by L. P. Dover
Once out in the hall, I smile. “I had fun. I love your mom.”
Max chuckles. “She’s the best. I can tell she loves you too.” That warms my heart. We walk to the elevator and he pulls me into his arms. “Question.”
I narrow my gaze at him. “What?”
His eyes twinkle. “Would you like to stay with me tonight?”
“I don’t know,” I say in a sing song voice. “What will we be doing?”
“I was thinking a repeat of last night.”
My body trembles in anticipation. How can I say no to that? “I think we can pull that off. We going back to your boat?”
Shaking his head, he pulls out a key from his back pocket. “I thought maybe we could stay here? We’ve both had a little too much to drink.”
I can’t argue with him there. Plus, it’d be nice to stay in the finest hotel in the state. “Sounds good to me.”
The elevator doors open, and we ride it down to the floor below. When we get to our room, Max opens the door and I gaze around in awe. It’s three times the size of any normal hotel room. The king-sized bed isn’t just a regular bed, it’s an antique four poster bed with a canopy. Very elegant and classy.
“Wow,” I breathe. “It’s gorgeous.”
Max comes in behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “I have to ask you something.”
I turn my head to the side, and he kisses my nose. “Anything,” I whisper.
“Will you come to the regatta with me? I know it’s not your thing, but I want you there.”
The breath hitches in my lungs. The regatta is the social event of the year. Everyone who is anyone will be there. People will also see us together.
“What about your dad and stepmom? I’ve been warned about them. They won’t approve of me.”
Max turns me around to face him. “I don’t give a shit what they think. And you shouldn’t either. I don’t need my dad or his bitch of a wife in my life.” He lifts my hand to his lips. “Please, London. One way or another, we can’t keep our relationship a secret forever.”
I want to be strong, to show him that I can handle it. “Okay,” I give in. “I’ll be there.”
He lifts me up in his arms and twirls me around. “You won’t regret it. I’ll win for sure now knowing you’re there, rooting for me.”
“Is that what you had on your mind earlier?” I ask.
He shakes his head and beams. “No. That’s something different. What would you say if I opened a restaurant and made you the manager? You would practically own the place.”
Excitement bubbles in my veins. “Seriously?” It’s like a dream come true, but then reality steps in. “How exactly would that work?”
“Dawson’s Marina,” he replies. “I know it’s a shithole right now, but I can fix it up. The beach there is immaculate. Just think of all the tourism we could bring to the area. And the restaurant there, I could renovate it and you would get the promotion you’ve always wanted. You wouldn’t have to deal with the scumbags at the yacht club.”
I can see the genuine elation on his face. “Max that sounds amazing. I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea? I know it’ll be a lot of work, but I want to do it.”
I cup his face in my hands. “Then do it. You can do anything you want.” His plan is something I would love to see happen. Dawson’s Marina used to be a prime spot. In order to see it all come into fruition I have to still be a part of Max’s life when that time comes. Will I be? I have no clue. We’re two different people from two different worlds.
Max lowers his lips to mine and kisses me. “If I do this, will you help me?” he asks, whispering across my lips.
I want to believe there’s something between us that will last. I want to believe in something that lasts forever. Sometimes it’s hard. Instead of saying that, I nod and kiss him back. “Of course, I will.”
His grin widens as he looks over at the clock. “It’s still early. What do you want to do?”
Taking his hand, I slide it up my shirt. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”
He lifts my shirt over my head and rakes his heated gaze over my body. “You drive me so crazy and I love it.”
“And I would love it if you took off your clothes,” I tease back. Max steps back and lifts his shirt over his head. I stare down at his shorts and he lowers them to the floor, along with his boxers. “Much better,” I murmur, lowering my voice seductively.
Now it’s his turn to look down at my skirt. “That needs to go.”
Slowly, I slide my skirt and lacy black underwear down my legs, leaving only my bra. I’m leaving that for him to take off. Taking his hands, I slide them up my thighs to my breasts. Unhooking my bra, he tosses it across the room and pulls me down on top of him on the bed. His lips close over a taut nipple and sucks greedily while his other hand kneads my breast.
Growling deep in his chest, he grabs the back of my neck and kisses me fiercely as he reaches between my legs, fondling my clit and slipping a finger inside of me. His cock is hard beneath me and I’m dying to ride him, but I love the delicious ache the anticipation gives me.
Circling his cock at my opening, I lift up before he can enter me. “Not yet,” I murmur. Kissing my way down his chest, I look up at him and he groans. The tip of him glistens so I flick my tongue across it, moaning. He tastes salty yet sweet; the perfect combination. Closing my lips around him, I suck him off and massage his balls. His hips lift and I take him in farther, knowing I’m driving him insane.
“Fuck, this feels good.”
Giggling, I lick his length and straddle him, feeling his wet cock between my legs. My whole body trembles as I take him fully inside me. His hands are everywhere on my body, his breathing deep and heavy as I ride him. I don’t want to stop, but I’m so close to losing control. My orgasm builds and I can feel my body tighten.
