Take Me To The Beach

by K. L. Grayson, Karina Halle, A. L. Jackson, Marni Mann, Monica Murphy, Devney Perry, Kristen Proby, Rachel Van Dyken

  Technology though — had a way of zapping it, but timing wise, I had to finish the album first — I had to finish it, because if I didn’t wake up, if something happened…

  I wanted to have the music done, so maybe if I was a vegetable, maybe then I would still remember what it was like.

  To have music.

  And now.

  To have her.

  Because she was in every single song.

  Fallon

  The sun burst through the window casting a warm light across my bare arms. I slowly stretched my sore body and rubbed my eyes.

  Memories of the night before assaulted me over and over again causing a slow burn to start from my toes and spread all the way to my face.

  The things he said.

  The things we did.

  The way he touched me.

  I suppressed a nervous giggle.

  “Something funny?” An extremely — thank you, God — naked Zane was standing in the doorway, a cup of coffee in one hand, a marshmallow in the other, and an acoustic guitar hanging off the side of his body.

  I wasn’t really sure if I should laugh or just cry at the image of perfection standing in front of me, every rippled muscle on display for me to see.

  That was the thing about Zane.

  His secrets were his and his alone.

  But his body? It was as if he knew the mental barriers he put up and didn’t want to do the same with the physical ones, like it was all he had to share at times.

  And I respected that.

  Even though I didn’t quite fully understand it.

  “You,” I finally muttered in a sleepy voice. “Let me guess, marshmallow pancakes for breakfast?”

  He made a face. “Marshmallow waffles. Actually.”

  I scrunched up my nose. “Those are better how?”

  His face broke out into a grin as he took a sip of coffee. “Be a good girl and I’ll tell you.”

  “It’s too early for you.”

  His smirk was ridiculous, yet I couldn’t help but laugh and throw a pillow in his direction, hoping it would at least alleviate the giddiness in my chest that I was really there.

  In his hotel room.

  In his bed.

  And I had been the only one.

  A sense of rightness washed over me as I grabbed one of the blankets in an effort to cover myself.

  “No,” Zane said in a commanding voice.

  I looked up. “No, what?”

  “Morning time is naked time.” He took another slow sip. “No clothes.”

  “But—”

  “Nope.”

  I frowned and slowly stood, naked, on both feet. We’d had sex how many times? And I couldn’t stand in front of him naked? As sunlight streamed in and basically put a beam on every imperfection I had.

  “Happy?” I huffed.

  “I’m…” He tilted his head and smirked. “…very pleased, yes. Yourself?”

  “You have too much energy. What time is it anyway?”

  “Don’t cross your arms.”

  “Huh?” I crossed, uncrossed, crossed again, then clenched my fists. “I’m standing in front of you naked.”

  “My body and mind are both well aware of this awesome fact. Thanks for clarifying though, just in case there was any confusion.”

  I swallowed and looked down, body shaking a bit. “I’m not like you. I can’t just walk around naked and be okay with it — even with you.”

  “Yes, you can,” he said simply with a shrug. “Now, do you want waffles or not? I’m a pretty bad ass cook, and I figured since we were keeping each other and all, the least I could do is feed you.”

  My stomach growled.

  He tossed me a marshmallow.

  I caught it mid-air. “I’m going to develop diabetes if I keep eating all this sugar.”

  He waved me off with his cup. “Eh, you’ll be fine. There are worse things out there, trust me.” His expression sobered for a flicker of a second before the smile was back. “Now, I have some recording to do. And I may have promised Jay I’d meet him on set today for a small cameo.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “On set? With crowds?”

  “Come with me.” The words shot out of his mouth like a plea, his eyes darting back and forth between my mouth and my eyes. “Please?”

  “Can I wear clothes?”

  He put his coffee down on the nearby nightstand and pulled me into his arms. “If any man sees you naked like this, I’ll have to kill him, and I can’t have blood on my hands, prison isn’t for the likes of me.”

