“It’s okay,” I say but it comes out like a groan because I can feel my body starting to respond to hers. I shift my hips back to hide my hardening dick but find that I’m as far back as the seat will allow.
She shimmies and mutters to herself, starts to lift her leg and stops suddenly, groaning under her breath.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Yes. God, this is ridiculous,” she mutters, without turning back to look at me. She rests one hand on the small plexiglass shield between the driver and us. The thin gold band on her ring finger draws my eye.
“My ankle bracelet is caught on the lace of your shoes.”
She bends over, pushing her soft ass even deeper into my groin and my dick does the unforgivable and starts to get hard. She’s moving back and forth, and even though I know she doesn’t mean to, it’s like giving me a lap dance.
Her fingers flex on the plexiglass, and I imagine that hand on my headboard, her hair pushed aside so I can see her back while I drive into her soft, wet, heat. Lemon must be an aphrodisiac. It has to be. I’ve got more self-control than this.“Almost… got it…” she croons shifts her weight back.
I push my hips far back as they’ll go, but I can’t do anything to stop her from feeling the heavy hard length between my thighs.
She stiffens and I stop breathing, braced for her to turn around and slap me.
I lean in to speak close to her ear to avoid the possibility of anyone hearing me. “It’ll go away if you stop moving,”
Then, to my mortification, I realize I’m still holding her hips in a tight grasp, essentially holding her in place. I let go, abruptly. But instead of sitting still or moving away, she rolls hips
My sharp exhale of breath disturbs a lock of her dark loosely spiraling hair on her shoulder and a shiver, subtle and short, runs through her.
I glance at Carol. She’s turned away, talking to her husband.
I look back at the unexpected seductress on my lap and then roll my hips up, just slightly, too. I move my hand slowly inch by inch until it’s back on her hip and dig my thumb into the soft flesh there.
Her body relaxes against me and she moves her hips in a seductive circle that brings the head of my dick in contact with her pliant but stiff clit. But for the subtle rocking of her pelvis she doesn’t move.
I don’t either. I close my eyes, let my head loll back to the window while the gently swaying vehicle sets a slow rhythm.
“So, where are you from, dear?” Carol asks and I freeze.
But Regan doesn’t. “Texas,” she says, her voice a little breathless but otherwise, normal.
“Oh, that’s nice. We’re from Oklahoma. We come here every year. It’s gorgeous, but you have to be careful in that surf. If you get too far in…” Carol warns in a grave voice.
“You mean, at the resort?” Regan asks in a voice that is slightly breathless but otherwise normal.
“Yes, dear, we heard the most awful story on our first day here…” Carol starts to drone on.
I ease a hand off Regan’s hip to tap my AirPods on. Just My Imagination by the Temptations starts to play. I chuckle to myself. She used to sing this all the time. In fact, I only know this song because of her. It’s almost enough to make me believe in fate again.
I grip her hip again and squeeze the supple flesh hard.
Maybe it’s because I’m living one of my many teenage wet dreams, but she feels damn incredible. My palms itch to slide up and cup her breast. I imagine her nipples hardening against them. I wonder if they’re hard already. If she likes them pinched or sucked. If they’re pierced.
I tighten my hold on her hip to stop myself from throwing caution into the wind to find out.
She reaches up to pull her hair over one shoulder, exposing the side of her neck and her shoulder. I want to sink my teeth into that smooth fragrant skin and suck.
Her thighs spread, making just enough room for me to sink into the plush heat at their apex.
I lift my hips and rock them, slowly, up.
Her legs quiver and her hand grips my thigh briefly, her fingernails dig into my skin and bite my lip to hold in a groan.
God, I can smell her.
Then, she turns and looks over her shoulder at me Her eyes are hidden by the dark opacity of her sunglasses. But I know what’s behind them.
Almond shaped, wide set, thick lashed eyes that are as dark, deep, and unknowable as a moonless, starless, midnight sky.
