Sun-Kissed (Love In All Seasons Book 1)

by Frankie Love

  And his hand doesn't even come close to his cock. As I grind against him, adjusting to his size, I swivel my hips, loving the way he fills me. He watches me with wonder and I can't help but forget the lonely nights of my past.

  I need this, to be totally filled by him. With him inside me, I feel totally alive. I move, my clit awake and my body on fire. He feels so good in me I don’t want to stop moving against him, loving the way my pussy throbs when he thrusts his length inside me.

  "Watching you get off is so fucking hot," he tells me as I move against his body. He pulls my breasts to his mouth, licking and sucking my nipples as if they were treats.

  He squeezes my ass, his fingers running up and down my crack, drawing me closer and closer to himself.

  My pussy is on hot, my pussy is burning. I grind harder against him, needing this, wanting this.

  His cock is going to burn me alive.

  "Oh, my God," I groan, knowing that when I come now it is going to be different from all the times before.

  "Oh, God, oh God, I'm so close." I push my body against him, my arms tighten around his neck, arching my back as he deepens against me.

  Then I forget my words; I forget myself. I'm lost in this moment. He holds me tighter against himself—he holds me like he won't let go.

  In this moment I am a reckless fool, completely high on sex, utterly committed to the cause.

  His come is warm and hot, and it fills me up. He makes sexy growls in my ear, telling me to keep going, that it isn't time to stop.

  So, I keep riding him as he comes, deep inside me, and I come harder too. We may be in the water, but I feel slick with sweat and drenched in euphoria.

  When we finish, I don't remember how to breathe. I've forgotten everything I knew. My name and my phone number and my home address. The only thing I know, the one thing I can remember, is that this is the moment I changed.

  This is the moment I became the person I was always meant to be.

  "What did you do to me?" I ask, gasping for air as pleasure surges through my veins, not quite knowing if this is the kind of sex everyone has or if this is just the kind of sex we have.

  He looks down at me, alarmingly confident and most certainly a demigod sent to this earth just for me.

  He raises an eyebrow. "I just made a woman out of you."

  I nod dreamily, not caring how chauvinistic his words might sound. Then he smiles at me, and I know he was just being silly.

  The truth is, I'm not the girl I was before I met him.

  He changed me.

  As I move from him and sit down on the step beside him, I try to remember everything about the moment.

  "Thank you," I tell him. I reach for my suit and begin dressing.

  "What, that's it? One fuck and you're through?"

  I look him over and smile. I know I'm not the kind of girl he's used to having, but I'm happy to have been his girl for one day, one hour.

  "I'll never forget you," I tell him.

  "And that's supposed to be enough?" He's already shaking his head, reaching for his trunks. "You're seriously just gonna walk away after that?"

  I laugh, pulling up the straps on my suit. "I'm here for my friend’s bachelorette party, not a romantic rendezvous."

  "And what do you call what we just had?"

  His face has turned to a scowl. I can tell he's not used to being rejected. But that isn't what I'm trying to do. I just want to let him off the hook easily, he doesn't owe me anything.

  "We just had fun. We just—"

  He cuts me off, shaking his head. "That wasn't fun. It was fucking hot."

  "You're right," I tell him. "It was. It was a moment I'll never forget." I lean over and kiss his cheek.

  I didn't come to Miami for a boyfriend, and I certainly know I'm not the kind of girlfriend this man would be interested in anyway. He's a player, rich, and probably has a different woman for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  I'm just his afternoon snack.

  "I'm not expecting anything from you."

  "What if I want to give you something?"

  At this, I shake my head. "Considering we didn't use protection. I truly hope you didn't."

  Apparently, I've crossed a line, and as soon as I've said it, I wish I'd said something sweeter, told him something more romantic, because the truth is, what we just shared really was romantic.

  I'd be lying if I didn't admit it was a romantic rendezvous.

  But I also don't want to get attached to someone I'll never see again.

  "Look," I say, trying to soften things. "Thank you, again. But I really need to go find my friends."

  He scoffs. "Just like that?" He shakes his head and gets out of the pool. "I really thought you were different than this."

  "What did you think I was?" I can't help but ask.

  "I thought you were a tender-hearted woman, who saw me as more than what everyone else sees."

  "And what is that?"

  "The fact that you have to ask ruins the entire thing."

  "So you regret this, after all?" I ask, watching him get out of the pool.

  I just lost my virginity—I feel both intoxicated with exuberance and ridden with disappointment.

  He wishes it hadn't happened.

  This Greek god, who has a back ripped with muscles, whose body moves with a fluid self-possession, a man so strong, standing here in the flesh. I can't believe this man was inside of me.

  He turns around, facing me again. His eyes now ringed with a sadness I wouldn't have believed he could possibly understand. But when I look at him now, I know his emotions are as true and firm as anything else in this world.

  And my words have stung.

  It's shocking to think I have any sway over this man, at all.

  "I don't regret it," he tells me. "No one could regret what just happened. It was the best sex of my life. Hell, the best hour of my life." He clenches his jaw, steeling himself. "But I'm gonna try to erase this current conversation from my memory."

