Summer on Main Street

by Crista McHugh

  Walking warmed her, and she was sure between the bonfire and the wine, she’d be just fine once she got to the beach.

  The fire blazed about twelve feet in the air and brought back so many fun memories, some as a child, attending parties on the beach with her parents, some as a teenager, drinking her first wine coolers, experiencing her first kiss.

  Not as many people as she expected were there, but maybe it was still early. She’d already double-checked with Fitz and he didn’t have any plans to attend, choosing to celebrate at the open-aired bar next to the hotel. Good, because the last thing she needed was her big brother looking over her shoulder.

  Someone had found some driftwood and dragged it near the fire, so people could sit. Her first thought was that she wished Joy was here to see it, but no. She was not being a mother tonight. She was being a woman.

  If she could remember how.

  She found Mercedes right away, but she was snuggled up to Vince, one of the cooks from the Italian place. Okay, then. She saw a few other friends from high school, but hesitated approaching them. What did she have in common with them? She was the only one with a kid. She didn’t even know what to talk about other than Joy and work.

  She hovered close to the warmth of the fire, but not too close, since one of the guys from The Wharf was enthusiastically throwing more wood on it, sending sparks flying. One spark on this outfit and she’d go up in smoke. Still, it was nice to not be shivering anymore.

  “Hey, I heard Fitz is back in town.” Georgie, who’d been a cheerleader in high school and was now dressed as a, well, a cheerleader, sashayed over.

  “He is, just got back this week.”

  “Is he still in the army?”

  “Reserves, until he fulfills his commitment.”

  “So what’s he going to do with his time?” Georgie folded her arms, pressing her impressive breasts together.

  “He’s going to fix up some things around the house, do some work.” She didn’t want this woman anywhere near her brother. While she wasn’t crazy about his casual relationship with Rachel, she couldn’t think of another woman who was good enough for her brother. Georgie would be at the bottom of that list.

  “Well, if he has extra time on his hands, send him my way.”

  She absolutely wouldn’t, but smiled anyway. She twisted off the top of her wine bottle and looked about for a cup.

  And stopped short when Blue rounded the fire, dressed as a…what, a Greek god? Gladiator? Something with very little fabric around his hips, leaving his chest and shoulders bare, his tanned skin glistening in the light from the fire.

  She damn near dropped the bottle of wine on her foot.

  “Wow,” she said, perfectly aware her mouth was hanging open, perfectly aware people were watching, not giving a damn. “That’s…some costume. Who are you, exactly?”

  He stretched out a hand. “My name’s Blue Ramsey. Nice to meet you.”

  “Oh, har-har.” But she put her hand in his nonetheless. “I mean, who are you supposed to be?”

  He angled his head and smirked. “Your wildest dream.”

  Oh, yeah.

  “And you? Do you know how to work that costume?” he teased.

  “Not until I find a cup for this.” She held up the bottle.

  He released her hand to curve his around the bottle, inspecting the label. “That’s going to bite you in the butt.”

  “Joy’s with her dad this weekend. I can afford it.”

  He lifted his gaze to hers. “Is she?”

  Suddenly, she felt very warm, and not from the fire. Had she revealed too much? But when he took her hand and guided her over the sand, around the fire to sit beside him on one of the pieces of driftwood, she didn’t care. She didn’t care if the wood snagged the costume, she didn’t care if anyone saw them together. Her libido had totally taken over, as well as her pride. She kind of enjoyed the way the other women were looking at her in envy.

  Blue located a plastic cup from somewhere, poured half of her wine into it and passed it over. She took a sip and made a face at the sweetness. She hadn’t had wine in ages and hadn’t known what to buy, but the woman at the grocery store had said this one was good.

  She was wrong.

  Blue took the cup from her, turned it and drank, his lips over the same spot hers had been, but he didn’t look at her, only looked straight into the fire as he passed it back.

  She drank again, a little nervously this time. Someone started playing music with a heavy bass beat and several people got up to dance. Brioney watched them writhe in the firelight like the pagans they were honoring, some in pairs, some alone, and she took another drink, feeling the alcohol warm her, loosen her tense muscles.

  Then Blue was pulling her to her feet and guiding her a little way from the others, but he turned her to him, undulating to the music. At first she was too mesmerized by the play of his muscles to do more than stand there. She’d never seen him dance before, not like this, every line of his body sexy as hell as he danced for her, then edged closer, brushing against her, until she started moving first, self-consciously, then letting desire move her, her hips rolling, breasts bouncing, the inside of her thigh brushing the outside of his.

  The contact made both of them jolt, but before she could move away, he stretched out a hand to hold her waist. The occasional contact of his hair-roughened leg against the sheer fabric that barely covered hers made her nerves spark, her nipples hard, and even though she hadn’t had more than a sip of wine, she felt light-headed, out of control. Her inhibitions took a holiday as she swayed before him, into him, letting the backs of her fingers trail down his arm, over the ridges of his bicep. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and lifted her chin to look up at him. He grinned and tightened his hand on the small of her back, to bring her closer. She tugged free with a swing of her hair and a shimmy of her boobs in the sequined bra. Heat flared in his eyes and he reached for her again. This time she leaned against him willingly, sweat sealing her bare belly to his. Holding her tight, he swayed down, bringing her against him, over him, before rising with her. She rode his thigh for a moment before a wolf whistle made her realize what they were doing, and where. She backed away, breaking contact, and was about to return to her place on the log when she lost her footing in the shifting sand.

