I scooted forward on the blanket, cross-legged, until our knees touched. Then I placed my hands over his. “Who showed you love growing up, Beck?”
A careless shrug, like it didn’t matter. “No one, I guess. Willow and the other dogs in that program, when I was older. And now Elián. And it’d be hard for me to say it to them, but I love Wes and Jem too.”
“Your family,” I said.
“A family I almost lost because I can’t do my fucking job,” he said, anger edging his voice. I stroked the palm of his hand.
“You’re fixing it,” I said. “It’s getting better. You didn’t lose them.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I felt okay during that video.”
“You spoke from the heart,” I said. “It was the most authentic thing I’ve ever seen. I envy that in you. Behind the walls you’ve built lives a man who isn’t ashamed to be who he is. We can all learn from that.”
He indicated the lush nature surrounding us. “This is who you are, Luna.”
“It is. But money has changed everything in my life. Every single thing. And it’s only now that I feel like I can really let myself see the fact that I allowed myself to compromise a core value of mine.”
Beck leaned back on his hands but kept our knees touching. “Did you grow up rich?”
I slipped a piece of watermelon into my mouth, enjoyed its rich sweetness. “My parents always had enough money, but rarely more than enough. And when they had more, they gave it away. Donated it. When I was entering that VC competition, I knew I wanted to found a company that would change the cosmetics industry. But I also knew that when I got that money I’d eagerly give it away. Never hoard it or keep it for myself. Instead a decade has gone by and philanthropy hasn’t factored into my existence at all. Not one tiny bit. Instead I have so much money it’s laughable. And yet at night I have anxiety dreams about not having enough. And during my workday, I’m constantly strategizing about ways to get more. Because I do need more. I have more employees, more salaries, more costs, more products, more, more, more.”
The waves behind us curled in, white and frothy, and beneath I knew the ocean floor was teeming with fish and other sea creatures.
“I no longer feel right about the role of money in my life. And the fact that, whether I like it or not, it contributed to the situation I currently find myself in. That… greed.” The word felt like a sin. It certainly was to my parents. Greed was the worst of human weaknesses because it meant others around us would never have enough. “Money, image, branding. It’s all interconnected and the way I’m living right now isn’t right. It’s not entirely wrong either…” I scratched my head, thinking.
“But before the fraud though,” he said. “Your company was changing things. That’s not bad at all.”
I thought about what Wild Heart stood for, the policies we had in place. “No, you’re right. That’s true too.”
I cut watermelon in half, passed him a slice.
“The Miami Devils are runners,” he said. “Money, guns. People, sometimes. Cars. Anything of high value, you can pay a member of the MC to run it from one place to the next. They don’t give a shit what it is. They don’t have values. Their only need is money.”
I tilted my head, listening.
“My parents have always wanted a criminal empire, hidden inside a club. They’ve always wanted money. Shitty thing is that most motorcycle clubs aren’t gangs, aren’t criminals. Just groups of people who love riding bikes and enjoy their freedom. In Miami, my parents have stolen that freedom. Turned it into violence. And they’re too deep in it now. This is how they’ll live until the end.” He reached forward and tugged on a strand of my hair. I smiled at him. “Not you though. You’re at the beginning.”
I held his hand, put it to my lips. “As are you, Beck Mason.”
Hope was taking root in my heart. I leaned forward and kissed him for a long, long time. It was a sweet, exploratory kiss. My fingers slid into his hair. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his lap.
“It’s time for the next part of our hooky date,” I said, untangling myself from his warm body.
“You’re sure?” he asked, voice rough.
In response, I tugged on the strings of my sarong, which dropped to the sand. Slowly untied my bikini top. Let it drop. Watched the transformation on his face—from emotion to a lust that stole my breath. I very deliberately slid the bikini bottoms down my legs and stepped out of them.
“Are you coming?” I asked. I backed down the sand, staring at the mountain of a man who was standing up. All muscle and hair and commanding strength. When he slipped out of his trunks, his thighs were thick with power. And that now-famous cock jutted away from his body.
Beck was magnificent. And he was prowling toward me in the water.
The water was at mid-thigh—it was bathwater-warm, gentle. Lapping at my skin like a lover, like Beck. The air was sticky, scented with flowers and there wasn’t a soul in sight.
He reached me in seconds and dropped to his knees. Pressed his face between my breasts and inhaled the scent of my body. His head tilted up, the look on his face reverent. Worshipful.
“I’m not coming, sweetheart,” he said, fingers gliding along my thighs. “You are.”
45
Beck
Luna stood naked in crystal-clear water—an image that would be burned into my brain. I was ready to be taken by her, to give her every piece of myself. If I couldn’t share all of my past yet, I could share this. My body and its desires.
I landed on my knees in the soft sand. Kissed between her perfect breasts. Taking one, and then the other, fully into my mouth as she clutched at my shoulders. I scraped my teeth across her nipples as my hands did filthy things beneath the waves. Like slip between her legs to find her clit; like stroke my index finger across it as I licked patterns across her nipple.
