by Hayes, Lane
“Fuck, you feel so good,” I said in a worshipful tone.
“So do you, baby. Move for me. That’s it.” He caressed my inner thighs as I rocked, setting a languid pace I knew wouldn’t last long. We were both too keyed up and while laughter provided a release of sorts, it wasn’t what we really wanted.
I jacked myself with my left hand, smearing precum over the head as I rode him. When he bucked upward, I let go of my cock to check my balance, accidentally wiping my damp hand on his right pec. He held my wrist and made sure I was watching him before he licked my palm. The gesture seemed chivalrous in a warped way, but it was charged with a carnal quality that made my heart race and my ass clench in anticipation. If I knew him as well as I thought, he was about to take over. And when he did, there would be nothing polite or cautious here. I couldn’t fucking wait. I tweaked his nipples hard and groaned hungrily when his nostrils flared.
“Do you like that? Or do you want this instead?” I swiped more precum from my tip then pressed my thumb to his lips.
I was flat on my back before I knew what hit me. I didn’t have a chance to do anything more than throw my arms around his neck and hold on tight as he fucked me relentlessly. Gone was my laid-back surfer dude. Zane had the looks and temperament now of his Viking ancestors. He drove his tongue into my mouth, licking, sucking and twisting with a fervor while he pumped his hips wildly. He was lost in a passionate frenzy and he demanded I keep up. I tugged his hair then pulled my legs against my chest to give him room to move. I was vaguely aware of someone who sounded like me chanting a constant litany of, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”
Zane responded immediately. The bed creaked and shook with the steady thumping and the sound of our bodies moving toward a breathtaking release. He slid his hand between us to reach for my cock. I knew the moment he touched me, it would be over.
“I’m gonna—”
“Wait for me, Er. Wait ’til I tell you. Can you do that?”
I gritted my teeth and tightened my muscles around his length. “I’m trying, but…”
“Come now,” he commanded.
I did. And he was right there with me.
Our simultaneous releases amplified the heady thrill and made every nerve ending in my body tingle. Zane scooped me in his arms and held me close, trembling and panting for air. I was in the same state and though we’d been here before, I had a fleeting thought: this was a first. This connection was somehow intensified, making me feel stronger and I knew without saying a word that he felt it too.
I might not have opened my mouth but I couldn’t stop my smile from taking over my face when Zane rolled to his side. He returned my grin and chuckled.
“You look mighty pleased with yourself.”
“I am.” My sigh of contentment turned to a wince when I laid my hand on the mess of sweat and semen on my stomach.
“Stay here. I’ll grab a towel.” Zane kissed me quickly then hopped out of bed and strode toward the bathroom.
I sat up to survey the wreckage. It wasn’t too bad but the sheets definitely needed to be changed. Zane was back with two damp washcloths a moment later. He handed me one then made a production of cleaning his chest and spent penis before tossing his used washcloth in the general direction of the bathroom. Then he reached for the water bottle on the nightstand and took a long drink. He offered me some but when I shook my head, he finished it with gusto. He waggled his eyebrows then crushed the plastic bottle and shot it in the general direction of the trashcan and raised his arms triumphantly when it went in.
I chuckled at his antics, but I wasn’t overly surprised when he made a mad dash for the bed, flying at me Superman-style. He landed to my right and immediately grabbed me around my middle and dragged me against his side…through the wet spot. I yelped and then clung to him, rolling us in the opposite direction.
“You’re a goofball,” I admonished with a sappy smile.
“And you…you wrecked me. I need a nap. Shh.” He put his forefinger to his lips and closed his eyes, managing to look angelic and fierce at the same time.
I slipped my left leg over his and briefly laid my head on his chest then traced a lazy circle around his nipple. He swatted my hand and made a humming noise that roughly translated to “I’m tired.”
“No sleeping. We need breakfast. I’m starving.”
“Hmm. Me too. Let’s grab another shower and head downstairs. They have a nice café here. We can sit outside and watch the boats. What d’ya say?” he asked, suddenly sounding excited.