Her lips part, as if she’s about to speak. Instead, she bites the plump flesh at the same time that she rolls her hips, slowly but deliberately. Her moan is soundless, but her back arches and her lip slips from the greedy grip of her teeth as she mouths “coming” before she faces forward again.
But for her thighs trembling on top of mine, and the shallow, sharp breaths that lift her shoulders, I wouldn’t know anything was happening to her.
By the time the driver pulls into the resort and turns on the overhead lights, I’m rock hard, my balls ache, my mind on the edge of fevered. I want to roar for everyone to get the fuck off so I can pull my dick out and fuck her senseless.
But, neither of us move, not even to breathe, as Carol and her crew climb off.
What happens now? Do I tell her who I am?
And then what? Apologize?
“Reggie, are you asleep?” My eyes fly open at the sound of her friend’s voice. She’s sitting across from us, smirking. “You can stop using that man like a throne. There are plenty of seats.”
“Oh, god, sorry,” Regan says as she looks around the now empty carriage. She scoots forward so that she can stand.
I let go of her and grab my hat off my head and drop it over my erection.
My hair is the only thing about me that hasn’t changed since the last time I saw her, but it’s cut so low that none of the natural waves are visible.
I tense as she looks me over and I wait for her to gasp in recognition. It doesn’t come and I’m disappointed rather than relieved.
“Thank you,” she says and there’s a stiffness in her voice and in the set of her insanely voluptuous mouth as she sits next to her friend.
“I’m glad you got your bracelet free,” I say with as much equilibrium as I can manage. I nod toward her foot.
Only the tips of her toes are visible beneath the flood of her dress, now, but I’ll never forget the feel of her legs against mine. I can’t believe what we just did.
“Your bracelet got loose?” Her friend probes.
“Yeah,” she laughs and wiggles her delicate foot, wriggling her pretty light pink painted toes. “My anklet... It got caught on his laces, but I freed it.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, and leans her head against the shuttle window, effectively dismissing both of us.
“We’re pulling away, one stop left,” the driver informs as he closes the doors and sends us back into darkness. The bright overhead lights are on and I glance over to find the driver watching me through the rearview. with a knowing look on his face before he turns his eyes back to the road.
Shit. Did he see?
Well, as long as his mind was the only thing recording it, I don’t care.
My eyes drift closed as we ride along. The warm wind is a soft caress that carries the scent of flowers and the ocean as we zipped along the winding path cut into the side of this cliff. But I can still smell her citrus on me.
With my eyes closed, I could almost imagine that I’m back in that bakery.
Almost.
She’s got a hint of her flavor, but the woman sitting across from now is not the girl I spent six months falling in love with when I was ten.
I'm not the boy who was willing to plunge his knife into someone’s back to save her.
For more than one reason, she’s totally off limits. I should be praying I never see her again, not willing the shuttle to go slower.
When we reach the stop where we’re all getting off, her friend is on her feet before we come to a complete stop. She’s
standing at the door and rushes off the shuttle as soon as the doors open.
“No rushing at Pueblo Bonito,” the driver admonishes her rapidly retreating back
Regan doesn’t move. With her sunglasses on, I can’t tell if she’s asleep or just lost in thought.
The high-pitched peel of my alarm startles us both and she lets out a small cry and turns her head sharply toward me.
I hold my phone up, “It’s just my alarm, sorry,” I say quickly.
It takes one blink to replace the dazed weariness in her expression with indignant affront. “Oh,” she relaxes slightly and drops her arms to her side.
My phone chimes again and I grimace as I turn it on silent.
She gives me an awkward nod and then she’s up and heading off the shuttle, too. It’s impossible not to notice the way her shapely ass moves for just a fraction of a second after she’s stopped walking. Would it do that if I slapped it?
My dick stirs again. Which will not do. It’s one thing to keep my hat on my lap on the shuttle, I can’t walk around the resort like that.
