“Mmmm.” You sigh and he flicks your lobe with his tongue before kissing a trail to your mouth.
“I’ve got an idea,” he murmurs.
“Oh, what’s that?” You still can’t look away from him when he looks at you like that. His blue eyes lock you into his gaze every single time.
“You’ll see.” He starts to swim away. “Follow me.”
A little bit of disappointment washes over you, but you follow his lead and are soon walking out onto the sandy shoreline.
“Remember when you said you were hot?”
“Sure,” you answer absentmindedly. All you can really think about is how his thick cock, fully hard, is swinging like a pendulum, enticing you. Exciting you.
“I think this will cool you down.” He suddenly turns and lifts you off your feet. He carries you to the waterfall as you cry out for mercy, knowing from experience just how cold that water is. When he walks under it, you swear it must be pouring down off a glacier somewhere. But George doesn’t hold you under nature’s shower for long. Instead, he walks right through it to the cool, black rocks behind the water. They’re smoothed down from millions of years of water pouring over them. And they’re a nice reprieve from the beating sun.
George places you back down and kisses you with so much urgency, you can’t help but moan into his mouth. Not that it matters here. You can be as noisy and free as you want. He grabs you with one hand, tangling his fingers in your hair and holding you prisoner of his kiss as his other hand brushes down over your pussy. His fingers slide over your dent, gently pushing inside you as you open your stance.
Your nipples are diamond tips pressed against his chest as he slips two fingers inside your aching pussy and rubs his thumb flat against your clit in tiny, intoxicating circles. He presses his fingers inside you deep, filling you up, but still not as full as only his cock can. He finds a rhythm as he teases you with his thumb, driving you to the edge.
Before you know it, your body is tensed up around him and you’re screaming his name to the rushing water above. He pulls his fingers free from inside you and slips them into his mouth, savoring you.
“God, you taste like heaven.” He groans.
George grabs your hips and suddenly flips you around so you’re facing the black, smooth stone at the back of the waterfall. “I need you,” he breathes in your ear and you open your legs wide, leaning forward against the cool rocks as he brings the tip of his cock to your entrance with a desperate desire to claim you.
His hands roam up your body and cover your tits as he presses into you, opening your pussy for him like a flower blooming under the summer sun. Ever since you moved here and decided to give this a shot, you went on birth control. You figured with the sailing and occasional rooftop visits in the night, it would be a lot easier than dragging condoms everywhere with you. As he pushes open your walls and completely fills you with the heat of his thick, rock-hard cock, you’re so happy you made that decision.
“Uh!” It’s all you can utter and the noise bounces off the secret wall behind the waterfall. Even if anyone were to stumble on this place right now, no one would hear you. Between the whoosh of the falling water and the blanket of privacy it provides, you two are hidden from prying eyes.
“Oh fuck, babe, you feel so good.” He pushes inside you deeper, harder, filling you to your limit. You gasp and he reaches up, sliding his finger in your mouth. You instinctively twirl your tongue over it, teasing him. Showing him what his cock can enjoy later on. Maybe tonight when the two of you have had a chance to recover from this.
His cock twitches inside you as he loses control. He begins pumping his hips, driving his thick member into you rougher. It almost takes your breath away to feel him holding you so tight, filling you so full. It’s amazing.
Your pussy clenches down on him, milking him for his seed, begging to feel his warm cum fill you. George is lost in the feral grunts of pleasure only you can bring him. His breathing is jagged; he rasps your name in your ear as he buries every inch of his cock in your tight pussy.
His orgasm tears through him like a tropical storm, making every part of him vibrate and shake. His cock spurts inside you, his seed splashing heat against your walls and bringing you a primal orgasm that makes you grit your teeth on edge as the long shivers of bliss overtake you.
“You’re amazing.” George kisses your shoulder and pulls out.
You turn back around to face him with a smile. “You’re not too bad yourself,” you tease him. He gives you an easy laugh and lifts you back up, this time tossing you over his shoulder, and walks you under the waterfall.
“Not too bad, huh? Are you sure you don’t have anything nicer to say?” He holds you under the freezing water. How is it not affecting him? It’s splashing all over him too.
“Ah! Okay, okay! You’re amazing. Put me down,” you scream and laugh at the same time.
George finishes walking through and lets you down on the other side and you give him a light swat on the arm. “That was too cold!”
“Oh, no, do you need me to warm you up?” He tries to sound innocent, but you know there’s nothing innocent about his words.
“You’re insatiable!” You giggle. The truth is, you love it. You love how much he needs you. How he can never seem to get enough of you, like he’s addicted.
“Only for you,” he murmurs, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. As you melt into him and let the world around you disappear, you realize again just how lucky you are. How amazing your life is every single day now that you decided to live it. Now that everything is vibrant with color.
THE END
2
Love’s Wild Ride
Chapter 1
“Stop looking in your rearview mirror, you’re not going that way.”
You whisper the oh-so-California sentiment bitterly, knowing you’ll never again get to hear the Pacific Ocean crashing on the shore. You’ll never again feel the white sand squish up under your toes on Venice Beach. No. Well, not unless you go back to California as a… shudder… tourist. Because as far as big West Coast Hollywood dreams go, yours have been completely destroyed.
