Beach Reads Boxed Set

by Marie Force

“What?”

  “That this, between us, is… I don’t know how to put it.”

  “Unexpected, even if we’ve both known there was something going on for a long time?”

  “Yes,” she says, seeming astounded by my summary. “Exactly that.”

  “I can only speak for myself when I say that this, between us, is something I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. But the time was never right.”

  She frowns and looks down at her glass. “Because I married Wayne.”

  “Among other things. I was so overwhelmed with everything after my dad died that I wasn’t exactly ready for anything serious either. I’m still not sure that’s what I see for myself, even now.” I fear that maybe the statement is a little too revealing.

  “Could I ask you something?”

  “Anything you want.” I continue to play with her hair as we talk.

  She takes a bite of cake and then feeds one to me. “If your dad hadn’t died, would you have come home to Marfa after college?”

  The question takes me by surprise. I’ve never spoken to my friends about what I’d planned to do before fate intervened. My father was the only one at home who knew what I’d planned to do after college. He and I agreed to keep the details to ourselves until I made my decision. But he died before any decisions could be made. I’m unprepared to talk to her about this. Do I tell her the truth or some version of it?

  “If it’s too hard for you to talk about, you don’t have to,” she says, apparently tuning in to my distress.

  “It was a long time ago now. What does it matter?”

  “If it matters to you, it matters to me.”

  “You’re so sweet,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss her. “So incredibly sweet.” And sexy and smart and funny and talented. She’s all those things and so much more.

  “That’s nice of you to say, but you didn’t answer my question.”

  Sighing, I lean my head back on the sofa. As much as I might wish to avoid this topic, I can’t start lying to her now, not with so much at stake. “I had no plans to come home to Marfa before my father died.”

  “What were you going to do?”

  “I had applied for jobs in Austin, San Antonio and Houston.”

  She’s silent for a long moment, so long that I wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake by being so honest. “That must’ve been a terrible disappointment on top of such a crushing loss.”

  Leave it to Lauren to perfectly summarize it. “Yeah,” I say gruffly.

  “Do you have any idea how much we all admire you for what you’ve done for your family since your dad died?”

  “I did what anyone would do under the circumstances.”

  “No, Garrett, you did way more than most people would do, and you’ve never complained. That’s so admirable. All your friends think so.”

  Never complained? I want to laugh at that because I feel like all I do is complain, but never to others. I keep my thoughts to myself so there’s no chance of my resentment and discontent ever getting back to my mother. She didn’t sign on for this situation any more than I did.

  “That’s nice of you to say. My dad used to tell me you have to play the hand you’re dealt. That’s what I’ve tried to do.”

  “You’ve played it very well.”

  Her sweetness and support present a further test of my intention to stick to the plan I put together for tonight and the rest of the week. I cup her cheek and gaze into her eyes. Then I dip my head to kiss her jawline on the way to her ear. I love that she quivers from my touch.

  I put my glass on the coffee table and take hers to put it next to mine. “Come here.” I reach for her and bring her onto my lap, where she can no doubt feel what her closeness has done to me. The skin on her leg is so soft against the palm of my hand. She is temptation personified, especially when I remember my request for her to be bare under her dress. Even with all my well-intentioned plans, I can’t let that treasure go to waste. I look up from my study of her long, toned legs to find her watching me intently. “What’re you thinking?”

  “I’m actually trying to figure out what you’re thinking,” she says.

  “How so?”

  “This evening isn’t unfolding the way I expected it to.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “For one thing, I didn’t expect lobster or champagne or flowers from my shop or chocolate cake.”

  “What else?” I continue to caress her leg, letting my hand wander a little higher with each careful stroke.

  “I figured we’d be naked in your bed by now.”

  Her refreshing bluntness is an instant turn-on, even if I’m already incredibly hot for her. “Are you disappointed that we aren’t?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No.”

  I laugh at that and let my hand wander up to grasp a firm ass cheek, squeezing until she moans.

  “Garrett,” she says, breathless.

  “Hmm?”

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Touching you.”

  “Let’s go in your room.”

  I shake my head. “Right here.”

  Her groan goes straight to my cock, sending an electrical current from my balls straight up my spine. I ought to be sainted for my unprecedented show of self-control. I’ve never before denied myself like this sexually, and I’m not entirely sure I have the willpower to follow through with my plan. She’s just so fucking tempting.

  I kiss her again, this time going for broke rather than teasing or flirting. Before this night is over, I want her to have no doubt that I want her badly, that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make her see there is absolutely nothing wrong with her. Another thing my father used to tell me is that anything worth doing is worth doing right. Lauren is definitely worth doing, and I’m determined to do her right this time.

  Without breaking the kiss, I ease her down to the sofa until she’s flat on her back and I’m leaning over her. In this position, our kiss takes on new desperation as we strain to get as close to each other as we possibly can. Her fingers comb through my hair, holding me in place while she grinds against me, every move of her hips leaving no doubt in my mind that I could have her right here and now if I wanted. I want. I want so badly, it’s become a craving, a yearning so deep that I’ve begun to think I’ll never fully sate the need I have for her.

