Who I'm Becoming

by S. Q. Williams

  I smiled like an eager child as he stood up, bringing me with him. My feet sank in the warm sand as we started towards the water, and as the beach turned into the shore, I smiled as the now wet sand crawled between my toes. It felt nice. Really nice.

  “I should take you to the beach more often,” Montana said, releasing my hand and walking forward. The water rushed around his ankles, and he wiggled his toes.

  “This was one of the things I wanted to experience. Spending time on a beach… enjoying the sun. It’s always so cold in France.”

  He craned his neck to look at me. “Wait… this is your first time coming to the beach?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “My second, but the first time I went it wasn’t very enjoyable. It rained the whole time my girlfriends and I were there. Kind of killed the entire mood.”

  “Damn.”

  I hooked my arm through his. “I’m glad to be out here with you, you know that right?”

  Montana fought a smile, bringing me closer. He turned in my direction, centering his body between mine. “That’s good to know. I’m glad too.” The tip of his nose skimmed my jawline, and as he got lower, breathing down my neck, I closed my eyes. I thought for sure he was going to spice things up, but boy was I wrong. He’d baited me just to trick me.

  Instead, he picked me up in his arms and rushed into the water, going deeper and deeper into the waves. He was only knee-deep, but by the look in his eyes, I could tell he was about to do something extremely outrageous. “Oh my gosh, Montana, you better not—”

  I wasn’t allowed to complete my sentence. He’d already tossed me into the water. My mouth was wide open, and all I tasted was salt. As I surfaced, I glared at him, and he burst out laughing. The harder he laughed, the more idiotic I felt.

  I felt so idiotic I actually started laughing myself. “That was absolutely cruel!” I whined.

  He tried reaching for me, but I backed away, refusing his touch. “You can’t touch me… For the rest of the night I’m officially off limits to you,” I said, marching towards the shore while wringing out my hair.

  He caught up to me though, and asked, “Is that so?” as he circled his arms around my waist. I giggled uncontrollably as he picked me up and lifted me in the air from behind. We were right at the shore, and I demanded that he put me down, but he refused. Instead, he nuzzled my neck, letting off a throaty laugh as he held me close.

  I admit, this feeling made my skin hum and my core tingle. He was giving me goose bumps. His playfulness was something I’d never experienced, but I was enjoying it. I felt special in his arms, and for a moment, every other thought outside of that seemed to fade.

  As he placed me on my feet, I turned in his arms. He was still smiling, but my face became serious. Like a girl in need, I crushed his lips, bolting my arms around his neck and sinking against him. He picked me up, clutching my ass as he returned the passion I was more than pleased to feel.

  He grunted and slowly started to stumble back. I could feel us sinking in the sand, and Montana brought us down to the ground with ease. Somehow, he ended up between my legs. My bare back was on the gravelly sand, the cool water running beneath my bum. It only added to the moment.

  I wasn’t sure what I was feeling on the inside, but on the outside, as he thrust against me, kissing me so deeply and so fiercely I couldn’t stand it, I knew what I was feeling couldn’t be denied. Our bodies seemed to be meant for each other. We were glued together.

  He was rock hard.

  I was soaking wet.

  Our lips slightly parted and Montana released a ragged breath, staring down at me. I placed the back of my head down on the sand, and he lifted his sunglasses so I could see his eyes. They were penetrating… in desperate need.

  I loved that look in his eyes.

  “I could take you here,” he said, taking a quick look around. He leaned his head down to kiss my cheek, and I laughed, shaking my head.

  “No… not here. Let’s keep making out. We can save everything else for the hotel room.”

  His eyes lit up. “Don’t play with me,” he said.

  “I’m not kidding.” I giggled. “I mean it.”

  His lips smothered mine. “Okay, Princess.” He kissed me again. I oozed with desire. “Let’s keep making out then.”

  I sighed behind his next warm and sugary kiss.

  Goodness, he was perfect.

  MONTANA

  Ten

  Three days had passed.