  “For the likes of you?”

  “Then again,” he looked thoughtful. “I bet my cousin would bail me out.”

  “Your cousin?”

  “Keep up, the really distant one, on my grandmother’s side, I think we’re like half cousins, whatever, she used to tease us that he was part of this huge mafia family and said if we didn’t eat all of our spinach she would send us to live with him.”

  I laughed. “That’s kind of mean.”

  “Right, but it got me to eat, and sometimes, there wasn’t a lot of food, and I was always worried she wouldn’t get enough.” His voice trailed off as a flicker of sadness dimmed his eyes.

  “So, have you met this cousin?” I asked, not as much curious as I needed a quick subject change since I knew he’d been doing a lot of sharing about his crappy past.

  Zane smirked. “Twice.”

  “And?”

  “He’s a scary mofo,” he said with a breathy half laugh. Then he released me and moved into the kitchen and started pulling out plates from the cupboard. “When I was little and then the second time was at one of my first worldwide tours, I had a stop in Chicago, and he was backstage afterward. I thought he was one of my new bodyguards. The guy was pretty big even by my standards.” As if to emphasize his point, Zane chose that moment to flex every muscle in his body and then wink.

  I wish I was the type of girl not to be affected by all that masculine beauty, but I’d tasted him, he’d been inside me, so I was more than affected, I was ready to sprint back to the bedroom and lock him in it. I twisted my hands in my lap and pretended to listen when all I could think about was where his tongue had been about three hours ago. “Really?”

  Zane licked his lips.

  I clenched my thighs and tried to swallow.

  With another grin, Zane placed a waffle on each plate, with a marshmallow on top and chocolate syrup over both. “Well?” He grabbed some whipped cream and dipped his finger in the top, sucking it off slowly.

  My legs tightened while my breathing came out a bit heavy.

  “He introduced himself, well not just him but the rest of the friends or crew he’d brought with them. And shock of all shocks, they each had a sidearm. Just out in public, in Chicago, like it wasn’t a big deal. I mean it wasn’t Texas, you know? And what other reason would they have for carrying weapons? Even one of the girls, when she knelt down to pick up an autographed poster that a little girl had dropped, had a knife freaking strapped to her thigh.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re exaggerating, right?”

  “Hell, no.” He held his hands up in the air. “They even said if I ever wanted to come to the house and give a private concert…”

  “And die?” I finished.

  “Like they’d kill familia!” Zane pounded his chest and winked. “Anyways, he gave me his phone number just in case, and that was that.”

  I frowned. “Just in case what? You get shanked by the mob?”

  “Hmm,” Zane licked more whipped cream off his waffle. “Don’t really think the mob shanks people. They drown people, make them disappear, freeze bodies, but shanking? I think that’s more prison you’re thinking.”

  I burst out laughing. “This is good post-sex talk, really, fantastic, nice ice breaker you know? Getting shanked.”

  “I’d shank you.” Zane said in a sultry voice. “But not with a knife.”

  I struggled not to laugh. “Yeah, not sure that sexual innuendo
worked.”

  “Next time.” He rubbed his hands together and handed me my plate. “Your breakfast of champions.”

  “Again, diabetes.”

  “Just one taste,” He dipped his finger into the whipped cream and held it out to me. I licked around the base of his finger then wrapped my mouth around and sucked hard.

  He let out a low curse and nearly collapsed against me. “That’s completely unfair.”

  “And you walking around naked looking like this is fair?” I ran my hands over his tight abs while he let out a little moan.

  “Ten minutes,” he whispered. “Give me ten more minutes with you and then I promise I’ll work.”

  “Are you still paying me?”

  “Oh, and you’re fired. Sorry, our company has a very strict no fraternization policy. Please gather your things and leave them at the door so I can hide them, keeping you from leaving the premises.”

  I kissed him.

  I couldn’t help it anymore.