You’ve seen the billboards and cities blur by your window as your car hurled you down the I-10 toward home. Ugh, toward Samantha’s house. You could just hear her smugness dripping off your cell phone when you called. Your older sister has always rolled her eyes and asked you when you were going to grow up whenever you talked about your dreams of making it onto the silver screen.
Then again, maybe she was right to be so smug. After all, that cell phone was one of the last things you sold when you packed up with your tail between your legs.
Samantha has always looked down on your starry-eyed gaze and fantasies about being the next Hollywood “it girl.” And you used to look down on her cookie-cutter house surrounded by a literal white-picket fence. Of course, her picture-perfect home is filled with the picture-perfect family too. At least on paper.
Her sixteen-year-old football star son, Zach, might be a rising star, but his coke addiction could get in the way of ever going pro. Then there’s Jillian, her thirteen-year-old going on forty overachiever. With her high grades and insane over scheduled activities, you can easily picture her as the first female president. That is, if she doesn’t end up riddled with ulcers and a heart problem from all the stress of trying to live some kind of flawless, Instagram-filtered life.
Perfect.
That’s what your big sister has always been. The one who married her high school sweetheart and popped out the beautiful babies. The gorgeous natural blonde with the toothy grin. She’s always been the one your parents fawned over. The one you could never measure up to.
And now, here you are, crawling back to your old home town. The black sheep who failed at life is about to become the pet project. To be taken in by the golden child and transformed into a little version of her big sis.
You grimace and your gut twists tight as the realization hits you that you have no one to blame b
ut yourself. You could have chosen the same path as Samantha, but you didn’t. You were convinced you were somehow better than her. That you could be more than she was. But seven years of rejections and narrowing options in Hollywood proved you wrong.
Sure, you did land that one commercial when you first moved out. You were convinced the “feminine deodorant” ad was your first stepping stone to stardom. You even called up your parents and gushed about your big break, listening to them choke when you told them what the commercial was for. Big break? Not so much. Just a one-time opportunity that started out as a bright spot on your résumé and, as the years slipped by, eventually became a source of embarrassment.
Heat overwhelms you as it sears over your cheeks, leaving a blazing trail of pink on your golden skin. Little beads of sweat form on your hairline as shame and embarrassment battle it out in your gut.
Karunk-clickety-thunk.
Your car begins to rattle and shudder and you pull over to the side of the busy freeway. Oh shit. Looking down at the gauges, you see it wasn’t just humiliating memories making you so sweaty. It’s also the fact your car is completely overheating.
Hisssss.
A billow of steam rolls out from under the hood, clouding up your windshield like a fog machine on a movie set.
Damn it! Can’t anything go right? In the last week you’ve been canned from your waitressing job, been kicked out of your apartment by your roommates voting like some kind of Survivor tribal council, sold your stuff, and made arrangements to head back to Arizona with no money and no options. The only thing you had going for you was this car. Sure, it isn’t the prettiest or the fanciest, but it’s your favorite color and it’s paid off. And now, it’s just one more problem you can’t afford to have.
You fling your door open and stomp over to the hood, reaching under to unlatch it, and burn your fingers.
“Fuck!”
Rage boils up inside you and, without thinking, you start kicking your bumper. You smash your heel down on it angrily and kick rocks on the side of the road in a minor meltdown.
Okay, maybe not that minor. You curse a blue streak at the sky and fling your hands over your head as you realize that, with no cell phone, you’re just stuck here.
“Hey, um, do you need a hand?”
You whirl around on the dusty gravel and your eyes open wide as you soak in the sexy man straddling his motorcycle. He has his helmet snug under his arm and looks at you with his warm brown eyes dancing with amusement.
His full lips are tugged up in the corner, like he’s trying not to laugh at the little display you were putting on. The truth is, you don’t even mind his cocky little half-grin. You tuck your hair behind your ear and your anger melts away as a new emotion floods you powerfully… desire.
“I’m not sure if there’s anything you can do,” you manage to speak at last. “Honestly, I don’t know much about cars.”
“Mind if I take a look?” The way his gaze licks your body makes you wonder if he’s still talking about your car.
“Sure,” you squeak out the word.
He flips down his kick with his heel and swings his leg over his bike, nonchalantly walking toward you. With each gritty grind of his boots against the rocky shoulder, your heart flutters as he steps closer and closer to you. Your fingers brush your cheek as you study how his close, dark scruff kisses his strong jaw and how his leather jacket fits snugly over his taut frame.
It isn’t until he breezes past you and opens the hood that you realize you were holding your breath. It squeezes free from your chest like the hissing steam that is barely still puffing out from your car’s engine. The stranger disappears under the shield of the car hood and you look over at his motorcycle. You don’t really know the first thing about them, but you know his is sexy. It reminds you of those old movies, like the kind you’d see James Dean riding on while Marilyn Monroe clung to his back.
“Nothing I can do. You need a mechanic.” The sexy man interrupts your thoughts and you turn around to see he’s no longer hidden behind your car, but is right beside you.