  Three insanely incredible days. Lauren hadn’t freaked out since that night we had Japanese, and I was glad. I enjoyed the goofy side of her and especially her wild side, but it seemed our time together was coming to an end rather quickly because the more I thought about it, the more I realized it all was happening in a blur.

  With her, I didn’t need to drink myself into a coma just to feel good. I had fun just by drinking one or two beers, lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, and talking about music and guitars. She knew a lot about guitars. If I were the settling type, I wouldn’t have hesitated to make her mine. I loved a woman that knew a thing or two about decent music. She had good taste, too.

  The third night, though, while walking with her in the park, I realized something—something that terrified me. I hadn’t had enough of her. We only had three days left, and I still felt some kind of gaping hole within me. It was hard to explain and damn sure hard to ignore, but it really got to me, so much so that Lauren took notice, stopped walking, and grabbed my hands just to ask me what was wrong.

  I avoided her eyes, forcing a small smile. “It’s nothing.”

  Silence crept between us. When I finally looked at her, she had her eyes narrowed in my direction. “It’s something. Tell me. I’m here to listen.”

  I hesitated on speaking. She walked towards a bench a few steps away and sat down, pulling me down with her. Her smile sparkled beneath the pale moonlight, and I sighed. She was undeniably sexy. Actually, she was beautiful. It was fucking weird thinking she was beautiful of all words. That word wasn’t really a big part of my vocabulary.

  I had to man the hell up. I mean, I’d shared a lot of shit with her the past few days. I told her crazy stories I only shared with my band. I was that comfortable with her. This week flew by quickly, too quickly as a matter of fact. I needed to see if she felt the same. “This has been one hell of a week, huh?” I asked, running my free hand over my hair.

  Her dimples appeared as she squeezed my hand. She then reached up, pushing a loose strand of my hair back. “I like your hair this way,” she murmured. “All slick and smoothed back.”

  “Thanks…” The way I said it came out as more of a question than a statement.

  She looked at me, confused. “What’s wrong?”

  “You avoided the question.”

  Blinking rapidly, she pulled her hand from mine. A part of me weakened just a little as she turned forward, placing her now clasped hands in her lap. “Yes, Montana, it has been one hell of a week.”

  “Have you had the right amount of ‘fun’ you were seeking with me?” I asked, bumping shoulders with her.

  “I’ve had more fun than I imagined.” She grinned, bumping my shoulder back. “Thank you.”

  “Ehh.” I shrugged. “You don’t have to thank the master.” I was playing it cool, but deep down, I knew there was a reason she’d avoided my question. I refused to ask her about it.

  Her smile was big for a moment, but then it died the longer she looked at me. Her gaze was heavy and made me somewhat uncomfortable. It always made me feel uncomfortable. It was like she was scrutinizing me… I didn’t like to be scrutinized. Holding onto my composure, I brought my elbows to my thighs and bent forward, staring ahead at the small pond.

  “You’re going to leave tonight, aren’t you?” she whispered, breaking the silence.

  I froze.

  Fuck.

  It was almost like she’d just read my mind… well, sort of.

  I knew once we got back to the hotel and
I went up to my room after spending just a little more time with her, I was going to debate whether to go home or not. It was a dick move, yeah, but deep down, I knew it was necessary. I hated admitting it to myself, but I was getting hooked. The last thing I needed was to get hooked on a girl like her — a girl just as afraid of commitment as I was. It scared the living shit out of me. It never would’ve worked.

  “I knew it,” she whispered.

  I glanced at her with sullen eyes. Her gaze was now down, locked on the pavement. I couldn’t read her expression. I couldn’t tell if she was glad about it or upset. She was fucking hard to decipher. The longer I stared at her though, the guiltier I felt. I couldn’t fucking leave. I promised her a week, and if there was one thing about me it was that I never broke my promises. I wasn’t leaving unless she wanted me to.

  I started to speak, but she beat me to the punch. “You know, it probably is best that you leave early.”

  My lips parted. I frowned, sitting up and looking her over. She didn’t look at me. She was still looking down. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… I feel what you feel. I know why you want to leave, Montana. What we’re feeling isn’t what we agreed on.”