So, I drop my eyes to the part of her dress that brushes the ground.
“Señor,” the driver calls when I’m halfway down the shuttle steps.
I turn back to him.
“Te perdiste tu parada” You missed your stop,” His grin is pure mischief.
I give him a good natured, slightly abashed smile. “Lo sé” I know.
He nods in Regan’s direction, his expression teasing still, with a touch of wistfulness. “No te culpo” I don’t blame you.
I wish him goodnight and head in the direction of the red brick paved terrace that leads to the reservation desk.
Regan is a few steps ahead of me and I keep a respectable distance between us. I don’t know why I’m following her or what I’ll do when I catch up, but I can’t just let her walk away.
I can still smell her on me. I turn my head to draw in a breath and catch a sweet flowery scent mingled with the tart citrus and spicy ginger. It’s intoxicating.
“Are you following me?” She comes to an abrupt stop and pivots on her heel to face me.
“Yes.”
She whips her sunglasses off and even though it’s dark, this walkway is well lit, and I can see that her eyes are red rimmed, like she’s been crying.
Guilt curdles in my gut. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I thought—”
“About what happened --”
We speak at the same time.
“Ladies first. Please.” I insist when she bites her lip
“I’ve never done anything like that…” she says in a halting voice.
I step closer to her, close enough that I can smell her again.
It makes my mouth water.
“Did you like it?” I ask.
“Yes,” she replies in a husky voice. She bites that sweet lower lip and my eyes drop to her mouth. She lets go of it and clears her throat. I drag my gaze back to her eyes. Her gaze is dark and inscrutable, but the energy between us is frantic and charged.
I reach for her slowly, to give her a chance to step away. When she doesn’t, I brush a lock of hair off her shoulder and run the tip of my forefinger down her arm.
“Are your panties wet?” I ask.
She draws in a sharp breath and shifts her stance; her lips part and she licks them quickly before nods.
“Go in there, take 'em off and bring them to me.” I demand, nodding at her pelvis.
She cocks her head at me, her wary eyes heavy lidded with arousal. “Have you… done something like…that before?” Her voice is full of anticipation, and when I shake my head no, she seems to relax a little.
“Good, you’re my first, too.”
Lord, how I wish that was true. She can’t hear the thundering of my raging pulse, but when a small smile tugs up the concerns of her mouth, I would almost swear she knows that I’m unraveling on the inside.
“Reggie, come on already, they need your credit card to change it,” her friend yells from the door. Her eyes widen in alarm and she slips her sunglasses on before she turns pivots in a smooth circle and turns her back to me.
I want to call after her, I don’t know what else I’d say.
Instead, I watch the girl of my dreams, who has gone from pretty young thing, to flesh and blood siren, walk away.
Chapter 11
Drunk Man Di Talk Truth
Regan
Good Lord in Heaven what have I done? If you’d asked me to list a thousand things I thought might happen to me in this lifetime, dry humping a stranger on a shuttle full of people until I came wouldn’t have ever, ever been one of them.
When he volunteered his lap, I was grateful. I’m in great shape, but I’m heavier than I look. I hadn’t missed the way his long, athletic body filled the seat.
When I sat down on his thick muscular thighs, the solid strength of him felt…deliciously sturdy. At least I didn’t have to worry about being too heavy for him.
Bonus points that he smelled good. Not because he was drenched in cologne
- but the kind of good that comes from soap, sweat, and man.
His baseball cap hid his hair and eyes, But God, the part of his face I could see was enough to whet my fantasies. His mouth alone…Wide and graced with lips so full they verged on pouty. And for a mad moment, I’d wanted to turn around and press mine to them.
Just to see if they were as soft as they felt.
It took me a minute to register what I was feeling. I haven’t had a man's dick between my legs in five years. And then his stiff erection pressed exactly where it needed to and flip the switch that turns me from mildly annoyed to wildly turned on. A switch I didn’t even know existed.
