts of deliciousness inside him.
As his fingers circled her wrists, pleasure and passion brimmed in her eyes, so different from the joy that had radiated off her when he’d seen her in her office. That happiness had driven him to toy with the idea of buying the guitar store that was going out of business in Boston. Leaving the Cape had never been in his plans, but as he’d come to realize, neither had a life without Serena.
“I love you, Supergirl,” he said vehemently. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember.”
“A big YouTube star like you?” A rascally look rose in her eyes. “I bet you say that to all the fangirls.”
“Only the really special one who loved me before I was famous.”
The emotions in her eyes told him how she felt before she said another word. But when she said, “I loved you when you were a skinny teenager carrying around a beat-up guitar and too cool to like me back,” sweetly and honestly, he got all choked up.
“I was never too cool for you. You’ve always been out of my league.” He pressed his lips to hers, then said, “And just so we’re clear, sass-mouth, other than family, you’re the only woman I’ve ever said those three words to.”
He lowered his lips to hers as they found the groove that bound them together. Their passion mounted, their kisses turning possessive and rough. He released her wrists with the need to be closer and cradled her in his arms.
“No,” she pleaded. “Keep holding tight.”
He snagged her lace bra from the floor where they’d thrown it last night and wound it around her wrists, binding them tightly. He pressed his hands to her arms, pinning them above her head.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Supergirl.”
Wickedness danced in her eyes as he reclaimed her mouth, more demanding this time. Her softness conformed to his hard frame as her legs circled his body, meeting each thrust with a rock of her hips and a lustful moan. He quickened his pace, and she struggled against his hold. One flash of her eyes told him she was enjoying it as much as he was. Her muscles tensed and her breathing shallowed as her climax took hold. Her body pulsed and thrummed around him, drawing him right to the brink of madness. He needed her arms around him, wanted to feel her nails digging into his skin. He unbound her wrists, and she clawed at his back, bowing up beneath him with every thrust.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she cried out.
He crushed his mouth to hers, loving her through every pulse and quiver of her climax.
“Open your eyes, Supergirl.”
Her eyes flew open, filled with darkness so alluring, so lustful, his mouth watered.
Her words shot out like a command. “Take me harder, rock star.”
“I’m going to take you every which way I can.” With his eyes locked on hers and his fingers curled tightly around her hips, he said, “Turn over.”
She rolled onto her belly, his every fantasy come true. The woman he loved, every gorgeous curve his for the taking. He ran his hands up her outer thighs, kissing each cheek as his thumbs grazed her slick center.
“So trusting,” he whispered as he pressed kisses to the base of her spine all the way down to curve of her bottom. Then he spread her cheeks and dragged his tongue along her wetness. “So sweet.”
He nudged her thighs open wider, giving him better access, and taunted her with his mouth, then tasted his way up her soft bottom. She squirmed and whimpered, spreading her legs wider. He dipped his fingers into her swollen sex, then withdrew and used his tongue. She pushed her ass back, greedily seeking more, and when he brought his slick fingers to her forbidden entrance, she stilled.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going to cross any lines you don’t want me to.”
She pushed up onto her hands and knees, gazing at him over her shoulders. “I want you to cross them all.”
His words played in his head—you’re the only woman I’ve ever said those three words to—and he knew she’d also be the last.
A LONG WHILE later, they stumbled, sated and more in love than ever, over to Emery and Dean’s for breakfast.
“I still can’t believe Emery wanted to host breakfast,” Serena said in a hushed whisper as they neared Dean and Emery’s cottage. Emery wasn’t teaching yoga that morning and had announced at the bonfire last night that they were hosting breakfast today. “She can’t boil water without setting off the smoke alarm.”
It was almost the truth. Emery had set off the fire alarm at her and Dean’s cottage twice over the winter. The first time she’d forgotten to put water in the pot and burned it while taking a bath. But the second time, from what Dean had claimed, it was just as much his fault as Emery’s. He’d found her in the kitchen wearing only her panties while she was cooking eggs, and they’d ended up in the bedroom for a very long time.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’d never let you go hungry. I’ve got about nine inches of man meat for you.”