  I move to leave the water, but he shakes his head, motioning for me to stay put. "Listen," I say. "I don't regret it either. And you can be comforted by the fact that you just did something very nice for a complete stranger. It was a random act of kindness."

  He snorts, not liking those words either. "A random act of kindness? That's what you call this?" Raising his hands in defeat he adds, "I don't have time for this. I really thought you were different."

  And then, without another word, he walks away. I watch as he zigzags through the crowd, but then, I lose him.

  And I know I'll never see him again.

  Tears sting my eyes and I press my knuckles to my lips, willing myself not to cry.

  I try to regain my composure, not wanting Lexi or the rest of the party to see me upset. I don't want anyone to know about what just happened.

  So I try and focus on what I do want to remember.

  Yes, the encounter ended on a very sour note... but the rest?

  It was perfection.

  I look around and seal this moment to my memory forever.

  As I get out of the pool, looking for a restroom, I memorize the salty air and the palm trees swaying, the pelicans soaring toward the ocean, and the party music in the distance.

  I sigh, knowing this afternoon has changed me forever. I smile, this cabana smells like coconut oil and it looks like sex.

  But more than anything, it feels like spring break should.

  Chapter Five

  Fifteen Months Later

  While holding Asher, I one-handedly turn on the mobile above his crib. Winding it up, I pray that he manages to stay asleep tonight.

  "Okay, mister, you know this is Mommy's favorite night. You are going be a little angel and stay asleep, okay?" I kiss his cheeks, inhaling his baby powder, freshly bathed, seven-month-old smell.

  He may be driving me up the wall with his sleeping patterns, but for the most part, he's pretty much perfection.

  I lay him down in his crib and he rea
ches toward me, smacking his hands together as if clapping.

  "You got this, baby," I tell him. "You know you want to sleep, you know you want to go nighty-night," I speak in a singsong voice, chanting the mantra that he'll one day have memorized. "Sleep is good, sleep is bliss."

  I'm hoping if I say it often enough, he'll start to believe it.

  As if by miracle, he seems to acknowledge me by dropping his hands and rolling to his side.

  Letting an exhausted sigh of relief escape, I readjust my nursing tank and turn off the light to his closet-slash-bedroom.

  Once I found out I was pregnant, I upgraded from my studio apartment to a one-bedroom with a walk-in closet a la baby nursery.

  It felt like destiny. I can barely afford it, but it's close to Asher's daycare and right next to a subway line. I'm able to go to work every day and be home by four.

  I may not have a designer diaper bag, but I do have a way to make ends meet, and right now, that seems like more than enough.

  I close the door to his closet halfway, flipping on the white noise machine before I make my escape to the living room.

  I pick up the remote and turn on the TV and see the last few minutes of Jeopardy! are on.

  Perfect. I grab a box of white wine from the fridge and two empty Mason jars.

  A minute later, the buzzer rings and Lexi arrives just as The Bachelor begins.

  "Hey, pretty mama." She leans in for a hug. "Asher asleep?"

  I nod. "Thank goodness. I know it's only Monday, but already it feels like this week is gonna be a doozy."

  "Well, I brought Thai food. It will improve the mood, promise."

  Legs crossed on the couch, with the TV on, and containers of to go food in hand, I forget about staff meetings, teacher evaluations, and recommendation letters.

  Instead, I bliss out for the next two hours with my best friend, gossiping, bullshitting, and relaxing with Chris Harrison in the background of our weekly best-friend-date.

  "We've been watching this for how many seasons, and still it never gets old." Lexi laughs and I hand her a glass of boxed Pinot Grigio.

  "I know, and I think it's going to be the closest I'm going to have to my own love life for a really long time. I can't imagine dating while being a single mom." I take a drink of wine, blinking back memories of Asher’s father.

  He would have stayed with me that day in Miami if I had asked.

  He wanted more time with me.

  And I pushed him away.

  And now… now I’ll never know who Asher’s father is.

  "It might change, Asher is still so little," Lexi says, squeezing my knee. She's been my rock this last year. Finding out I was pregnant after her bachelorette party rocked my world and the fact that I didn't know the name of the father was a shocker to everyone I've ever known.

  I was the responsible one, the put together one. The make-a-new-year's-resolution-and-stick-to-it one.

  Not the one who got pregnant on spring break. To a complete and total stranger. The one who loses her virginity in a public place without using protection.

  I joked with that stranger that he may have given me an STD after we had sex—but the truth is, he gave me the greatest gift of my life.

  Asher is the unexpected gift I don't think I deserve. He's my whole world. My everything.

  He gives my life meaning and purpose and—Lexi squeals, causing me to drop my train of thought.

  "Oh, my God, do you think he's gonna give a rose to either of the girls on the two on one date?" Lexi asks.

  I shove noodles in my mouth, eying the Bachelor. "I don't think either of those girls is his type," I decide.

  "Yeah, but I wasn't Andy's type either, and we've been married a year now. Opposites attract."

  I think back to Miami... because everything always leads me back to Miami. The day my life changed forever.

  It seems like the stranger and I were opposites too. He was rich and sexy... and I was neither.