I was afraid he’d be pissed. I’d practically given him a lap dance trying to fix my anklet. He’s a man and his body’s response was simple biology.
Or so I though…Until his big, warm , sure hand gripped my hip.
Even that woman’s incessant prattling couldn’t cut through the lust that fogged my brain. I’d forgotten how different an orgasm feels when it's not coaxed out of me by my own hand. The pleasure from the friction of his body was unreal.
Guilt is glaringly absent from the swirl of emotions inside of me. But I can’t muster it when everything about what happened felt so… right.
In fact, it’s the only thing that’s happened since I arrived this morning that has.
I pour myself a glass of water, pick up the small silver container that used to hold Jack’s ashes, and step out onto the huge terracotta tiled balcony attached to my room.
I take a moment to breathe in the floral, sea salt tinged breeze carried in from the Sea of Cortez
I got Jack’s letter the day her will was read. The brochure for this resort and the boating company that she’d hired for the ceremony were also in the envelope. “It’s where I want a piece of me to dwell forever, and I want you and Matty to take me. Together. Please.”
It’s heartbreaking to think about her planning all of this.And not just because she was going to die. But because, in the midst of her own fear and grief and pain, she thought about me. Jack knew my soul needed space to unfurl. In the twelve hours since I arrived, I’ve had more time alone than I have in the previous twelve months combined.
The life I’ve dedicated myself to, the one I built with deliberate care, feels so far away right now. Distance allows me to see it with a clarity I’ve never had before.
It’s not a happy scene. Dressed in loneliness, apathy, lack of purpose, every single brick in its facade is held in place with lies, luck, and far too little love.
From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the small bronze urn I used to carry my best friend’s ashes out to sea last night. I’m gripped by a sense of foreboding. That could just have easily been me. And God, what a waste of a life it would have been.
The loud ring of my room’s phone is a welcome interruption and I dive for it and pick it up before it can ring again. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me. Can we talk?” Matty’s tone is clipped, but civil.
My heart gives a little hopeful leap. “Sure, maybe we can have dinner?” I glance at the clock, it’s only 4pm, but I’m starving. I came here hoping that Matty and I could repair what was broken between us. I’ve spent the whole day in my room waiting for her to call. Trying to work up the courage to call her.
“Okay, dinner would be good. Are you ready now?”
“I need to shower, but I’ll be quick,” I say.
“Don’t rush, I’ll come up to your room and wait. See you.”
“I look so tired,” I lament to my reflection and skim my fingertips over the shadows under my eyes. I haven’t slept well since Jack died.
“No, you don’t. You always look beautiful,” Matty calls in a monotone that smacks more of obligation than sincerity. She’s waiting in the small sitting area of my suite waiting while I put on a little make up.
I can’t see her in the reflection, but I know that from her perch in the bedroom, she can see me. So, I look directly in the mirror. “Well, you don’t always look beautiful. In fact, right now, you look as terrible as I feel,” I say with a smile that’s as sincere as her tone was.
A few seconds later she’s standing beside me at the small vanity in my bathroom, scowling at me.
She rolls her eyes and lets out a long, exasperated sigh.“I was trying to be nice, Regan,” she repeats.
I mimic her eye roll. “You don’t have to be nice. It’s okay to be honest with your friends.”
“Here we go.” I mutter and turn my attention back to my makeup.
She glares at me, hands on her hips and fierce frown on her face. “What does that mean?”
“It means that without Jack as a buffer, we were bound to argue.” I keep my expression neutral, but I stop trying to make my trembling hands work and put my mascara away and meet her eyes in the mirror.
I regret my quip about her appearance. She does look worn out. It’s more than fatigue and emotional toll of this trip. What had the last ten years been like for her? I didn’t even know where she lived until Jack told me she was in Maryland. She’s never met my children. Evangeline’s middle name is Matilda.
The Rivals Page 73