“Beck, what are you doing?” she gasped. “I thought… thought we were going to swim naked.”
I could see her expression of joy. Needed to ask her permission for what I wanted to do to her.
“I want to fuck you on the rocks,” I said. My finger slid inside her and she shuddered everywhere.
“Do it,” she sighed. I groaned against her skin, scraping my teeth along her ribcage, slowly fingering her as my mouth moved down her stomach. I was hungry for her, could barely contain my sexual pleasure when my tongue found her clit. Lapped at it like the water around us.
“Beck, oh god,” she sighed.
I held her hard to my face, steadying her in the waves so I could enjoy her sweet pussy out in the open like this. My tongue dove deep inside of her body as I gripped her ass cheeks. I let my mouth move without purpose. Just tasting.
But she was already shaking. Already pulsing her hips forward.
“Are you close already?” I asked.
“You’re just… it’s too good,” she moaned. “Your tongue, it’s like… it’s like…” I fluttered feather-light strokes diagonally across the bud, and Luna wailed. “It’s like magic.”
I sucked her clit between my lips and hummed, giving her a hard vibration. She yanked my hair and wailed louder. This woman was going to come on my face in the middle of the goddamn ocean and I was fucking here for it. I wouldn’t stop now—not when the woman I was gone for needed something. So instead of tasting delicious Luna, I licked hard circles around her clit as fast as I could and she screamed. The climax hit and the strength left her body—allowing me to hold her up as I licked her down—the taste of her pussy mixing with the sweat on her body, the salt of the waves.
“You are so unbelievably beautiful,” I rasped, looking at her from my place on my knees. Luna was wide-eyed and panting.
“Please fuck me, Beck,” she said. And then I was standing all the way up, wrapping her legs around my waist, and walking toward the closest flat rock.
“I didn’t bring condoms, sweetheart,” I said, kissing her ear. “I’ll just keep eating that gorgeous—”
“I want your cock bare,” she said.
Flash went my brain.
“Luna,” I swore, laying her on that rock and fisting myself—enjoying her spread out in front of me. “Are you safe?”
She nodded, reached forward to glide her fingers with mine along the length of my shaft. “Protected. Clean. You?”
“Same,” I said. I took her mouth in a kiss meant to be gentle—but she had me snarling in seconds.
“Don’t you dare hold back on me, Beck,” she said. “I want you to take it all.”
I flipped her over and yanked her up onto her knees, letting the beast take over. I leaned in and bit her ass cheek. She squealed and pushed back.
So I bit her harder.
“That’s how I like it.” She sighed, cheek to the warm rock, dark hair fanned around her. My palm slid up the back of her thighs, dipping in between. I teased her clit and licked inside of her, licked as deep as I could, getting her close again.
Because I wasn’t sure how long I would last.
“Please, please, please,” Luna chanted.
“Is that Luna, begging for my cock?” I teased gently.
Her fingers scrambled at the rock ledge, gripping. “I’d do anything and you know it,” she replied.
I gave her a ringing slap on her ass and she arched back. Gave me a look over her shoulder so filled with lust I abandoned any other plans I had for her ass and lined up my cock right at her pussy.
Luna smiled. “Please, Beck.”
I slid the first two inches inside, giving her time to adjust—to my size, the angle, the fact that we were having sex. Sex I believed that would change everything. She was tight and wet. I had the impulse to slam all the way in.
“More,” she said, and there was an edge to her voice I hadn’t heard directed at me before. But I’d heard it in her office.
A command.
I fully seated my cock inside of her.
I wasn’t going to survive this.
“More, more, more,” she cried. I wrapped the strands of her hair around my fist. Yanked. Slid all the way out and slammed all the way back in.
Luna turned her head around. “It’s too intense,” she whimpered. “Beck, it’s too… too much.”
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” I said, giving my hips a roll that sent her body pitching forward. She sobbed my name. “Tell me what you need.”
“To come,” she said.
Biology took over. I kept hold of her hair with one hand and began to fuck her thoroughly, as if nothing else in the world mattered except her pleasure. And nothing else did matter—I could admit that now, watching my cock slide in and out of her pussy, hearing the way she cried my name, like the sound of it got her hot.
This scene got me hot—fucking this woman on her hands and knees on a rock in the middle of a private beach. Even if someone was watching us, fucking good. Let them see it—let them see how obsessed I was with this woman.
I drove into her from behind with long, even strokes that made her scream and gasp and cry out as I pulled on her beautiful hair. But as she got close, I pulled out and flipped her back over. Slid inside her body with her legs around my waist. Angled my pelvis so I ground against her clit as I let her have it, fucking her fast, with no sense of control.
But our mouths spoke a different story. I fucked Luna like an animal—but kissed her with all the tenderness I had, both hands in her hair as I drank her in. Trying to show her how she made me feel.
Luna’s orgasm rushed over her—and I was swept away too. I cried out against her mouth as I emptied inside of her. The release was too good, too perfect, too real, like it was never going to stop.
