“That’s it, darling,” he says, his voice low in my ear. “Come for me, baby.”
He reaches between us and rubs my clit a few times. That’s all it takes. I lean my head back and he covers my mouth to keep me quiet. He doesn’t stop thrusting, and the friction draws out my orgasm. I feel him start to come, his body stiffening. He groans, and he drives into me, hard.
When we both finish, I put my arms around his shoulders and collapse against him. He keeps me pressed against the wall, my legs still wrapped around his waist. His chest rises and falls against me, and he buries his face in my neck.
He helps get my feet to the ground and deals with the condom, then pulls up his pants. I adjust my panties and make sure my clothes are straight.
He turns back to me and puts one hand on my waist, the other up against the door. His mouth comes to mine, and he kisses me, slow and soft.
It’s the first time he’s kissed me like this after we had sex. We kiss all the time during, but when it’s over, we usually just get up and go back to whatever we were doing before. We don’t linger together or cuddle. Even when I’ve craved more contact with him—when lying in each other’s arms would have felt good—I don’t ask. It feels like that would be crossing the line we set. Lucas made himself perfectly clear when this started. We’re not a couple.
But when he kisses me like this, that line gets awfully blurry.
He pulls away and touches my face with a gentle hand. “That was fantastic.”
I’m still breathing a little too fast and I’m sure my face is flushed. “Yeah, it was.”
“You naughty girl,” he says with a smirk. “Fucking in a bathroom.”
“Oh, I see. This was another end-of-Grease Sandy thing.”
He stares at me for a few seconds, his eyes intense. “Not really. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted you.”
He kisses me again and steps back.
My head is swimming and the way he’s looking at me is giving me whirlpool feelings in my tummy. “I should get back to my table. I’ve been gone too long.”
He laughs. “Yeah, we’re a little obvious. You go first. I’ll wait a few seconds.”
I pick up my purse and put the strap over my shoulder. Lucas grins at me again—his lazy post-sex smile. I fix my hair and hope what I just did isn’t obvious when I go back to my table.
Then again, maybe I don’t care if they know.
19
19: Becca
After a tiring day at work—my preschoolers are great, but they sure can wear me out—I sit at my dining table with a cup of coffee. Today was a field trip to the beach, and taking twenty four-year-olds anywhere is an exercise in patience. Once we got out there, it was great. They ran around and dug in the sand and had a fun time. The biggest challenge was rounding them up again when it was time to go back to school so their parents could pick them up.
Definitely an afternoon coffee sort of day.
My phone rings and I look at the screen. It’s my dad. Again.
I posted pictures of me and Lucas when we went surfing, and apparently that was a mistake. My dad has been trying to call me ever since, and judging by his voicemails, he isn’t happy. I know I can’t avoid him forever, so I answer.
“Hi, Dad.”
“There you are, Becca. I’ve been worried sick.”
“Dad, I texted you like five times to tell you I’m fine,” I say. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Princess, I’m very concerned that this move has been bad for you,” he says. “I really think you need to reconsider coming home.”
I breathe out a long breath and slump in my chair. “Dad, it has not been bad for me. Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Becca, surfing is dangerous,” he says. “You could have been hurt.”
I made Lucas promise not to tell anyone about me being hit in the head by his surfboard, so it wouldn’t get back to my parents. But of course, my dad still worries. “Yes, I know that. I was with my friend Lucas, and he’s very experienced. I was safe the whole time.”
My dad clears his throat and I wonder if he’s more upset by the fact that I was surfing, or that I was out there with a guy he doesn’t know. “Listen, princess, I just want you to be happy. And safe. I worry about you when you’re so far away.”
It is so hard to talk to my dad when he gets like this—especially because I know why he’s doing it. I wish I could just say it—tell him that it isn’t his fault that Alicia died. And that he can’t be right next to me every moment of my life. He can’t protect me all the time, and he shouldn’t. But I’m afraid he’d be devastated if I said it, and I just can’t do that to him.
“Dad, I know you worry, and I know it’s because you love me,” I say. “I love you too. But you have to understand, I’m happy here. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. I needed this. You really don’t have to worry so much. I’m fine. I promise.”
He takes a deep breath. “Well, just remember your mom and I are here if you need help with anything.”
“Yes, Dad, I know. I actually don’t need your help right now. Maybe that’s hard to understand, but I’m doing really well on my own.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “I’m proud of you, princess.”
Tears sting my eyes and a lump rises in my throat. I don’t think he’s ever said that to me before. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I end the call and it takes me a few minutes to collect myself. I wipe the tears from my eyes and put my empty coffee cup in the sink.
There’s a soft tap at my back door and I see Lucas standing on the other side of the glass. He rakes a hand through his hair, and he’s absent his usual smile.
I open the door and he steps inside.
“Hey,” I say. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.”
He sinks down onto the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose.
I sit down next to him. “Did something happen?”
“I’ve just had one hell of a day.” He looks at me, his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t bug you with this.”
