by S. M. Shade
My mouth falls open. “And psychopathic! What was the kid’s name? Jeffrey Dahmer?”
“I didn’t say he ate them,” he laughs.
“Actually, fireflies are cannibalistic. They sometimes eat each other.” Yeah, Kinley, that’s what a normal person would talk about, cannibalistic fireflies. Smooth.
“Hmm, beautiful and ferocious.” His gaze travels up my body. “Sounds familiar.”
Warmth runs over me from his compliment, and after hearing his story, it occurs to me he probably didn’t do a lot of the carefree childhood stuff I did. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him and hurry inside. It doesn’t take me long to find an empty jar in the hotel kitchen and punch some holes in it.
“What are you doing?” he asks when I return.
“We’re catching fireflies. Get up.”
To his credit, he doesn’t argue, just gets to his feet and follows me down off the deck. I make a right and lead him into the empty field. It’s not going to be difficult to catch them. They light up all around.
“Got one!” I cry, holding it carefully so I don’t squish it. “Open the jar.” I put the bug in, along with a chunk of wet grass.
He lays the lid on top without screwing it on, and places it on the ground. We take off in different directions after more. I’ve added maybe ten to the jar to his two. “Did we find something you aren’t good at?” I tease, as he returns with cupped hands.
“You’re about to eat those words. Help me out here so none escape.” I open the jar, and he opens his hands a bit over the top of it. A few drop in while more crawl around his knuckles, trying to escape. I brush them into the jar and keep my hands around his like a wall while he deposits about ten more inside.
Giggles spill out of me as two crawl across my palm, tickling me, and he smiles, his gaze locked on mine, our hands still touching. It’s one of those moments. It feels the same as last time, and I can’t help but look at the plump lips that felt so amazing on mine.
Until a firefly gets loose, lighting up just as it lands on his lip. He sputters, swatting it off while I step back, laughing. Moment killed. It’s probably a good thing. “You bully. Trying to eat a defenseless little firefly.”
I take the jar, and we head back toward the deck. “It’s not my fault that even bugs are attracted to me.” He flashes me a charming smile that women all over the country dream about.
I sit on the top step of the deck and place the jar beside me. The movement makes my bra shift a little and it catches on my nipple ring for a second, making me give a little gasp.
Holt looks at me, and I shrug. “Nipple ring caught on my bra.”
His jaw drops open. “You have your nipples pierced?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me see.”
“Fuck off,” I scoff, laughing at him.
“I’ll show you mine.”
“Yours aren’t pierced.”
He runs a hand over the back of his neck, smiling down at me. “No, but I’ll stick something through it right now.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Just sit down.”
“What do you want to do with them?” he asks, gesturing to the jar of fireflies, and taking a seat on the step below me.
“If we put a chunk of apple in, they’ll stay alive a couple of days, then we can release them. Half the fun is keeping the jar in your room at night, so you can watch them light up in the dark.”
We sit in silence for a bit, just enjoying the night. He leans back against the step I’m sitting on and the ends of his long hair brush my leg as the wind tosses them around. “How long have you been growing your hair?” I ask.
“Too long,” he groans. “I’m not supposed to cut it.”
“Says who?”
“Sully.” He glances up at me, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “Women like it.”
“That sucks. You shouldn’t have to maintain a certain hairstyle.”
He runs a hand through the dark locks. “You have to admit, it’s sexy though,” he teases, making his brows raise and drop in a goofy way.
“Stop fishing for compliments,” I laugh. A mist starts to roll in over the grounds, and I yawn. “I should get to bed.”
He nods and looks up at me. “I’m sorry your date got ruined.”
I’ve had a much better time with him tonight than I did with Campbell. “That’s okay. I’m not really worried about dating right now. My friends have been encouraging me. They mean well. I think they just want to know I’ve recovered from my dad’s death, that I’m getting back to normal.”
“It takes a while,” he says. “You’ll feel like everything is fine and then something will bring the grief back. But those moments get farther apart as time goes on. Don’t let anyone rush you into stuff you aren’t ready to do.”
His words are reassuring. He lost his mother suddenly, so he understands how I feel better than my friends do. “I’ve been thinking about the question you asked me, about whether running Foxhaven is my dream.”
He rests his arm on the step, and it presses lightly against my leg. “And?”
“I don’t know. I never considered anything else. I’m content here, but I’d kind of like to travel and see new things. I love the lake and our little beach, but I’ve never seen the ocean.”
He stands up, turning to face me. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” His stunned stare makes me self-conscious, and I pick at my shorts. “Dad was busy running the resort.”
“That’s a travesty. Everyone should see the ocean. Surely, you could take a week away.”
Shrugging, I pick up the jar and stand up. “I suppose I could, once I get the new manager broken in.” I give him a pointed look. “I’m kind of trapped here for a while now, you know, being a homewrecking slut and all.”
His lips stretch into a smile I can feel in my stomach. “I’m trapped too. We’ll just have to entertain each other.”
My mouth opens to provide an excuse, but I close it again. Why the hell not? I like him, and he clearly likes me. And he’s right. We’re both stuck in a situation we aren’t happy about. “I’m still not sleeping with you,” I reply with a smile.