“Max,” I cry out, picking up my pace. His mouth latches on to my breast and he bites down, digging his fingers into my hips. I move faster, milking him, and explode all around him as my own release makes me tremble. He pulsates inside me and his warmth fills me. Putting his arms around my waist, he lifts his hips and turns me over on my back, still deep inside me.
“I hope you’re still ready to go because I’m not done.”
Six
Max
It’s a full day since I’ve seen London, and I can’t get her off my mind. After I dropped her off at her house the morning after we spent time together with my mom and stepdad, I had to tell her I wouldn’t see her or be able to speak with her much until after the race was over because Yates, Vance, and I needed to practice before the big event. London said she understood. I made sure to give her my mom’s phone number so they could meet up for the race. Still, when I dropped her off, I had a bit of doubt nagging at me. What if London didn’t show up? I couldn’t really blame her. I’d never seen her at one before, not that I was looking, but London comes across as the type who deems herself unworthy for these social events. Something I really want her to get over. Thing is, I want to be with her, grow this relationship beyond the bedroom, although being buried between her legs every night since I arrived in town has been a blessing. I just wish I asked her out sooner. Still, I want her on my arm when I attend the “event of the month” as my father’s wife calls them.
Yesterday, Yates, Vance, and I spent our entire day on the water, and some of the time in it. We had a couple malfunctions, but nothing we couldn’t manage if they happened again during the race. In between practice sessions, we watched our competitors, studied them, and tried to pick up on how they moved as a team. For the most part, the three of us are always a cohesive unit, and by comparison, the Kingston Regatta is small. Where some races have hundreds of boats, this one keeps it simple at fifty. In order to enter, you have to have won or placed in the top three in a qualifying race or won previously. Now the time has come, and we’re ready to win. The route is long, starting off in Kingston and taking u
s around Jamestown and Prudence Island.
We’re in the straightaway, heading toward the finish line. There are five of us, neck-in-neck, with none of us able to take a substantial lead. Yates and Vance are busting their asses. Our arms are burning, we’re soaked from head to toe, and the sun the weather report promised us, disappeared behind a thicket of clouds, casting a dreary gray cover over us.
I’m trying not to pay attention to the boats on either side of me as I battle the wind. I need to keep my boat pointed in the right direction and depend on Yates and Vance to tell me if I’m too close. While I have a three-man crew, most of the ones I saw today and in practice yesterday, had a five-man team. I’ve always trusted Vance and Yates and can’t imagine adding two more. We can get the job done just fine. If we were participating in a bigger event, like the one that leaves from Newport and sails to Bermuda, I’d have to reconsider.
A massive gust of wind rolls over us. The boat tilts, almost putting the head of the sail into the next boat. I curse at how close the driver has put his boat to mine, but there isn’t anything I can do about that.
“Pull starboard,” Yates yells to Vance, who shifts his sail.
“Stupid mother fucker,” Vance hollers across the way, complete with a flip off. Normally, I might chastise him, but not today. The guy is too close.
Yates pulls on the sail again and catches the gust of wind just right. It propels us forward, giving us an advantage. I can see the finish line up ahead and the cheers of the spectators are starting to echo toward us. This is encouraging and we use this to our advantage.
We’re in the last stretch. It’s us and the boat on my port side, who seems determined to beat us since Vance told him to fuck off. I get it, I would want to as well.
Except he doesn’t and we’re the first to cross the finish line. As soon as we do, Vance and Yates ease off the mainsheet to slow us down. They come to me and we celebrate!
It’s an hour later by the time I reach my family. My mom is the first to greet me, followed by Mark. My stepmother kisses both my cheeks because she thinks she’s French after spending a week in Paris and my father shakes my hand. By the look in his eyes, he’s going to give a long list of things I should’ve done to secure a stronger victory. Crossing the finish line first isn’t enough when it comes to Sheldon Richmond.
Before I can react, arms are around my neck and lips are pressed to mine. They’re familiar, but not the ones I crave. I step out of the hold and look into the eyes of Alyssa. She smiles and instantly my stepmom is by her side.
“You must come to the yacht tonight to celebrate,” she says in a fake accent. “You know, this would be a good time to announce your engagement.”
My mouth drops open as I look from Drizella to Alyssa, who is waggling her left hand at me. Sitting there, on her third finger is a giant rock that looks like it could cut glass. I glance at my mother, who looks murderous.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I don’t direct my question to Brandy or Alyssa, either one of them can answer.
Alyssa steps forward and slips her arm around mine. “Honey, I didn’t realize you hadn’t told your family we got engaged.” She shrugs and acts sheepishly.
Just as I’m about to rip into her, her father appears. His hand lands on my shoulder and jostles me around. “There he is, my future son-in-law.”
Fuck my life.
“Come on, let’s go talk to the news. They want an interview.”
I’m whisked away from my family and pulled toward the small press area. Technically, I should’ve gone there first, but I wanted to see London. As much as I want to shake Alyssa from my arm, I can’t. Not in front of all these people. Following her father, I keep my eyes on the ground and cringe each time she says hi to someone or they congratulate us. I keep hearing, “Next summer in the vineyard,” knowing full well she’s planning something that is never ever going to fucking happen.