  I laughed a little, as if she were joking. It was nothing… it couldn’t be anything. This was a spur of the moment kind of thing. That was it…

  Lies.

  “I don’t feel shit. Not sure what you’re talking about?”

  That caused her to jerk her gaze up. Her eyes bolted to mine, and she slowly rose to a stand, narrowing her glare. “You don’t feel shit?”

  I shrugged. “No. I mean, we’re having fun, Lauren. That’s what you wanted, right?”

  “You don’t feel shit?” she asked again, this time with a hint of anger.

  I blinked. “What exactly am I supposed to feel?”

  “The same thing I do,” she said. “I know you feel it. You can’t sit there and tell me you don’t.”

  I swallowed thickly, looking away. Tears were building in her eyes, and I couldn’t will myself to keep looking at her. What the hell was her problem? One week with no strings or attachments was all she said. One week of pure fun. Nothing more. This was what we agreed on, and I damn sure wasn’t about to admit some shit I wasn’t even sure about.

  My head was fucking with me. Being around the same chick—a chick I’d wanted for over a year and was afraid of fucking things up with—for almost a week straight was screwing with my mind. Around her, I had no common sense. Sometimes that was good, but in this case, no. It was a horrible thing.

  Lauren scoffed, but I didn’t look at her. “You can’t even look at me. You know why? Because you know just as well as I do that this spark between us—whatever it is—has ignited. It can’t just be blown out, not that easily, whether you want to admit it or not.” She took a step back, and after a few uncomfortable seconds passed, she huffed a laugh. “But, hey, who cares, right? As a matter of fact, let’s pretend I never said that and just get rid of the entire idea, huh? It shouldn’t even be around, right? Bloody spark.”

  I looked up, and she was smiling. It spooked me out a little. “You’re overreacting, Princess. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  She paused, drawing in a deep breath through her nostrils. “You’re right,” she finally said. “I was overreacting. But that’s over and done with.” She squatted in front of me, running her hand across my cheek. Her actions took me by complete surprise, but I didn’t move. Yes, my eyes expanded, but I refused to move any other part of my body. Tilting her head, she smiled and said, “There’s this night club I’ve been meaning to go to. Let’s get back to the hotel, change, and then go out for a dance or two.”

  Her smile was sincere and her face content. Okay… she was confusing the fuck out of me. But she wasn’t bitching, crying, or moaning, and I was glad about that.

  “You aren’t… upset?”

  She smacked my arm playfully then rubbed it as if she’d actually harmed me. “No, silly. Why would I be upset?”

  Okay… I was starting to get seconds thoughts. This chick was acting bipolar as hell. “You were just talking about some spark, and now you wanna go out to a club and dance?”

  She grinned. “Yes.” She stood and tugged on my arm, pulling me up. “Trust me, I know the spark is there, but who knows,” she shrugged, “…maybe it’ll fade once our week is completely over—that is, if you don’t leave tonight.”

  “I’m not leaving tonight,” I said way too quickly.

  Her smile expanded even more. “Good.” She licked her lips and then stood on her toes to place her lips on my ear. She said, in a warm, breathy whisper, “Because I didn’t want you to. There’s so much more I want to do you to, Delray.”

  Holy. Shit.

  Those words were deadly. And a complete turn on. My cock pulsed in my jeans, and I ran my hands down her hips, but she immediately stopped me and lifted one finger to wave it. “Uh, uh… you have to wait.”

  I bit into my bottom lip, watching as she twirled around and trotted off, purposely swinging her hips in her palazzo pants. Her ass bounced with each step, and with each stride, I thundered in my boxers, wanting so badly to take her right on that grass in front of the pond.

  She was tempting me, luring me in and like the sucker I was, it was working. All that shit she was talking about with sparks and feelings had clearly gone down the drain. It was obvious she realized whatever this was between us was only happening so we could please our bodies. This had nothing to do with the mind.

  I was glad she came to the realization. I wasn’t up for that any of that serious bullshit.