“You want to eat here? It’s kinda stuffy. Let’s go back to that diner you love on PCH. The one that serves all-you-can-eat pancakes and bacon.”
Zane grinned. “Lemmie’s. I love that place, but I can’t today. I told Dean I’d meet him to talk boats, remember? He said he’s working on a sloop docked here so it makes more sense to—”
“Dean?” I let out a disgruntled sigh before lying on my back. Fuck. Just when I thought my morning had turned around.
“Hey.” Zane propped himself on his elbow and furrowed his brow. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Go with Dean. Go surf, go look at boats, go do your thing. I’ll read or work or go find something else to do.”
Zane didn’t respond right away. The longer the silence went on, the sillier I felt. He finally inched forward and observed me cautiously as though concerned my body had been taken over by aliens, which honestly may have been the case. I didn’t feel like myself. Or at least not my adult self.
“You have no reason to be jealous, Er. I haven’t seen Dean in years. We were close friends once, but—”
“He wants to be close again. Real close.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.
“No, it’s not,” I countered maturely. “I saw the way he looked at you and he couldn’t stop touching you. Under his ‘Hey bro, we’re totally chill’ surfer vibe, he’s wondering how to make the most of your visit and get back in your pants. He’s single and—”
“And I’m not. I’m engaged to an extraordinary guy who’s inexplicably battling low self-esteem and confidence issues for no apparent reason whatsoever. What’s gotten into you? Do you really think so little of my integrity?”
“Of course not. But he’s…”
“What?”
“I can’t explain it. I can just tell he’s got an agenda. And even if he didn’t want you, which he does…he has a trifecta going against him. He’s from here, he’s your ex, and he’s helping you purchase a boat for Don Carrigan, who hates my company. See? Totally reasonable,” I exclaimed, rolling sideways to sit at the edge of the mattress.
“No. Totally crazy.” Zane circled his arm around my waist and pulled me back toward him. “First of all, my business with Don doesn’t touch us. We talk boats. That’s all. If I thought he was using our relationship to hurt you, I’d cut ties immediately. Dean and I screwed around as teenagers, which makes us ancient history.”
I took a deep breath, intending to blast him with ten or more arguments to back up my case against Dean. I hadn’t been nominated president of every debate team I’d been on because of my looks, for crying out loud. This was my gift. My parents still lamented that I hadn’t followed in their footsteps and gone to law school. I would have been a great litigator.
But when I looked at the man I loved more than life itself and definitely more than I loved winning a good argument, I realized none of it mattered. This town, ex-lovers, or his client who might or might not have it out for EN Tech…I was allowing myself to be distracted by static noise and a resurgence of childhood insecurities that had no place in our lives. In short, I was grossly out of line.
I released my pent-up angst in a rush of air. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”
“Hmm. I want to drop this, but…I have one last question. What did you mean about ‘being from here’? I know San Francisco is home now, but this is a nice place too. I always thought it would be kind of c
ool to move back someday so I could—”
“No. No way. Never,” I replied emphatically.
I tried and failed again to make a getaway. Zane pounced on me and held me down, snaking his arm across my chest to keep me next to him.
“O-kay…where’s this coming from?”
“I can’t explain it. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“It sounds stupid.” I met his patient gaze, hoping he’d cut me some slack, but he didn’t budge and I had a feeling he wouldn’t until I spit it out. “Fine. I was teased pretty mercilessly for being a geek from kindergarten through high school. I never fit in. I wasn’t blond, athletic, or particularly charming. I was smart. Smarter than I appear to be now,” I huffed.
“Who bullied you? I’m gonna kick some ass. No one messes with my man,” he said, nuzzling my neck.
I chuckled, running my fingers along his spine. “Thanks. I told you it sounded lame. I’m a perfectly well-adjusted adult when I’m not here. And I’m actually pretty good when I come for quick family visits, but this feels different. It feels like I’m being thrown back in time and forced to hang out with the cool kids. Today was a great example. I made a fool of myself out there and I made you mad. Yeah, I was jealous but that was only part of it. I also wanted to prove I’d grown up a little and that I wasn’t the same sunscreen-caked dork who’d sit under an umbrella and read when he went to the beach anymore. I guess I still am.”