  Blue caught her about the waist and pulled her back against him, his hand splayed across her stomach, his head dipping down to her shoulder. His whiskers brushed her skin and she dropped her head against his chest, no longer caring who was watching, wanting his hands everywhere, wanting him naked, her naked. Her entire body was aware of every inch of his, of his arousal growing against her ass.

  In that costume, that could be dangerous.

  She turned her head. “Let’s get out of here.”

  His hand twitched on her stomach. “Are you sure?”

  No, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t want everyone to see them leave together, especially so soon after she’d gotten here. And she’d wanted to stay longer. But right now all she wanted was to be alone with him.

  “Has to be your place.”

  He nodded. “Scared of my bike?”

  Terrified. She held out the fabric of her belly dancer pants.

  He shook his head. “You’ll be fine. I’ll show you where to put your legs.”

  Oh, she had a pretty good idea where she should put her legs.

  “Stay close,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and guiding her toward the shadows and the parking lot. A moment passed before she realized he was using her as a shield to hide his erection. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone as they made their escape. She stopped at the edge of the beach to retrieve her flip-flops from the boardwalk before they continued to the parking lot.

  She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed the motorcycle on her way down, that his presence had surprised her. Would she have walked away if she’d known he was here?

  Yes, she would have.

  They reached his bike a
nd he climbed on first, then twisted around to hold out a hand to her. She put her hand in his, his palm hard and strong, and swung her leg over the seat. She shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot. He reached back and hooked his hands under her knees, drawing her forward, hooking her legs over his bare thighs so her fabric didn’t catch in the motor.

  “You good?” he asked.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, her palms resting on his bare stomach. His hard, bare stomach, those tight abs. She resisted the urge to slide her hands up his chest as he started the engine. He needed to focus on getting them to his place.

  She’d never been on a motorcycle before, and knew that he was going slow for her sake, but she kind of loved the freedom of the wind blowing her hair, of the bike dipping as it turned this way and that way. She loosened her death-grip on him, and he must have understood her signal, because he picked up speed and she laughed, pressing her mouth to his shoulder as she watched the island flash by.

  The ride was over too soon, and they pulled in front of his apartment, which was really a converted store with an apartment overhead. The store had long been empty. As Brioney recalled, the last occupant had been a souvenir shop which had gone out of business when the bigger one was built on the main road to the beach. In addition to Blue’s place, the motel was nearby, a taco place, a burger place, a seafood place, a T-shirt printer. The beach was only steps away, and the rhythm of the waves was relentless. This building was the only thing occupied at this hour.

  Blue pulled the bike parallel to the curve and Brioney unwrapped her legs, but he caught them quickly, before he put the bike stand down.

  “Motor’s still hot, so be careful.”

  She nodded and swung her legs wide to jump off the bike and onto the cracked sidewalk. Then Blue was beside her, his hand on her waist, and nerves fluttered to life again.

  “You ready to come upstairs?”

  He was giving her a chance to walk away, to change her mind. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was absolutely willing to take her home, to end this.

  She didn’t want to end this.

  “Take me upstairs.”

  He curved his hand around her jaw and lifted her face, kissing her so sweetly, his lips cool from the wind. Before she could lean into him, he stepped back and took her hand, then led her up the outside stairs.

  The covered patio was cluttered with dead plants, discarded shoes and shirts, a couple of surfboards, a plastic table covered with pots of wax for the surfboards. She almost dreaded to see what the inside of the apartment looked like.

  “Damn, I forgot you’re a maid. Don’t look.”

  Okay, that didn’t make her feel any more confident as she walked into the apartment behind him.

  Lord, a typical bachelor pad, a disaster, the only clear spot on the couch was the one directly in front of the television. The kitchen, to her left, was covered with what looked like plastic dishes in various states of cleanliness. She could only imagine what the bedroom looked like.

  No, she wouldn’t think about that.

  He must have guessed what she was thinking because he lifted her hand to his lips, and led her through the living area and into the bedroom.

  As she suspected, the bed was unmade, the sheets tangled, but the rest of the room wasn’t too bad. At least he didn’t appear to eat in here.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded her head and he kissed her again, deeper, bringing her whole body against all of his. His chest hair tickled the tops of her breasts as his tongue teased her lips apart. He ran his hand up and down her bare back as he stroked his tongue along hers. She held onto his shoulders, felt the play of muscles beneath his warming skin. She pressed closer until he chuckled and stepped back, rubbing his hand over his chest and looking at her top.

  “Those sequins are painful.”

  “Not from where I’m standing.” But even as she lifted her chin to meet his gaze, she reached behind her to unfasten the sequined bra and let it fall down her arms before she tossed it to the floor.