  LAUREN

  Eleven

  I was a master at pretending.

  I knew myself, and I knew from the start that spending time with a guy like Montana Delray—a guy so familiar to me, yet so unique—was asking for something to fail. But like the fool I was, I fell right into my own trap. I was the one that set it up. I was the one that started all of this by hinting for him to come to California.

  I knew I should’ve kept my distance. I was being a fool, and worst of all, I was feeling. I hated feelings, but more than that, I hated trying to ward them off. In the park, something about his words stung me. I should’ve been glad to hear them come out of his mouth, but I wasn’t. To know that he wasn’t feeling what I felt and to see the serious look on his face that proved he might not have felt anything was a slap in the face. Yeah, he could’ve been wearing his poker face, but when it came to him, it never really seemed like he hid anything. He usually put it all out in the open.

  I was upset without a doubt, so upset that I wanted to make him jealous. I wanted his true colors to show. What better way to do that than go to a night club where there were plenty of guys that loved getting a dance and plenty of guys that were ready to buy me a drink and mingle?

  It was immature at best, but it had to happen. I had to figure out Montana’s true feelings. I wasn’t crazy. Something between us was happening—something I was terribly afraid of yet wanted so badly to figure out.

  The club was perfect. Neon lights swirled around the room, and the bar was abuzz a plethora of men, all eager to drop some cash on drinks to win a dance. All I needed was one hot, hopeful, guy to get this plan in check.

  Turning in Montana’s direction, I said over the techno beat, “I’ll go get us some drinks. You stay here.” I pointed at the table, and he glanced at it. Looking from the table to the bar, he narrowed his brows, probably realizing there were way too many guys around, but like he always did, he nodded and pretended he wasn’t bothered.

  “Sure. Hurry back, though.”

  I nodded, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. I turned on my heels and pushed through the crowd. I couldn’t fight my smirk. I was being a bitch, and I knew it. This plan of mine had better work. I didn’t want it to backfire on me. Deep down, I liked Montana as a person, and getting on his bad side permanently, wasn’t what I wanted.

  The chatting grew louder as I finally r
eached the bar. There was an empty stool at the end, and I went for it, pulling it back and taking a seat. The bartender tended to three people before getting to me. Once he came my way, I ordered two scotches on the rocks, and as he prepared the drinks, I strummed my fingers on the counter, taking a look around.

  My eyes landed on Montana who had his nose buried in his phone. The glow of the screen made his features stand out, especially his piercings. He’d pulled his hair up into spikes, the bright orange ends standing out like fire. He looked hot, and while looking at him, guilt gnawed at my insides.

  I couldn’t do this to him. He admitted to having fun with me—hell, he said it’d been one hell of a week. Why ruin that just because his feelings didn’t match mine. I was a female, and females always overanalyzed things. We made an agreement, and like the loyal guy he was, he was sticking to it. Hell, if anything, he was making this easy for me.

  The bartender slid the drinks my way, and I sighed, placing some cash on the counter, grabbing the drinks, and stepping off the stool. As I walked around the crowd and neared our table, my heart failed to beat. I mean the beats literally got lost with the bass of the music. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, and my gut churned with unrest.

  At the table sat Montana, and across from him was a blonde. She was smiling widely at him, and he was returning the pleasantries. His posture changed; he was laid back in the chair with his arms on the back, his legs spread wide apart. I knew that pose… it was his flirting pose. The fucker was flirting!

  I couldn’t let it get to me. For all I knew, she could’ve been a fan of the band. I had to remember he was famous, and girls came at him left and right. While we were together, though, Montana was hardly pointed out. This was the first time a girl had come to him… and he wasn’t going to let her off the hook without a few words. Not Montana.

  Keeping myself in check, I drew in a deep breath and finished my walk towards the table. I purposely slammed his drink down, causing some of the brown liquid to spill on the table. “Oops,” I murmured. “Sorry.” Montana jolted, meeting my solid glare. Once he realized I was a bit on edge, his face relaxed, and he sighed.