She stroked my face, held my gaze as I rode out the pleasure.
She kissed my cheek. My jaw.
Forget one brick falling. Luna had officially sent my walls tumbling down. I pressed our foreheads together. She was still staring at me with dark eyes. Eyes that saw me for who I was, completely.
Who showed you love, Beck?
No one had shown me love, not then. Not at all.
But I knew who was showing me love now.
46
Luna
It was Friday night and I was staring bleary-eyed at my computer. I was sitting cross-legged in my living room on a meditation cushion, wearing yoga pants and a giant tee-shirt, hair in a messy ponytail.
I felt… ready.
I was going to start Wild Heart’s Foundation.
And I’d never been happier.
The only distraction I’d had in the last seventy-two hours was the fact that Beck had fucked me into a literal sex daze on that rock. I found myself staring out the window more than usual, replaying everything we’d done on a dirty little loop inside my brain.
Beck’s fingers, yanking on my hair.
Beck’s mouth, tasting me everywhere.
Beck’s miracle of a cock—which had done what I’d fantasized about. Stretched me perfectly, filled me just right. Stroked nerve endings into a deep, delirious fire of sensation that made me scream. Was it any wonder I couldn’t stop thinking about that filthy fu—
The doorbell rang, storming through my hundredth sexual daydream that day. It was after ten, which meant probably Daisy, looking to borrow body glitter before heading out on some extravagant yacht adventure.
“You can take my glitter but you have to bring it back this time, Daze,” I called out, yawning into my hand as I walked toward the front door. “I might need it this weekend—oh.”
Not Daisy at the door.
Beck Mason. Holding his helmet under one arm and a delicious-smelling plate in the other.
“Hi,” he said, looking shy.
“Hi,” I breathed. I knew I sounded obsessed but who cared. “What are you doing here?”
“Um. I know you’ve been really busy the past few days and we haven’t seen each other since, you know, our date. I made you vegan peanut butter cup cookies. Or tried to.”
I lifted the cloth to find twelve irregularly shaped cookies that looked half-burnt, half-undercooked and absolutely delicious. “I usually only can make macaroni and cheese from a box. And Jem wasn’t there to help. They’re probably terrible.”
“I think this might be the most adorable moment of my life,” I mused.
His lips lifted. “Well, I think you’re adorable too, sweetheart.”
Swoonsville, population: Me.
“It’s ten at night and you came over here to see if I was… up?” I asked, tilting my head.
“Sure. Is that okay?”
“I believe the kids call that a booty call, Mr. Mason. Next time text me an eggplant emoji.”
“A what?” he asked, brow furrowed.
I laughed. “Never mind. Come in. I need a break anyway. A billionaire’s job is never done but a girl’s gotta eat. I’ve also got kombucha, your favorite. And also leftover noodles with lemon-pepper tofu—”
He dropped the plate on the island and pulled me in for a dramatically passionate kiss — bending me over backward and tangling his hands in my hair as our mouths moved together hungrily. After long, sensual minutes, we both came up for air.
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day,” he said.
“Same,” I panted.
He placed me back on my feet and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll have some of that kombucha.”
“Excuse me, what?”
Beck shrugged. “I’m trying new things. Vegan things.”
“Interesting,” I mused. I opened up my refrigerator and cocked my head inside. “Check out what I had in here in case you ever showed up unannounced.”
It was a six-pack of ice-cold Heineken, backlit by the fridge light like a beer commercial.
“I’ll have that, please.”
I winked. “Excellent choice.”
We smiled at each other with fucking hearts coming out of our eyes probably.
I watched Beck move through my house, touching the plants, examining the framed, funky art
pieces. There was a huge wall of photos that he paused next to, stepping back to take it all in. The photos were mismatched: in between cute pictures of me with Cameron, Emily and Daisy were family shots with my parents and grandparents, trips to see extended family in Mexico and Italy. Volunteer work both here and in other countries. That magazine article I had hanging in my office, declaring Wild Heart’s ability to change the world.
I was also currently standing in my mansion wearing a very simple outfit that still cost thousands.
“Does it make you hate me?” I asked Beck, completely out of the blue. “Seeing, you know, all of this?”
He gave me a rueful smile. “Still processing, I’m guessing?”
“Kind of,” I said, pulling my right leg up into a tree pose. “I was working on research to start the foundation, that’s why I’m asking. I’ve got money on my mind.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” Beck said. “And no. It doesn’t make me hate you. I do still feel uncomfortable with it.”
This was open Beck. Vulnerable Beck. I let that truth sit for a minute in the air between us. Gave it space to breathe.
“The difference between how much money you have and how much I have is like… it feels as huge as the ocean,” he admitted. “You just… have it. I don’t.”
“I get it,” I said. “I really do. But this is my home, my life, and I want you to feel okay here. Comfortable. We could work on it. I want… I really want to work on it for you. Maybe you won’t feel entirely comfortable now, but… eventually?” There was a note of hope hanging at the end of eventually.
WILD OPEN HEARTS: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy Page 23