Drake pulled Serena closer,
kissing her bare shoulder. He loved this particular sleeveless sundress. It was black-and-white and pattered like a bandanna. The top fit like a tube top from the eighties, clinging to her, while the rest was loose and short. She looked like she belonged on the beach, which was his favorite place to observe her. She was a beach girl at heart, and as he pondered that thought, he realized she hadn’t been out on the water in a while.
“That doesn’t fill me up,” she said. “It only makes me hungrier for real food.”
He leaned down and kissed her.
“Hey, lovebugs,” Desiree called from behind them.
They turned and greeted Desiree, Rick, and Violet. Desiree and Rick looked beyond happy, holding hands and smiling. Desiree’s hair was pinned up in a ponytail.
“Don’t you mean hump bunnies?” Violet smirked. Her raven hair was wild and loose around her shoulders. She wore her typical summer duds, one of her many black bikini tops and a black miniskirt, along with her biker boots, of course.
“Violet!” Desiree chastised. “Why do you always have to make something nice sound dirty?”
“Who says dirty isn’t nice?” Violet shot back.
“I’m with Vi on this one. Sorry, Des,” Serena said as they stepped onto Dean and Emery’s patio.
“Hey, are we still planning to go tubing after the wedding tasting a week from Saturday?” Drake asked, thinking about getting Serena back out on the water.
“Yes,” Rick said.
“We’ll need it after all the wedding gushing I’ll have to listen to,” Violet added.
Dean came outside carrying a tray of bowls. “How’s it going?” His hair was sticking up all over, he was shirtless, and he had a big red hickey on his shoulder.
Emery followed him out, looking flushed and carrying several boxes of cereal. “This is the last time we host,” she said a little breathlessly. She dropped the cereal boxes on the table, set her hands on her hips, and said, “Hosting breakfast is way too much pressure.”
Drake squeezed Serena’s hand. “Maybe my girlfriend should give you a lesson in planning.” He still couldn’t believe she’d not only set up the store and their usual grand opening while living hundreds of miles away, but she’d managed to book one of the biggest rock stars around and had kept it a secret.
“Yeah, here’s a hint. Don’t give up sex to feed other people.” Serena looked around nervously. “Oh geez. For a second I forgot Matt and Mira were taking Hagen to the go-karts today. She has given me strict orders never to talk about our sex life around her.”
They all laughed and began pouring cereal into their bowls.
“Why don’t you two go finish your fuckery and get cleaned up,” Violet said to Emery and Dean, who were standing at the other end of the table, kissing and whispering. As they disappeared into the house, Violet turned her attention to Serena. “What you did for Drake was beyond kick-ass. I’m sorry you missed it.”
“You’ve been there for everything big in his life,” Rick said. “It stinks that you couldn’t be there.”
“Tell me about it.” Serena poured milk into her cereal and pushed it around in her bowl. “But what really matters is that he got to experience it. Thanks again for all your help, for keeping the secret, and for all the pictures and the video. It wouldn’t have gone over so well without your help.”
“Listen, what’s a small-town girl to do when things get tough and you’re working hard to get your fill. Don’t stop believin’, right?” Rick chuckled.
“Absolutely,” Violet said. “You’ve got to hold on to that feeling.”
“Otherwise it just goes on and on,” Desiree chimed in with a pleased-with-herself sparkle in her eyes.
Drake laughed. “All right. I get it.”
Serena belted out the chorus to “Don’t Stop Believin’,” and they all joined in. Drake scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to hide his amusement. He was so in love with her, and every playful thing she did made him fall even harder.
Desiree rushed over and pushed a napkin in front of Drake, fluttering her lashes, and spoke in the breathy voice of a teenager. “Can I get your autograph, Mr. Rock Star?”
“You guys are fools,” Drake said goodheartedly.
Desiree hugged him. “Fools who love you, best soon-to-be-brother-in-law in the world.” She went around the table hugging each of them. When she got to Violet, Violet rolled her eyes. “One day you’re going to be the hugger and I’ll be the huggee.”
“Don’t hold your breath. It’s going to take a long time for me to get over you bringing Mom out for your wedding.” Violet shoved a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.
“You heard back from her?” Serena asked. “She’s coming?”
Desiree gave her a deadpan look. “Just because she sent a postcard that said she’d be there doesn’t mean she won’t forget by the date of the wedding. I’m not getting my hopes up.” Their mother, Lizza Vancroft, was as flighty as a seagull.