“Nah.” He takes the jar of fireflies when I hand it to him. “We’ll be way too busy having orgasms.”
“Good night, Holt.”
“Night, bug.”
Despite the flirting and teasing, Holt behaves himself, and we spend the next few evenings together. As expected, new photos start making the rounds, one of which shows us in the hotel pool. I have to wonder who took that because it was almost one a.m. when he texted me to meet him there. Since I promoted the assistant manager to my old manager position and hired a new assistant manager to take her place, I’ve had a lot more time, and I don’t have to drag my ass out of bed early anymore.
None of the photos have been scandalous, since we haven’t done anything except spend time together, but I know his manager doesn’t like it. Holt couldn’t care less, so I’m not worried about it.
A folded piece of paper hangs on my office door when I go to open it.
You have been challenged to a duel.
Meet me at the gazebo at seven o’clock.
May the sexiest person win. -H
What the hell does he have planned? A duel? The guy has lost his mind. So why is there a smile on my face? My desk chair creaks as I take a seat and get out my phone to text him.
Me: A duel? Pistols at dawn?
Holt: At dusk. And if I win I get to see your nipple rings.
A thought suddenly occurs to me and I reply.
Me: Deal
Holt: Holy shit, really?
Me: See you at seven.
My day drags by because I’m eager to find out what kind of crazy thing he has in mind for a duel. Water guns maybe? A few minutes before seven, I’m standing in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear, when I send him another text.
Me: Am I going to get wet?
Holt: Don’t you always when you see me?
My next text is the middle finger emoji and he replies.
Holt: Later, if you win.
By the time I throw on a tank top and shorts, and make it down to the gazebo, I expect him to be waiting, but instead there’s another note on the steps.
Choose your weapon. You have two minutes to hide. Three strikes and you’re out.
Two large Nerf guns wait on the gazebo bench, along with a pile of foam darts. There’s no sign of him when I look around, so I grab the biggest gun and load it with darts, stuffing more in my pocket.
He’s still nowhere to be seen when I head out of the gazebo and into the woods. I get just far enough away to watch the gazebo and hide behind a tree. My plan is to ambush him when he goes to get his gun. Anticipation puts a smile on my face, and I fight the urge to laugh and give away my hiding spot.
A couple of minutes go by, and he still hasn’t showed at the gazebo to get his gun. A branch cracks behind me, and I turn just in time to see the foam dart before it bounces off my arm.
Where the hell did that come from? He didn’t even… Shit, he already has his gun. There was nothing saying he had to go to the gazebo to take the second gun. He tricked me. My head jerks back and forth, but I can’t see anything, and the only sound is the wind through the trees and a rumble of thunder in the distance.
He knows where I am, but I have no idea where he’s hiding. I step around the tree and take off. Excitement rushes through my bloodstream, and I feel like a kid again, running through the woods playing hide and seek. When I duck behind another tree, I see a flash of black. He should’ve tied his hair back because the increasing wind just gave him away.
Pretending I’m still looking around for him, I make my way closer to where he hides behind a copse of bushes. My finger waits on the trigger. When I’m just a few feet away, he fires at me, and I dodge it, then shoot two darts his direction. One bounces off his chest and the second taps his forehead.
“Head shot!” I cry, running again.
It’s not hard to follow me since I can’t stop laughing. Call me immature, but this is so much fun. I stop and crouch down behind a large cedar tree to catch my breath. I could swear I heard him right behind me when I was running, but he’s nowhere to be seen. As I’m trying to decide which way to run, a dart flies down and lodges in my hair.
My gaze follows its path up to where he sits on a branch a few feet away. The crazy bastard climbed a damn tree and just waited for me to step out.
Satisfaction is stamped on his face as he points his gun at me, and I point mine at him. “Not fair! I’m not a climber!” I laugh.
“Two to two,” he reminds me.
A crack of thunder breaks over our heads, and we both duck instinctively. “Get out of that tree before you get hit by lightning, you psycho!”
He grins down at me. “A duel then, back to back, at three paces.”
“Fine! Just get down!”
He climbs down, dropping to the ground in front of me, and another rumble of thunder rolls across the sky. It’s getting darker by the second. “Three steps, then shoot,” he says.
Giggling, I put my back to his and we count as I take the biggest steps I can.
“One, two, three,” we count together.
I turn and fire as fast as I can, but the asshole isn’t right in front of me. His last step was to the right and his dart nails me in the shoulder while mine falls to the ground.
“Cheater!”
He runs over to grab my hand, and we rush through the trees as a few drops start to fall. “I said three steps. Never said in what direction.”
“It’s going to pour. We’ll never make it back to the hotel in time,” I laugh, pulling him toward the gazebo. We barely step inside and the sky opens up.
He takes a seat on the bench and crosses his arms. “Okay, a deal is a deal. Let’s see them.”
My hands tuck into my pockets. “See what?”
“Don’t play coy with me. I won fair and square. I get to see your nipple rings.”