  The magnetic pull that was Zane Andrews was nearly impossible to resist, and after actually knowing him, talking to him, I’d be crazy not to latch onto him in any way physically possible.

  “So, this makes us what? No longer employee and employer?”

  “This makes us.” He rubbed his hands down my face softly as if the pads of his fingers were set on memorizing every inch of skin they could. “An us. Together. It’s what I want… but I’m still allowing you to vote. You know, even though you’re a woman.”

  I rolled my eyes and smacked him lightly across the chest. “After an invitation like that? How could I say no?”

  “Waffles later?” He asked picking me up by the ass and slamming me between both plates, the bite of the granite countertop caused me to hiss out but it was nothing compared to the smooth transition of warmth as he assaulted me with kisses then slid me off the counter and onto him, allowing me to ride him as I pushed against the back of the counter with my hands.

  “Yeah.” I breathed out a moan as I moved against him. “Waffles, some… other time….”

  “I love it when you’re distracted.” He kissed my neck as he let me take control keeping me elevated just enough to hit every single nerve that it felt like I possessed.

  “So…” My mind was a blur of feelings. “Distraction.”

  “Distracted?”

  “What?” I shuddered as he deepened the kiss, his hands digging into my skin and lifting me into the air, cold air hit my back and then he was pressing me against the lower dining room table, against more dishes, against more silverware, and I didn’t care, I literally had no idea how long I let the sensation of Zane Andrews consume me, but inch by inch, hurried breath after breath, he continued to push his way into my world.

  And I realized, between two dinner placemats, as we both found release, there would never be any going back.

  For either of us.

  “Zane.” I fought to catch my breath as sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Thanks for telling me everything.”

  His expression was unreadable. He leaned down and kissed me again and again.

  It wouldn’t be until later that night.

  That I’d register the emotion, he’d just tried to hide.

  Guilt.

  Zane

  “You ready for this?” Jay asked a few hours later. I’d spent the rest of the morning in bed, skipping my recording session much to Will’s dismay, and hightailed my ass to set.

  A cameo.

  I could do a cameo.

  The crowds of extras were stifling, it was supposed to be a party scene, and I was playing myself on stage.

  Like usual.

  On stage.

  I could do it.

  I flinched when the makeup artist added more dark shadow to my eyes, something that Jay was completely adamant about, was that I play myself but like this darker self, my designer jeans were shredded within an inch of their life, and I was barefoot.

  The scene was supposed to be a Halloween party and apparently, I was a vampire.

  A half-naked vampire.

  That looked a hell of a lot like Jack Sparrow. I flinched when I saw my own reflection, freaky blue and white contacts stared back at me as fangs met my bottom lip. “I can’t sving like vis!” I lifted my hands into the air in exasperation.

  Alec and Demetri were both in makeup chairs next to me, also headed up to the same fake stage, only they were getting zombie makeup put on them.

  Demetri lifted up his phone. “Keep talking.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No.”

  “Say something with an SSSSSS.” He laughed.

  “Sthuck you!” I yelled

  “What was that?” He cupped his ear.

  Alec glanced down at his phone and burst out laughing while Jay approached with his headset around his neck and Lincoln flanked on his right.

  “Remember.” Jay was so damn young to be directing, but he was kicking ass. You could tell in the way the actors watched him, hung on his every word, even Lincoln, not that Lincoln had ever been a bad guy, he was just… very Hollywood, until he met Dani, now he seemed more normal.

  Hell, like I even knew the meaning of the word.

  I told Fallon to wait for me by Dani, who decided upon Fallon’s arrival that they both needed to grab coffee if they were going to make it through the afternoon.

  “I need you to look pissed.” Jay grabbed Lincoln by the shirt. “This scene is pivotal, okay? It’s the third book in the series, alright? The one where Alec and Nat are together but he’s been lying about his past.”

  Suddenly uncomfortable I looked down.