  It would be so easy to give in, but the fear of the same thing that happened last time happening again helps me refocus on the goal for tonight—her pleasure and only her pleasure. I ease the spaghetti straps of her dress off her shoulders and down her arms, which makes it so she can’t move her arms as I take in the rigid peaks of her bare breasts.

  I want to spend a year doing nothing but worshiping Lauren’s spectacular breasts, but for now, an hour will have to do. Intent on drawing out the suspense—and the pleasure—in every way possible, I begin with gentle caresses of her supple flesh, avoiding the tight tips for now. I’ll come back to them later. I can tell she’s surprised that I’m not in any rush, and I can tell when it dawns on her that there’s not going to be any quick gratification for either of us.

  A word about her spectacular breasts—they are big and perfectly shaped with light brown nipples that darken in color when she’s aroused. That’s something I learned the first time we did this. I also found out her breasts are incredibly sensitive, and if I handle them just right, I might be able to make her come from nothing more than intense devotion to her gorgeous breasts. Tonight, I’m out to test that hypothesis.

  She squirms under me, pressing the heat of her core against my cock.

  Despite my resolve, that move gets my attention and has me wishing I were less devoted to my goddamned plan. I kiss between her breasts, under them, around them, basically driving her crazy if the sounds she makes are any indication.

  By the time I run my tongue over the tip of her left nipple, her eyes have glazed over and her bottom lip is swollen from being trapped between her
teeth. She almost levitates off the sofa as I tongue her rigid flesh. For the longest time, that’s all I do—slide my tongue back and forth while she writhes beneath me, making me as crazy as I seem to be making her.

  This is what I wanted, to drive her mad and take her brain out of the equation, to make her forget that her old pal Garrett now has her tit in his mouth. I want her so hot and so bothered that she doesn’t know her own name, let alone mine. As I close my teeth over her nipple and give it a gentle tug, I can see—and hear—that my goal is within reach.

  She screams, and I suck hard on her nipple while pinching the other one between my fingers. I keep that up, switching back and forth from one side to the other for quite a while, so long that I lose track of time. My whole world has been reduced to Lauren’s breasts and the rhythmic press of her hot pussy against my cock. If I’m driving her out of her mind, she’s doing the same to me.

  Drawing her left nipple into my mouth again, I run my tongue over the tip as I apply deep suction, all while pinching the right nipple harder than I have up to now.

  She detonates, screaming and pulling my hair and bucking up against my cock, which is seriously pissed off with me for keeping him penned up when he could be plunging into her wet heat right now.

  “Garrett,” she gasps, loosening her hold on my hair ever so slightly.

  I continue to suck on her nipple while gently twisting the other one.

  “Please, Garrett…” She pulls on the buttons to my shirt, and one of them pings off the coffee table. Then her hands are on my chest and abdomen and pulling on my belt.

  I didn’t plan to let my cock out of solitary confinement tonight, but I’m unable to summon the fortitude to stop her from unbuttoning and unzipping me. The feel of her warm hand wrapped around my cock nearly does me in. But then she uses her other hand to push my pants down over my hips, and that’s when I again recall that I told her to leave the underwear at home. Now there’s absolutely nothing standing between me being inside her.

  Time for retreat. It pains me greatly to put my hand over hers and remove it from my cock as I slide down lower on the sofa, until I’m positioned between her legs.

  Her low growl of frustration makes me smile as I press kisses to her inner thigh, which trembles madly under my lips. This is going better than I expected. She’s already had one orgasm, and I’m looking for another one when I push her dress up and over her hips, leaving her bare to me from the waist down. Fucking hell… She’s so wet, her sex glistens from the moisture that’s gathered there. I dive in like a starving man, licking and sucking and plunging my tongue into her. She’s so incredibly sweet and responsive, rocking against me as she moans and cries out every time my tongue circles her clit.

  Her grip on my hair is borderline painful, but I don’t let that deter me from my goal of coaxing another orgasm from her. I push two fingers into her, stroking into her as I draw her clit into my mouth. It takes about ten seconds of that combination to send her flying once again. Success! Already this has gone two thousand percent better than the first time. As her internal muscles clamp down on my fingers, it’s all I can do to hold on to my own need to come as hard as she is. But tonight is about her and only her. I bring her down slowly, sliding my fingers into her gently and running my tongue over her pulsating clit.

  When I finally withdraw from her, she quivers from head to toe. As I wipe my face on the sleeve of my shirt, I notice the red dress is bunched around her belly, her nipples are tight and red from the attention I paid them, her eyes are closed, her face is flushed with color and her lips are parted. Sated Lauren is the most stunning sight I’ve ever laid eyes on. I press a kiss right above her pubic bone, and she jolts under me. I love how sensitive she is after she comes. I kiss each of her breasts and then find her lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

  “Garrett…”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are we going to… Do you want to…”

  “Fuck you? Hell, yes, I want to. But that’s not happening tonight.”