“Mr. Worthington,” people call his name out multiple times. He’s the major sponsor of this race and has sponsored my boat for years. He answers the questions, and every so often looks over his shoulder at me and smiles. I don’t even want to know what’s going through his mind right now. He beckons me forward and keeps me under his arm, like a proud father, something my father should be.
“Max, how was the race?” a reporter asks.
“It was good. The weather obviously turned on us, but we have to be prepared for anything when we’re out there.”
“You were the only boat with a three-man crew. Why do you think this works in your favor?”
“Yates and Vance,” I pause and look around for them. I spot them not far and holler for them to come join me. They do, standing on either side of Mr. Worthington. “We’ve been doing this since high school when we were part of the rowing team. We’ve always worked well together when we’re out there. I can’t imagine not having them by my side.”
“We hear congratulations are in order,” another states.
I nod. “Yeah, another win. It’s impressive.” I know full well this isn’t what they’re talking about, but I refuse to indulge in the bullshit that Alyssa is spreading. I thank everyone for coming out and for the support over the years and wave as I walk away from the media setup. I’m determined to find my mom but am ushered toward the yacht club to join the reception.
Fuck.
Everyone inside the reception claps as we enter. I want to feel elated but I’m so damn angry right now. My eyes scan the crowd for my mom and stepdad, once I spot them, I leave Mr. Worthington with whoever he’s speaking with and head toward my family.
“Mom,” I say, getting her attention. Her eyes throw daggers my way and she angrily grabs my arm. “Where’s London?”
“What on earth would you want with that waitress?” my dad’s voice rings out.
“Sheldon,” my mother chides him. “Knock it off. This is not the time nor place to discuss this.”
“Yes, it is,” I retort. My mother isn’t having it though and points toward the wall and motions for me to follow her. I do, with Mark, my dad and Drizella following. Mom waits for the four of us to step into the small conference room and shuts the door.
“Why’s he here?” Dad points to Mark.
“Because she’s here.” Mom does the same thing to Brandy.
“I want to know what the hell is going on, and I want to know where London is. I need to find her.”
“She’s just a waitress. An easy lay,” Brandy says as she looks at her fake nails.
“Just a waitress?” Mom questions. “If I remember correctly, you were a stripper when you got down on your knees and sucked my husband’s—”
Brandy’s mouth drops open, as does my fathers.
“Now, now,” Mark says, interrupting my mom. I want to laugh, but don’t. There is nothing funny about this situation.
“Listen,” I say, holding my hands up. “I don’t know where this shit with Alyssa started, but we broke up. I didn’t put a ring on her finger. I didn’t ask her to marry me. Hell, I didn’t even suggest we get married. I am not with her and I don’t plan to be with her. I want to know what happened today and where London is. Please.”
My mom stands tall after giving my dad and his wife a snide look. “London was with us and everything was going fine. Your father and his wife, while not overly gracious, weren’t rude either. However, Alyssa suddenly arrived,” Mom pauses and looks at Brandy, who is once again looking at her nails. “I have my suspicions, but I’ll keep my theories to myself. She started flashing her hand around and telling us that you asked her to marry you last night.”
“And London was there?”
Mark and my mom nod.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this out. I wasn’t with London last night, and London is already apprehensive about things with me because she doesn’t feel like she fits in. If I had to guess, she thinks I’ve used her all week for sex, which is the farthest thing from the truth.
“Unbelievable.”<
br />
“Son, this is a blessing. Girls like her—”
I hold my hand up. “Don’t. Don’t give me some half-assed lecture about women, especially London. You have no right. You don’t know her, and you completely looked past the idea of her because she’s not on your self-imposed social ladder. Newsflash, Dad. London is better than you, and way better than your gold-digging wife.”
I’m heated and angry. While I should be celebrating, with London by my side, I’m in this room, dealing with family bullshit and social rankings.
“I’m not marrying Alyssa Worthington. Not today, tomorrow or a year from now. Hell, not even ten. I don’t like her. I’m not in love with her. In fact, I can’t fucking stand her. I’m going to walk out of this room and I’m going to find London.”
I go to my mom and give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you later.” Mark and I hug, and when I get to my dad, I step by him like he’s not even there. As soon as I step into the reception, Alyssa is by my side. I take her hand, give her a twirl, much to everyone’s delight and spread my arm out with my hand pointing toward her while still holding her hand. She’s soaking it all up.
“If I could have your attention please.”
Someone clanks their fork against a glass, and everyone quiets.
“This here is Alyssa Worthington. The only woman I know who would fake an engagement in order to upset another woman. A woman she has deemed to be beneath her.”
Alyssa drops my hand and looks away sheepishly, but I don’t let her get away. I pull her to me and lean in. “You disgust me. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I leave her there in the middle of the room, with people who have no idea what they’re supposed to do or how to act.
Seven
London
I knew being with Max was too good to be true. How could I be so stupid? For a hot second, I thought I could fit in with his crowd. Wrong. Everything was going great until she showed up; Alyssa Worthington, followed by Max’s father and his evil stepmother. I’ll never forget what happened for as long as I live. The embarrassment, the shame. I’ve never felt so low in my life. I don’t see how anyone could ever say to someone what they said to me.