He starts to get up, but I grab his wrist. “No, it’s okay, you can tell me. What’s going on?”
He pauses for a long moment. “Work this week has been a disaster. I made some bad calls.”
“Did you lose a lot of money?”
He shrugs. “Some. I’ll recover.”
Something tells me there’s more going on than stress from his job. He has his ups and downs, but I’ve never seen him visibly upset about work before.
I’m not sure what to do. I want to reach out and touch him—comfort him somehow. What’s the friend thing to do, here?
I put my hand on his arm and squeeze it.
“I also got in an argument with my dad,” he says, his voice quiet.
“Over what?”
“Money,” he says. “His store is really struggling. I guess it has been all year. The accountant he hired screwed up, and now he owes a bunch of back taxes. He’s afraid he’s going to lose the store.”
“Oh, no.”
“I have the money to bail him out,” Lucas says. “I can make sure the store doesn’t go under, but he won’t take it. When I told him I have it, he started questioning my morals. He basically accused me of doing something illegal. He couldn’t accept that I actually earned what I have.”
“Lucas, that’s awful.”
“Yeah, it sucks.” He rests his elbows on his knees and runs his hands through his hair. “This isn’t your problem. I don’t know why I came over here.”
I’ve never seen him like this before. My heart aches for him. “You came over because this is what friends are for.”
He turns and meets my eyes, his brow furrowing. Leaning over, he rests his head in my lap, then puts his legs up on the couch. His arm drapes across my legs and he holds me tight.
I run my fingers through his hair and his body relaxes. It fee
ls good to hold him like this—to know I can make him feel better. I hate that he’s upset, and I can’t imagine what it must have felt like to hear that from his dad. My relationship with my parents has been complicated since I moved to Jetty Beach, but this is different. From what Lucas has told me, I know he’s struggled to gain his father’s acceptance. It must have hurt terribly to have his offer of help rejected like that.
He lays with me in silence for a long time. I slide my fingers through his thick hair. As happy as I am that he came to me, sitting with him like this is stirring up a whole mess of feelings I shouldn’t be having. I want to tell him how amazing he is. How proud he should be of everything he’s accomplished. I want to tell him how much he means to me. How much I care about him.
But the more I sit here and caress his hair, thinking of all the things I’d love to say, the more the ache in my chest grows. I love having Lucas in my life. I can’t imagine it any other way. But I wonder how much longer things can go on like they are. He seems perfectly content with our relationship as it is. Why wouldn’t he be? We’re great friends, we spend tons of time together, and we always have fun. The sex is off the charts. And he doesn’t have to worry about anything else. No expectations, no commitments. We move from one adventure to the next, and enjoy each other’s bodies in between. It’s the perfect setup for him.
It was for me too, at least at first.
I’m not supposed to want more. I’m not supposed to wish we were more than friends. That’s when things get complicated, and we both agreed not to let that happen.
But the truth won’t leave me alone, no matter how hard I try to deny it. As I sit with him, comforting him when he’s hurt, rubbing his back and sliding my fingers through his hair, the truth gets so loud I can’t pretend I don’t hear. My throat feels like it’s closing up and I bite the inside of my lip as hard as I can to keep from crying.
I can’t deny it anymore. I’m in love with Lucas.
20
20: Becca
My Saturday plans with Juliet are canceled—she got a surprise visit from her mother, poor thing—and I tell myself a dozen times that I won’t text Lucas. Going a day or two without seeing him might do me some good. But my resolve lasts all of an hour.
“Hey,” he says with a smile when I let him in the back door. “I was wondering if you were busy today.”
“I was supposed to hang out with Juliet, but her mom showed up in town unannounced.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he asks.
“A bit of both,” I say.
“Sounds like my mother,” he says. “So, what do you want to do today?”
I know exactly what I want to do. That isn’t why I texted him, but being near him makes my body come alive. My heart flutters, my skin tingles, and my pussy is instantly throbbing.
I really wish he didn’t do this to me. It would make navigating all these emotions so much easier.
But since he does—
I launch myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. He kisses me back, his hands grabbing my ass.
He leans down and hoists me up over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I say with a laugh.
“Taking what I want.”
He carries me upstairs to my bedroom and practically tosses me onto the bed. He yanks off my clothes, using his teeth to pull off my panties. I giggle and squirm while he wrestles me onto my belly. He slides his tongue up the length of my spine, making me shudder.
“You taste so good.” He moves my hair out of the way and kisses the back of my neck. “I want to lick every inch of you.”
He teases me for a while, kissing and licking my skin, until I’m so hot for him I’m ready to beg. I hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper, but before I can roll over, he climbs onto me while I’m still tummy down. He slips his cock in from behind, and it slides in easily.
This angle is amazing. I push against the headboard and arch my back to take him in deeper. He fists one hand through my hair and the feeling of being in his control is such a turn on. I surrender to him, letting him move my body the way he wants. He yanks on my hair harder, almost enough to hurt, and I let loose, calling out with his thrusts.
“Don’t… stop… oh my god… yes.”