  I wasn’t necessarily lying.

  Just not sharing something that could ruin the moment and cause potential hurt, besides, did it really matter?

  Finish the album.

  Spend as much time with Fallon as possible.

  And get a checkup if I start feeling weird.

  My last check was six months ago, and although the aneurysm was still there, I was told it wasn’t growing and might heal up and disappear on its own, but that if by my next checkup the body hadn’t repaired itself, I would need to go in for surgery.

  Brain surgery.

  That could leave me a vegetable for the rest of my life.

  Which, until meeting her, didn’t seem to matter all that much. After all, I didn’t like people — and they sure as hell didn’t like me or wouldn’t like the real me if they ever knew my secret.

  That I puked my guts out after meet and greets.

  And hadn’t been to a mall in years.

  “Hey, you ready for this?” Alec stood and held out his fist for me to bump.

  “Yeah.”

  “At least you get to lip sync, you know? Otherwise, you’d sound like a freak.”

  “Wow, thanks.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll still sound better than you.” I teased.

  “Okay, eight.”

  “Eight?”

  “Grammies. I keep count so I know how many more I need this next awards season to kick your ass.”

  “Three.” I called, “Just in case you were wondering.”

  “It will happen, after all, we actually got an album recorded this last year while you sat on your ass and ate marshmallows while watching Real Housewives.”

  “Bethenny’s a goddess,” I called after him.

  He was right, though.

  I needed to finish recording tonight.

  Even if it killed me, which it very well might.

  A twinge of guilt snapped in my chest like a small twig, like I was trying to sneak up on something and my own guilt caused my foot to slip against something loud.

  That was how I felt with this secret.

  It wasn’t the public’s business.

  But it was hers.

  Wasn’t it?

  We were going on four weeks of knowing each other — nobody shared everything after only four weeks.

  It was a lie.

  I knew it even as I thought it.

 
“Places!” Someone yelled while my vampire self got ushered toward the stage.

  Fallon waved at me from behind the camera, both she and Dani had a cup of coffee in hand and were pointing and laughing.

  Yes. Hilarious. Edward Sparrow, Ladies and Gentleman!

  She looked gorgeous in tight skinny jeans and a loose grey tank top that was tied in a knot at her waist. She must have gone home to change, which for some reason made me anxious. I didn’t want her anywhere but in my arms — in my bed, wherever that bed may be.

  The lights dimmed.

  Alec and Demetri started their creepy little acoustic melody and then the music shifted to the one we had written for the actual movie.

  I moved to center stage.

  My nerves at an all-time high as everything fell silent and then the beat picked up and I did what I did best.

  “My name’s Saint,” I whispered gravely into the microphone. “Are you ready to confess your sins?”

  The extras went wild, so wild that I nearly cut and ran, but it was a concert, a fake one, but one I could control, this is what I did.

  I entertained.

  “I’ve been bad,” a girl screamed. Not sure if that was scripted or not, but I leaned down with my microphone and tilted her chin toward me.

  Screams erupted.

  I whispered above the noise directly into the mic. “I’ll show you bad.”

  The music blared as I turned around, shoved in my stupid ass vampire teeth and started to lip sync.

  “Show me dirty, I’ll make you clean.” I ran down center stage and slid across my knees leaning backwards as girls grabbed at my abs and ripped jeans. “I’m your saint, I’m your dream.”

  Lincoln and Pris, Jay’s wife, who was playing the part of Nat, started dancing with the rest of the extras, while my hips bucked against hands slamming into me and tongues licking my arms.

  I shivered and stood. “Confess, confess, confess.” The crowd started shouting with me. “Reckless, dirty girl, confess, I’ll make you wish you weren’t stuck in a prison of your own making, just give me the chance, I’ll be yours for the taking.”

  I put the mic on a stand and lifted my hands as the lights lit up behind me, Alec and Demetri’s harmony crooned in on the chorus.