  Her eyes open, and she blinks, as if to bring me into focus. “Why?”

  “Because tonight is all about you and making you feel good.”

  “But—”

  I kiss the words off her lips. “Trust me?”

  “Yes, but—”

  I kiss her again. “We’re not on any deadline. I want to take my time and make sure we get it totally right.”

  “That felt totally right to me.”

  Smiling down at her, I say, “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Don’t you want some of what you gave me?”

  So bad I can barely breathe for wanting it—and her. “Not tonight.”

  In the scope of one second, she transforms from satisfied to angry. She pushes me away and sits up, tugging at the bodice of her dress to cover her breasts and dragging the hem down to cover her ass. “I’d like to go home, please.”

  “Lauren, listen—”

  She refuses to look at me. “I don’t want to listen. I want to go home.”

  “I want to do this right, not fast, Lo. Don’t be mad.” I reach for her hand, but she pulls it out of my grasp. Shit. “Lauren, we’re not leaving here until we talk about this.”

  “What’s there to talk about? I want to have sex. You don’t. I get it.”

  Incredulous, I say, “Is that what you think?” I grab her hand and press it to my still-hard cock. “Does that feel like I don’t want to have sex?”

  “It feels like a hard dick. How am I supposed to know what it means? If you don’t want me, all you have to do is say so. There’s no need to play this big game.”

  I take a deep breath to ensure I don’t lose my shit with her, which wouldn’t help anything. “I want you so bad, I burn with wanting you. I think about you and what you look like naked and how badly I fucked up that first night with you all the goddamned time.”

  She stares at me, seeming stunned by my outburst.

  “This has nothing to do with me not wanting you and everything to do with not wanting to fuck up the second chance you’ve given me.”

  After a long moment, she finally blinks. “Wh-what about the second chance you’ve given me?”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that things went bad between us the first time because of me, not you?”

  “No.” I say that single word as emphatically as possible. “That has never once occurred to me.”

  “Well, it should.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because.” She swallows so hard, I can see her throat working. “I’ve been told before that…”

  “What have you been told before?” I’m angry, and she hasn’t even said it yet.

  “That sex isn’t my… Well, that I’m not very good at it.”

  In a state of total shock, I stare at her, my mouth hanging open for a second until I snap it shut. “Who told you that?” I ask through gritted teeth. I can’t recall the last time I’ve been as fucking mad as I am right now.

  She backs away from me, subtly, but I notice.

  The anger recedes as fast as it flared. “Sweetheart, don’t do that. Don’t be afraid of me. I couldn’t bear it.”

  “I-I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Come here.” I reach for her and draw her into my embrace. With her head on my chest and my arms wrapped tight around her, I try to find the words I need to reassure her. “Who told you that you’re not very good at sex?”

  “Who do you think?”

  I want to find Wayne Peterson and strangle the life out of him, but I contain that urge because rage is not the emotion she needs from me right now. “Let me assure you that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “How do you know that? The only time we ever did it was a disaster. We both thought so.”

  “He was wrong.” I make an effort to keep the rage out of my tone. “You’re very good at it.” My fin
gertips slide down her arm, raising goose bumps on her skin. “You know what turns me on more than anything else?”

  “What?” she asks, sounding breathless again.

  “When something I do makes a woman come the way you did twice tonight. That’s the ultimate turn-on for me. So you see, you’re actually incredibly good at it as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Why’d you stop, then?”

  “Because I want to build the anticipation so when we finally get to the main event, there’s no chance anything can go wrong. We went from being the best of friends to jumping into bed together, and it didn’t work. We need a little transition time.”

  “Is that what tonight was? Transition time?”

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  “Will you do something for me?”

  “Anything.”

  “Will you clue me in on the plan so I know what to expect and what not to expect?”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “So what happens next?”

  “Now, I take you home and we make plans for tomorrow night.”

  She rolls her lip between her teeth. “Do I have to go home?”

  “You want to stay?”

  Nodding, she says, “As long as you don’t mind getting up early to meet the five a.m. flower delivery at the shop.”

  I groan dramatically, which makes her laugh. “I guess I can do that if it means I get to sleep with you.” Grasping her hand, I get up from the sofa and tug her along with me as I lock up, shut the lights off and go into my bedroom. Alarm bells sound in my brain. Sleeping together tonight was most definitely not part of the plan, but I lack the fortitude to say no to her when she asks me for something. If I were thinking straight, I’d realize I ought to be far more worried about that than anything else.

  “This is really nice,” she says, taking in the dark wood furniture, fireplace, sitting area and artwork in my bedroom. “Are those Honey’s?” she asks of the framed photographs.

  “Of course. You’ve seen this room before.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “I can’t believe that with all the cookouts and pool parties we’ve had here.”

  “I’ve never been in here.” With a teasing smile, she adds, “I hear there’s often a line out the door to gain access.”