“I really hope she comes,” Serena said. “Mostly because it means she’s still making an effort. You deserve that, Des. But also because it’ll be fun to see Violet get all edgy and uncomfortable when she can’t take part in any fuckery.”
Violet scoffed. “Lizza is the queen of fuckery. Where do you think I learned it?”
“Well, people can change,” Serena said. “Remember, don’t ever stop believing…”
Everyone burst into song, and Drake couldn’t help but join in, too.
After Drake was called a teen heartthrob far too many times, he and Serena went to the Wellfleet Flea Market to see Leanna so Serena could thank her for lending them her van. Leanna made Luscious Leanna’s Sweet Treats jams and sold them at the flea market and in restaurants and stores. The flea market was held in the parking lot of the drive-in theater, hosting vendors from all over, selling antiques, clothing, jewelry, video games, and just about everything else under the sun.
They walked hand in hand through rows of white vendor tents. It was a scorcher of an afternoon. The type of blistering heat that radiated off the pavement and reeked with humidity. If Serena didn’t have to leave soon, he’d take her out on the boat for the day, make love to her in the afternoon sun, and dip in the water to cool off. One day soon…
Serena stopped to look at a pair of earrings. “Chloe’s birthday is coming up. She loves opals.”
Drake just loved watching her do anything, which was seriously ridiculous, but as true as anything had ever been. He looked over the necklaces and found a pretty opal. “How about this with those earrings? From both of us?”
“You have good taste, rock star. But then again, you’re with me, so…” She glanced up at him and said, “We already knew how good your taste was.”
He tickled her ribs. She squealed and tried to get away, but he hauled her in and kissed her fiercely. “I love you, you pesty thing.”
“You chose me. What does that say about you?”
“That I have incredible taste.”
She grinned. “Isn’t that how this all started?”
They bought the earrings and the necklace and moved on to a display of used paperbacks. Serena held up a thriller by Leanna’s husband, Kurt Remington. “Look what I found.” She opened it to the dedication and read it aloud. “For my sweet Leanna and my precious Sloan. You are my treasures.” Sloan was their little boy.
She set the book down and gazed up at Drake. “His treasures. That’s so romantic. But I prefer being your Supergirl. That has always felt romantic to me.”
He pressed his lips to hers and then he took her hand and they continued down the row. “Want to know a secret?”
“Always. Secrets are sexy.”
He looked at her out of the corner of his narrowing eyes.
“What? They are. Think about it. Secrets are things you tell only to very special people. That alone makes them sexy.”
“I guess you’re right, because this one is about my sexy girl. I used to wonder what it would be like to bring you to the drive-in. I’d pict
ure the normal stuff, you know, making out in the back seat and all that. But because I was wicked jealous of every guy I heard about you going out with—”
“What? Even when we were younger?”
“Damn right.”
She pressed her body against his side and kissed his cheek. “I love knowing that about you. Tell me more.”
“It was torture, and even worse now that you’re grown up. Anyway, I thought about how proud I’d feel to strut around here with you on my arm, making all the other guys jealous. Like I am now.”
“You see me differently than anyone else does. I doubt any guys are looking at me that way.” She pointed to an older man with a protruding belly, sitting in a lawn chair beside a table of antiques. “Except maybe him.” She waved to the man, and he nodded.
“Right.” Drake turned her by the shoulders and said, “Ten o’clock, dark-haired guy stealing glances, and just beyond him, that bald guy was checking you out the last two times we stopped walking.”
“The dark-haired guy isn’t bad,” she said playfully.
He pulled her against him, glaring at her even though he knew she was kidding.
“Kiss me, you proud peacock. Claim your woman.”
And he did.
Ravenously.
They finally found Leanna’s booth, where she was surrounded by a crowd of customers who were tasting and buying jams. Leanna talked animatedly to each person, spouting off ingredients and flavors. She was perhaps the messiest person Drake knew, and also one of the sweetest. She was always in a constant state of disarray, with jam on her clothes and tousled hair, while her husband was the neatest, most organized man on the planet.
“Hey, you two!” Leanna finished helping the customers, then came around and hugged them both. “Oh gosh. Sorry.” She tried to wipe jam off Drake’s sleeve, where she’d accidentally smeared it.
“No worries. Hagen got me worse last night,” Drake assured her. “How are you?”