“You seem to be forgetting one major detail, Er.”
I traced the laugh-lines at the corner of his eyes and pushed his hair from his forehead. “What is it?”
“I like you just the way you are. I don’t expect you to change and develop a sudden passion for things I enjoy doing. Just be you. And if that means you’d rather lounge in the sand and read than jump in the water, that’s okay by me.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. It comes with the territory. I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life with you if I didn’t love all your weird habits,” he teased, pulling us both to sit up.
“Weird? Me? I bet you can’t name three weird things about me,” I declared as I sauntered toward the bathroom.
“I bet I can name ten. I’ll give you my list at breakfast. Jump in the shower while I call housekeeping and ask them to change our sheets.”
I stopped in the doorway and frowned. “Just tell them I spilled water on them or something.”
“Why lie? I’m going to tell them my boyfriend got jizz on my side of the bed and…”
I shook my head mournfully and turned on the shower to drown out his silly speech about being stuck with a messy lover and crusty sheets. I chuckled at his put-upon tone and called for him to join me before stepping under the spray. I stopped abruptly and backed up to look at my reflection. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes were bright, and my smile spanned my entire face. I was incredibly happy and if I said so myself, it looked good on me.
Chapter 5
The rest of our weekend passed without mishaps or misplaced jealousy on my part. At least I did my best. I accompanied Zane and Dean on their boat search expedition because it seemed like a healthier option than sitting at the hotel wondering if I’d convinced myself that Dean had a crush on my fiancé and what that said about me. I traipsed behind them, tuning out endless dialogue about the integrity of a sailboat’s mainsail and jib. As Zane’s boyfriend, I’d learned more than I cared to admit about a sailor’s lexicon over the past few months. I followed their conversation easily and made sure to weigh in if asked, but I found myself zoning out and concentrating on Dean.
Dean wasn’t necessarily flirtatious, but he was handsy. The kind of overly friendly guy who constantly fist-bumped, shoulder-grabbed, and occasionally stood a little too close. It may have been a personality quirk but it bugged me. And what got me more was that I noticed stupid things like when he left his hand on Zane’s elbow a beat too long. Annoying habits aside, I might have lost interest sooner if I hadn’t caught his scrutinizing once-over a couple of times. He was probably mystified by the twist of fate that landed hot, popular, former star water polo player with the town geek. Not my problem. Dean’s opinion of me, good or bad, wasn’t my concern. Zane didn’t give me much of a chance to spin on it either way. He made a point of including me in every discussion and asking for my opinion as though it might influence his decision-making.
He performed the same magic with my parents at Sunday brunch. Truthfully, he didn’t have to try hard. My folks loved all my friends, but they’d always had a soft spot for Zane. He was effortlessly friendly. I didn’t know many people who could inquire after a recent Caribbean cruise and compliment everything from my mom’s haircut to my dad’s weight loss without sounding like a kiss-ass. Zane was definitely one of them.
* * *
A month later, my mother was already asking when we’d be back. Zane had made a couple of quick trips south with Don Carrigan in between races to look at a few boats Dean and he had scouted out, but there was no way I could justify another trip with my current workload and a wedding to plan. We were less than three months away from our big day. It was time to focus.
Though I had to admit, the occasional night vegging in front of the television with friends was nirvana.
I threw a bag of pretzels at Josh and then handed Grant and him a beer.
“Ow?” Josh glowered without heat and rubbed his head for effect. “Where’s your drink? Come on, man, the Giants are finally winning. Get into the spirit.”
Josh gestured toward our large flat-screen and adjusted his baseball cap as though it was proof he was rooting for the home team.
Josh was a little taller and leaner than me but in all other ways, we were kind of alike. He had brown hair and brown eyes and pleasant features, but neither of us was going to be asked to pose in GQ, like Grant, who had in fact modeled for several fashion magazines. Grant was six two and gorgeous with a capital G. He was a former underwear model turned clothes designer who’d recently been coerced to help with his family’s real estate business. Grant was still dressed in his suit, though he had slipped off his coat and lost the tie when he walked in with Josh, who like me, wore holey jeans and an old tee.