“Fine,” I sigh, pretending to be put out. A flash of lightning illuminates the eager expression on his face. One hand remains in my pocket as I slowly, inch by inch, start to raise my shirt. His gaze is locked on my chest, so it takes him a moment to realize I’ve pulled my hand out of my pocket and opened it in front of his face. Two tiny silver hoops lay in my palm.
Understanding dawns on his face and the corner of his mouth lifts. “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”
“What?” My face couldn’t be more innocent. “You said you wanted to see my nipple rings. Here they are. You can even touch them.”
In a flash, he’s on his feet, and I find myself with my back against the wooden beam in the center of the gazebo. His hips pin mine, and his soft hair sweeps down my cheek as he bends his neck to murmur in my ear. “You know that’s not what I want to touch.”
Heat races outward from my center, and any comeback I might’ve had is stuck in my scrambled brain. He’s everywhere, his firm body, the heat of his skin, his masculine scent. And I want to wallow in every bit of it.
His lips brush over my neck, and I shiver. When he brings his head back up, I can see the lust in his eyes. This man could have any woman he wants with the wave of his hand, but he wants me. I’ve never had someone look at me like he is, with hunger and longing. Before my brain can interfere and remind me why this isn’t a good idea, I bring my palm to his raspy jaw, and kiss him.
The feeling that shoots through me when he slips his tongue between my lips is so powerful it’s almost painful. Something snaps inside me, and I let go of any reservations or fear and just feel him. His hand wandering down my back to cup my ass, the way his hot breath dances across my skin when he starts kissing down my neck, his firm thigh lodged between my legs, every bit of him is a marvel to be explored.
I tug at his t-shirt, and he grabs the hem, pulling it off in one smooth movement. It’s dim, but not too dark to admire the lean, carved chest in front of me. My fingers can’t resist the scattering of dark hair across his chest, or the thin happy trail that starts just below his muscular abdomen.
A crack of thunder shakes the ground, but a tornado could wipe out the whole area right now and I wouldn’t notice.
He kisses me again while slipping his hands under my tank top. He cups my breast over my thin bra and runs his thumb across my nipple. I stiffen up a little when he starts to pull my shirt off.
“Someone might see.”
Pausing, he smiles at me. “Look around, bug. It’s pouring. And getting darker by the second.”
He’s right. Rain falls in sheets, pouring down around the gazebo like a curtain, throwing us into our own little hideaway. “I’m not having sex without a condom,” I tell him. I may be ready to throw my self-control out of the window, but I haven’t completely lost my common sense.
He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, removes his wallet, and pulls out a condom.
“Well, you just have an answer for everything don’t you?” I tease, and he chuckles.
I’m scooped up and carried to the large round bench in the center of the gazebo and I’m suddenly glad I thought to replace the cushions this summer.
His lips land on mine again, and any other random thoughts are extinguished as we undress each other. Our movements grow more frantic, touching, tasting, exploring one another with hands, lips, and tongues. I’m so worked up I almost come when he runs the tip of his finger over my clit.
I can feel his smile against my neck when I cry out. “I’m just getting started,” he murmurs in my ear, slipping a long finger inside me. Between that and his thumb rubbing circles on my clit, I’m gone. My eyes fall shut, and I squirm underneath him until I’m seized by an intense, pulsing orgasm that leaves me shaking.
He groans when I wrap my hand around his cock, and give it a few long, slow strokes. A hiss escapes him when I rub my thumb over the head, then just under it in the spot I know drives men crazy.
Grabbin
g the condom lying beside us, I rip it open, then slowly unroll it down his length, while staring into his dark gaze. He crawls over me as I lie back on the bench, and that orgasm has done nothing to quell how much I want him. It’s so surreal. Lying in my bed, I’ve thought about this, having his body looming over mine, and it’s just like I fantasized. A bulging bicep where he holds himself aloft on one arm, his hair hanging down around his face, his cock poised at my entrance.
His expression is strained as he asks, “Are you sure, bug?”
“Fuck me,” I breathe.
My words make him groan, and I join in as he pushes inside me in one firm stroke. The next moments are ones I know will stick with me my entire life. Thunder rumbles and rain falls all around us as he fucks me with steady, mind blowing strokes. He isn’t too rough or too easy, and we move together like we’ve done this a million times before.
He’s confident, graceful, and relentless. We shift positions, and he bends my knee up near my face, moving his hips at an angle while I grip his ass. “Yes, god, don’t stop.”
My head whips back and forth a few times as I try to handle all the sensation building so fast. He kisses me, then his voice is in my ear again. “I can feel you getting ready to come. Let it go.”
His words send me over, and I moan my way through the long pulsating waves that pull me under. His strokes grow uneven and frantic for a few seconds before he buries his face in my neck and finds his own release.
We lie like that for a minute, and I close my eyes, enjoying the buzz still running over my skin. Finally, he raises his head, gazes into my eyes, and drops a sweet, gentle kiss on my swollen lips. “You okay?”
“Better than okay,” I assure him.
The rain starts to let up, so we have to break the magic by getting dressed. He pulls me down onto his lap and wraps his arms around me. “I really like you, Kinley. Tell me this doesn’t have to be a one time thing.”