“Are you sure?” You chew on your lip and try to imagine how much this is going to cost you. Where are you going to get the money to fix your only remaining tie to adulthood and freedom? It’s bad enough you have to go live with your sister and try to start over in your old town. Now are you going to have to need your sister to drive you around to job interviews and stores like one of her kids? Your shoulders slump with the realization that, just when you thought none of this could get worse, it did.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Sorry about that.” He looks genuinely concerned for you. His tawny eyes flicker over your face and his eyebrows knit together. “I don’t think I caught your name. I’m Hunter.” He holds out his meaty hand.
Your hand is enveloped by his as he gives it a shake. “I’m Meghan.” You’re flustered as a smile overwhelms you, seeming to only break out on your face after it’s traveled through your entire body.
“Did you want to call a tow truck? I can wait here with you until it comes,” Hunter offers.
“I don’t have a cell. Well, not anymore.” You look down at the dust.
“Not a problem, I’ll call.” He quickly tugs his iPhone from inside his leather jacket and makes arrangements for your poor, broken car to be picked up. As he ends the call, you suddenly realize how much you’re putting this guy out.
“You don’t have to wait around with me.” You hope he doesn’t take you up on your politeness.
“Pffft, like I’m gonna leave you here stranded. Not a chance.” His eyes narrow and the protective streak courses through him. Even though you only just met, you’re safe next to him. “Besides, I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be. Saving a beautiful damsel in distress is definitely the most interesting thing I’ve got planned for today.” He smirks.
“Well, I don’t know about all that, but thank you.” You look up at him from under your eyelashes and can’t help how your gaze flickers down to his lips. Your heartbeat thumps hard in your chest, reminding you of what it felt like to be alive before Hollywood rejection wore you down.
“No, thank you.” He leans into you. Is he going to kiss you? Will you kiss him back if he does? Your thoughts are a cyclone of fragments of emotions. Your breathing grows shallow and quick as the heat of his body almost singes your skin. He wraps his arms around you and moves you to the side. “We should probably move back from the road,” he murmurs.
You know you should be grateful that he’s looking out for you, but the disappointment you didn’t expect tastes bitter on your tongue.
“Thanks,” you finally muster.
The tow truck pulls up and your car is chained and being pulled off down the freeway before you know it. You grabbed your purse and bag from the back before the guy left, but now, as you stand on the side of the road, you realize you don’t have much of an idea about what to do next.
Hunter must see the conflict rolling over your face because he nods to his bike. “Hey, if you don’t have somewhere to be, how about we go grab a drink. You look like you could use one.”
You look at his motorcycle and then back to him. To say it’s a tempting offer would be an understatement. Still, following your heart has never ended well for you.
“I don’t have a helmet.” You tilt your head.
“Wear mine, I’m only going up the road a bit.”
You shrug. Why not?
“Sure, let’s go.” You follow Hunter to his motorcycle and let him help you on the back. The helmet is barely on your head when he pulls out and weaves into the traffic smoothly. It’s obvious he’s got a lot of experience riding.
You’re surprised when you cling onto his jacket and it’s so natural to hang on to him. Like he’s always been your rock. Like he’s always kept you safe. You don’t have much time to think about what any of this means. Hell, you don’t even really have time to process what you’re going to do about your car because Hunter is pulling into the parking lot of a Best W
estern hotel.
His roaring engine is cut off and you yank off your helmet with a scowl. “Listen, you’ve got the wrong idea.” You jerk your head at the hotel sign. “I’m not that kind of girl.” Anger builds up steam inside you, like when your car betrayed you.
“Hey now, what kind of guy do you think I am?” He smiles mischievously and you figure you know exactly what kind of guy he is. Trouble. “I’m staying here, but I’m not trying to bring you to my room. There’s a bar and restaurant on the main floor. If you still want a drink, that is.” He squints his eyes in the sun and seems to be memorizing your features.
“Just a drink?”
“Yep.”
“At the bar?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not the mini-bar in your room?” You can’t help but smile.
“Not unless you’re buying.” He laughs and you laugh with him.
“Okay then,” you agree.
Hunter helps you back off the bike and you walk beside him into the hotel lobby. He obviously knows where he’s going. He strolls confidently to the hotel bar.
“Whoa, Meghan? Is that you?”
Hunter walks into the bar, but you stop and turn toward the familiar voice. It can’t be. But it is. It’s your old high school sweetheart. The one who was your first love and your first heartbreak. Old emotions twist up in a giant, conflicted knot as you manage a weak smile.
“Bryce.” Your throat is parched all of a sudden.
“Wow, I didn’t know you were back in town. What are you doing here?” He looks at you like you’re still his. Every inch of you is being shamelessly soaked in by his dark eyes.
“It’s a long story.” You brush off the question. “What about you? Why are you here?” You vaguely wave at the hotel lobby.
“Oh, I’m in a wedding party tomorrow and we’re all spending the night here since the reception is here. Hey, uh, did you want to catch up a bit? We can sneak out of here and go to Oliver’s pub, maybe have a couple brews?”
Night Time Rendez-Vous: 3 sizzling novellas that will keep you up all night Page 6