“I’ll grab my wine now,” I said. I picked up my wineglass from the kitchen island and then made my way back to the great room. I perched my ass on the corner of the sofa next to Grant, who looked equally engrossed with the 1-0 score flashing on the TV screen. “Do you guys want me to order Mexican tonight? I’m tired of pizza.”
“Who even says that?” Josh asked with a frown. “Real people never get tired of pizza. But yeah, I love Mexican too. And both work with my budget. I’m buying tonight!”
Grant quirked his brow and raised his bottle in a toast. “What’s the occasion, big spender?”
“No occasion. It’s just my turn. Though…I may have been asked to help with the new installation at the Modern,” Josh singsonged.
Josh was a junior curator at the Modern Museum downtown. We all knew he loved his job, but he was the first to say it was a good thing he loved the museum because he spent a lot of time running errands and writing grants all day. Helping with an actual installation was big news.
“Congratulations!” Grant and I exclaimed.
“Thanks. I’m excited. Let’s order soon though. I’m hungry. When is Zane gonna be home? And where’s Nick been lately? He didn’t pick up his cell all weekend,” Josh said.
“Zane should be here soon and Nick…” I took a sip of wine and then cradled my glass protectively. “He’s hot on a new project. I couldn’t get him to take a break from the lab. You know how he gets.”
Grant rolled his eyes. “We all know how Nick gets. Somebody better check on him to make sure he’s eating, sleeping, and not wearing the same clothes for days on end. Again.”
“Don’t worry. Between Barb, Miles and me, we look after him,” I assured my friends. “Lately, it’s around the clock. His obsessive-compulsive tendenci
es have only gotten worse since he ended his engagement with Lisa. Now he’s tipped into paranoia. He thinks Lisa’s dad is sabotaging us through Zane.”
“What the fuck?” Grant’s brow creased in confusion.
I explained our friend’s latest theory involving Don Carrigan hiring Zane to help him purchase a sailboat as a means of getting to EN Tech. “On one hand, it’s pretty convoluted, but I can’t help thinking Nick’s right about staying on our toes. It’s hard to know who you can trust anymore.”
“Maybe so, but you both know you can trust Zane. He’s not going to let Lisa’s dad take advantage of him. Especially not if Carrigan wants to harm you,” Grant said before tipping his beer bottle back.
Josh nodded. “The only reason it seems odd is because of Zane’s profession. Most people think of sailing as a social, good time sport or something you do with buddies on weekends. We all know the guy works his ass off and that he isn’t necessarily chummy with every person he either sells a boat to or sails with in a race. Maybe Nick needs a reminder that Zane had a working relationship with Carrigan before he asked Lisa to marry him,” Josh huffed before adding, “You know, if Z was an accountant, this wouldn’t be an issue.”
“So he should change professions?” Grant snarked.
I chuckled when Josh threw a pretzel at Grant’s head. “Nick knows all that. It’s just…personal, you know? A close friend, almost-father-in-law and the company you co-founded and built from scratch. He knows he can trust two out of three for sure, but the one he can’t trust keeps him up at night. In a way, I get it. I wish Zane would find the fucking boat already and be done with this. I’m tired of worrying about Nick and Don and Zane and Dean and—”
“Wait. Dean? He’s the old high school buddy, right?” Josh asked.
“Yeah. I barely knew him back then ’cause he was two years ahead of us, but I knew his sister. She was sweet, but Dean…he was too cool. He still is. I’m trying to be mature here, but I get this vibe from him that makes me feel like I’m a sixteen-year-old dork again. Every time I see him, I notice it. Thankfully, it’s not often but he came up north to test-drive a boat with Zane last weekend. It was a surprise visit. At least I was surprised to find him sitting at my island drinking my alcohol like he fucking owned the place. He had the nerve to put a beer bottle on my wedding planner. If that damn book wasn’t busting at the seams with information, I’d replace it. He left a fucking ring on it!” I sounded like a pouty brat but I figured these guys wouldn’t hold it against me when I added, “I hate him.”