  He drew in a breath and slid his hands up her waist to cup her breasts, weighing them, stroking the hard tips until she gasped as well. He kissed the line of her shoulder and down the slope of her breast before taking her nipple into his mouth, flicking with his tongue before sucking, soothing the need that had been thrumming through her since he pulled her out onto the sand to dance.

  God, his mouth felt so good, his whiskers rasping her skin, his lips and tongue hot. He lifted his head and pulled her against him, her breasts to his chest, and kissed her, hard.

  The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the cool sheets, he was unzipping her belly dancer pants at the hip, and then she was naked. With Blue. And he was looking at her as if he had dreamed this all his life.

  Then he was over her, his mouth hot and mobile on hers so that she had trouble keeping up. She wound her fingers through his hair, holding him to her, filling herself with the taste of him, letting his scent wash around her.

  He pulled free, his lips dipping toward her ear. When he found that sensitive spot below it, she moaned, arching up into him. He squeezed her ass with his free hand, lingering on the spot that was going to make her melt right into the mattress, brushing it with beard, lips, teeth, tongue. She wanted to urge his hand between her legs, but didn’t want this delicious anticipation to end yet.

  He dragged his lips along her jaw, down the line of her throat, and captured her hand to press it to his chest. She twined her finger through his chest hair, loving the crispness of it against her skin, before she followed the line of hair down his flat belly. She hesitated as he held his breath, then closed her hand around his erection.

  He groaned as she explored the length, the texture, finding what pleased him as she stroked her hand up and down.

  “Not yet,” he managed in a strangled tone, pushing her hand away. “Not yet.”

  He kissed the curve of her breast, teasing her nipple with the proximity of his mouth before he continued down her belly. She’d never made love to anyone with a beard before, had no idea how erotic it could be to feel the combined softness and scratchiness against her sensitive skin. He pressed her thighs apart and blew lightly against her sex. She almost came, right then. She lifted her hips from the bed in invitation, but instead he ran his fingers up and down the inside of her thighs until every nerve quivered in anticipation. He paused, and she looked down the length of her body at him. He held her gaze, and lowered his mouth to her.

  She bowed off the bed, her entire body tight as his tongue swept over her, his lips nuzzled, and she flew apart, every fiber of her being scattering in a different direction, bouncing around the room before returning her to one liquified piece. Blue lifted his head and smiled at her. “That was easy.”

  “Shut up and come inside me.” Because as content as she was, she felt empty.

  “You sure?”

  What was he asking her? They couldn’t be more intimate than they’d just been. She held her arms out to him, and he rose over her, guiding himself to her, filling her. She grasped his shoulders and pushed into him, grinding against him. He held her gaze as he began to move, over her, in her.

  She never would have thought they’d fit together so perfectly, that they would find a rhythm so easily. She braced her heels against the bed and met his thrusts, rolling into him, against him. She stroked her hands down his back, savoring the heat of his skin, the tautness of his muscles.

  He paused to rest his fingers along her cheek and bent to kiss her with such tenderness, the arousal she thought spent when he brought her to orgasm ignited again. She matched his kiss and wound around him, so tightly she could feel every beat of his heart, every exhale of breath. Their arms tangled, their legs, as they rolled together and strained to be closer.

  He lifted his head and held her gaze for a moment, before his eyes drifted shut on a groan as he came. His pleasure triggered her own, and even as he was slowing, she slammed into him as her clim
ax washed over her.

  They clung together a little longer before he kissed her again, long and sweet, and pulled out of her.

  “I’ve been waiting for that forever,” he murmured, dropping to his back and flinging his arm over his head.

  “Not forever, surely.”

  He bent and kissed her forehead again. “Feels like it.”

  “Was it worth the wait?” she asked, then cringed because it sounded like she was fishing for compliments.

  “Absolutely. Give me a few minutes and I’ll show you.”

  The idea that he could want her so much, so soon, sent a different kind of thrill through her, and she let him bring her into his arms, against the pounding of his heart, the dampness of his skin.

  “Can you stay tonight?” he asked as she was drifting off.

  She shouldn’t. This had just been sex, hadn’t it? She should get up and go home, make him take her home. But she wasn’t ready to walk away, not yet.

  “I need to text Fitz and let him know so he won’t worry.” Even when she was being an independent woman, she couldn’t be independent, could she? She pulled free of Blue’s arms, felt around the floor for her belly dancer pants and the pouch where she’d tucked her phone. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she sent her brother a vague message, turned off the screen and turned back to Blue.

  He’d propped himself on a pillow and was watching her, looking pretty damned pleased with himself.

  “What?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her legs, suddenly self-conscious.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He stroked his fingertips down her spine, circling at the small of her back, igniting the same fire he’d just extinguished. She stretched out beside him, trying not to think about her resemblance to her sister.

  “You already got me into bed. You don’t have to say that.”

  “That’s not why I said it.” He tightened his arms around her. “And I want to keep you here.”

  Chapter Six