  But when we were in one another's arms, when he was touching me, kissing me... it seemed like we made sense, even if only for a moment.

  What would have happened if I hadn't pushed him away if I had pulled him near?

  I don't know if he would have been a good father.

  He fucked me like he knew what he was doing and I'm guessing being a dad would cramp his style.

  The show ends in a dramatic rose ceremony and the local news comes on. We begin cleaning up our mess when a story catches my attention.

  A news anchor starts talking as a photograph of a man flashes onto the screen.

  I drop the leftovers, my mouth falls into an O shape, then I let out a shriek.

  Lexi looks shocked, not just because I dropped the Pad Thai, but because I'm pretty much freaking out.

  "What? What's happening?"

  I can't speak. I just point at the TV screen and listen as the news anchor reports on the story.

  "In a devastating report, we have just learned that billionaire CEO and New York City entrepreneur, Dane Westbrook has been diagnosed with kidney failure. The prognosis is not good, and with no known relatives, Dane is not expected to live through the month. While the story is shocking, Westbrook has released a statement that he is grateful to have lived such a full and abundant life, and his only regret is the fact that he has no living heirs.”

  The anchor gives a sad laugh. “And that is a tragedy. Westbrook is worth nine billion dollars and a child of his would have inherited a fortune. We’ll keep you updated on this tragic story as we learn more. Westbrook has been a philanthropist and supporter of education in the greater New York area, along with having donated substantially to the public park system of New York City. Our support goes out to Dane Westbrook and his company."

  "Tell me what this is about? Do you know him because he gave money to your school or something?" Lexi asks.

  My eyes are still on the TV screen.

  "Him," I say pointing to his photograph. "It's him."

  "Him who?"

  "Dane Westbrook. He's the man I didn't know. The man who is..." I close my eyes feeling faint.

  "The man who what?"

  "Lexi," I say, the words nothing but a whisper. "That's the man who got me pregnant. That man is Asher's father."

  Chapter Six

  How fucking hard is it to keep the story from the news? To keep the facts on the down low? How fucking hard is it for a publicist and her entire team to keep the story of my impending death quiet?

  It's bullshit, that's what it is.

  "I have a million people harassing me every day, trying to get my money, laying claim to being my long lost cousin or some shit," I shout, my fist pounding on the desk in front of me. "You know how much time I have left, and this," I say, flinging my arms around the office. "This is not how I wanted to spend it."

  My publicist Julie waves her hands frantically as if she keeps moving, the reality of the situation will change.

  "I know, I'm so sorry Dane. We're gonna get right on it and try to clean up the story—"

  "Clean up? Julie, everyone already knows. I'm a fucking hashtag. #adoptmedane. People are doing anything they can to get their hands on my money. It's disgusting."

  "I know, I know it's not ideal—"

  "Enough," I tell her, finished. "Get out of my office, Julie. I'm done with this. Don't come see me again unless you hear that I am at the top of the donor list and there is a kidney that matches mine."

  I run my hands through my hair, as she scurries off, wondering why I'm not living out the rest of my days in a tropical paradise instead of in this cement dungeon determined to drag me down.

  The last thing I want to do is deal with gold diggers.

  And the one person I'm actually interested in hearing from hasn't come out of the woodwork. I haven't seen him in a decade, he's been on the run ever since he tried to get away with murder.

  Well, he did get away with murder. I know he was the offender in the hit-and-run accident, but he went off the radar, and
no one has seen or heard from him since.

  And he is the one person who could save me.

  He was always like that though, hiding in the dark, not wanting to live in the light.

  My secretary, Carla, buzzes me on the phone. "Dane, there's a woman here to see you."

  I sit down in my leather chair, letting my head fall back against the headrest, closing my eyes. With one finger I press the button to respond. "I'm done with the bullshit. Book me a trip to Tahiti. Or Jamaica. I don't fucking care. Just get me out of the city."

  "Your doctor said no—"

  "Okay, fine. I get it." I shake my head and try close my eyes again. It doesn't ease my mind though, my thoughts always return to the moment two weeks ago when my doctor told me my kidneys were failing, and that they couldn't save me. It's a rare genetic disease that has deteriorated my kidneys, and I must've gotten it from my parents. But since they died fifteen years ago I can't exactly ask what their DNA was to figure out who passed it on to me.

  My phone buzzes again.

  "I don't care what the doctor says," I growl.

  "Right," Carla says slowly. "But about the lady here—"

  "I don't want to see her."

  I'm exhausted. Not just because I'm sick, I'm exhausted because I'm at the end of my life and what do I have to fucking show for it?

  One night stands, a bunch of partying, friends who only know my name because they're hoping to get something from me? Not a whole lot of substance.

  There's only one night that mattered to me in my whole goddamn life. Well, not even a night. An hour. The woman from the pool in Miami...

  I should never have fucking walked away.

  I only did because she assumed I was exactly the kind of man that I am. A player who wouldn't be good enough for her anyway.

  But I still shouldn't have walked away. I should have stayed and tried to be a better man.

  Though, the fact is I may have saved us both some heartache in the end. Not having anyone who loves me, means no one is really gonna give a fuck when I die.

  The office line buzzes again. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I say.