He feels so good, I can’t control myself. I’m pinned down, helpless, totally at his mercy. His cock is so thick and he’s driving it so deep, giving me everything I need. A thousand points of light explode as the first orgasm rolls through me. My core clenches and tightens, sending waves of pleasure through my whole body. Lucas shifts his hips and just as my orgasm starts to recede, I’m hit with another one. He comes with me, his cock thrusting hard, pulsing, throbbing, his breath hot against my neck.
When it’s finally over, he moves off me. But instead of getting up, he rolls onto his back and drapes an arm over his forehead.
I’m aching with the desire to snuggle up against him. To feel his arms around me as we catch our breath. But I don’t know how he’d react if I try to cuddle with him. I’d know if it made him feel awkward, and I think that kind of rejection would be worse than the pangs of emotion I’m feeling now.
I force myself to get up and put my clothes back on. Lucas doesn’t say anything, so I go downstairs, trying to act like everything is just as it should be. We had great sex, as always, and now that it’s over, we’re back to being friends.
Nothing else going on here. Just the usual.
I take a seat at the dining table and thumb through a small stack of mail. Lucas comes downstairs, pulling his shirt over his head. He smiles at me and heads for the kitchen.
“Want anything?” He opens my fridge.
“No, I’m good.”
He grabs a beer and opens it, then pulls out the chair across from me and sits.
I get to a cream-colored envelope with handwriting I recognize. The return address is my parents’.
“Oh, no.” I already know what it is, but I open it anyway.
“What’s wrong?” Lucas asks.
I pull out the invitation. “It’s my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary. They’re throwing a big party. Obviously I have to go.”
“I take it you don’t want to go?” he asks.
I run my fingers along the gold leaf lettering. “Well, I’m happy for them, and this is a big deal. So in that sense, of course I want to celebrate with them.”
“But?”
“Brandon’s parents will be there.”
Lucas stares at me for a moment, his beer halfway to his mouth. “The Brandon?”
“Yep.”
“Why would they be at your parents’ anniversary party?”
I put the invitation down. “My parents are friends with them. They’re all country club people, so they see each other a lot. If my parents didn’t invite them, it would be a pretty big insult. But honestly, I don’t think it would occur to my parents not to ask them to come.”
“That’s shitty,” Lucas says. “They’d invite your ex’s family to their party?”
It’s odd, but hearing him say your ex’s family doesn’t hurt. When I first moved to Jetty Beach, any mention of Brandon brought tears to my eyes. Now, I don’t feel much of anything. Maybe this is what it’s like to get over someone.
Maybe it’s because I love Lucas a thousand times more than I ever loved Brandon.
I push that thought out of my head, but my cheeks warm and I know I’m flushed. “Yeah, it’s awkward, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. They’ll be there. And there’s no way I can miss it.”
I desperately want to ask Lucas if he’ll come with me. I chew on my lip, wondering if I should. I imagine walking into my parents’ house with Lucas by my side. I could face this party with Lucas. It might be the only way I could face it.
Lucas and I both start talking at the same time.
“Would you come with me?”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
He gives me a wide smile and we start laughing.
“Great minds,” he says. “So, I guess that’s a yes?”
“Would you?” I ask. “I know that’s a lot to ask.”
“Of course I will,” he says. “Just remind me so I don’t forget.”
“It’s a dress-up sort of event,” I say. “You’d need to wear a suit.”
He winks. “Darling, I have you covered. I’ll be there, suited up for battle.”
I reach across the table and touch his hand. “Thank you. Really, this means a lot to me. I feel like I can do this if you’re there.”
“With or without me, I know you can do it,” he says. “But I’m happy to be there for you.”
I get up and head for the fridge to cover the sudden rush of tears that flood my eyes. Why does he have to be so wonderful? Why couldn’t he be a jerk? I guess we wouldn’t be such good friends if he were awful. But he’s too good to me. I can’t keep my feelings under control when he’s being amazing like this.
I’m not in the mood for a beer, so I get a glass of water. “Well, thanks. I should call my mom and let her know I’m bringing someone. She hates it when people don’t RSVP on time.”
“No problem.” He gets up and leaves out the back, winking at me again as he slides the door closed.
I get my phone and take a deep breath while I bring up my mom’s number. This is going to be interesting.
“Hi Becca,” she says when she answers. “How are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m well. Busy. This anniversary party is turning out to be quite the undertaking.”
“I bet. Did you invite a lot of people?”
“Oh, I suppose,” she says. “It’s all the usual people. You know most of them.”
All the usual people. It’s so frustrating that they still socialize with Brandon’s family. It’s not that I’m upset about Brandon anymore. I’ve moved past my heartbreak; in fact, I’m glad he broke up with me. I kind of wish he’d have done it sooner. In a lot of ways, my life didn’t begin until that night I threw up all over him. But there’s no way it won’t be awkward to see them at this party.
Good Girl Next Door: A Steamy Small-Town Romance (Jetty Beach Book 6) Page 13