A Fine Mess (Over the Top) (10 page)

Parts yet to be explored.

If Kolton had told me a year ago I’d chase a woman to Central America for fear of losing her, I’d have laughed him under the table. Now I’m pissed it took me a month to come to my senses.

Lily “My Girlfriend” Roberts squeezes my hand as we walk to dinner, our feet sinking in the sand with each step. I haven’t stopped touching her since our reunion. I’ve spent so many months resisting the urge, it’s like a hole’s been punched in the Hoover Dam. Call me a needy-ass boyfriend. Sign me up for couples’ Pilates. If I can feel the slide of Lily’s porcelain skin against mine, the rest of the world can fuck off.

A young girl up ahead is playing with a puppy, and Lily says, “Oh my God.” She grips my arm while she coos at the white ball of fur, but she doesn’t go over. The Queen of Shy.

I release her hand and give her a nudge. “Unless the pup’s name is Cujo, I think you’re safe.”

She hesitates, then approaches the girl. “Your dog’s adorable. How old?”

“Two months.” The girl tosses a stick, and the dog stares at it.

Not touching Lily is painful, but I settle for the next best thing: watching her. The puff of white fur rolls in the sand while Lily leans over to tickle its belly. The spaghetti strap of her pink floral dress slips off her shoulder, and her skirt rides up. One look at her smooth, pale thighs has my balls aching.

Earlier, when we’d returned from exploring the town, I almost attacked her. We walked into our suite and I whipped off my shirt, because holy fuck, is it hot here. I’m a dude. I sweat. Jack the temperature up to Death Valley, and I’m a human sprinkler.

Lily stared at my chest, and her jaw slackened like she wanted to lick me. Then something changed. Her soft flirtations from the afternoon stiffened, and her easy flow of words spiraled into choppy rambles. “You should probably shower,” she said, her eyes flicking between the floor and my chest. “Long day, right? And I’ll shower, too. In the other bathroom. So, you know, if you want to go now, then I’ll go, too. Dinner’s soon. And we shouldn’t be late. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

She slipped into the bathroom before I could reply, but her awkwardness was loud and clear. She’s only ever been with Kevin. One man for eleven years. He was her first kiss. Her first everything. And I’ve been like the Flash, racing around the proverbial block at light speed. As badly as I want to show her how good I can make her feel, we’ll take this at her pace. Whatever she needs. But tonight, whether she likes it or not, she’s sleeping with me, naked as the day she was born, even if that’s all we do.

She stands up, waves to the girl, and grabs my hand. “How cute.”

I kiss her cheek, because I can. “Adorable.”

With the high tide, we scramble to avoid incoming waves as we walk the rest of the way. The bright-yellow restaurant is half-full, the outdoor patio hanging over the ocean. Buoys dangle from the ceiling, different shapes and colors that have me picturing a cool print for our summer line, the plastic chairs and wooden tables finishing off the casual vibe.

Our waiter tries to sit us opposite each other, but I move next to Lily. The closer the better. I rest my arm on the back of her chair, my hand finding the delicate skin of her neck, gliding in time to the pop tunes playing.

A shiver runs through her, even though it’s piss hot. “This doesn’t feel real,” she says. “Being here with you. It’s kind of crazy.”

I let my fingers travel to her collarbone, then under the strap of her dress. “Does this feel real?”

Her eyelids flutter. “Very.”

She twists her hands on her lap like she wants to touch me, too, but she’s not sure she should. It’s hard to be one way around each other for so long and have everything change in an instant. Time to stamp out the weird.

“How about a pact?” I say.

“A pact?”

I laugh at her hesitation. “Not the kind where we promise to drink blood and howl at the moon.” I brush the stray blond hairs from her neck, her bun and hairband no match for the constant wind. “We’ve been flirting around our connection a long time, and I’ve held back from doing all the things I’ve wanted. So I say we make a promise: If we feel it, we do it. No getting embarrassed. No getting shy. With us, that stuff doesn’t exist.”

Still, she blushes. “I like that.”

I nudge her knee with mine. “So, do something right now you’ve always imagined. Unless you pictured kneeing me in the balls. I’ll take a rain check on that.”

She smirks. “There has been a time or two.” Then her gaze drifts down my face, over my jaw, and settles on my neck. When she stops fidgeting, she reaches over, so fucking slowly, until the tips of her fingers graze my skin. Jesus Christ and all the saints. I’m not sure what it is about Lily, but when I touch her, kiss her, or she touches me, I develop superhuman senses. Each contact sparks like I’ve been shocked, and it’s all I can do not to devour her.

She exerts more pressure, tracing the scar on my neck, her lips parting like she wants a taste. Then she pulls her hand back.

Full under-the-table boner.

“You can do that anytime,” I say as I adjust my shorts.

She smiles at her plate. “I like this pact.”

No argument from me.

I drop my hand and wrap my fingers around her thigh. Subtle pressure. Gentle rubbing. So soft and smooth. I want to touch all of her. Bite her inner thigh. Graze my teeth over her ribs. Hoist her ankles onto my shoulders. I settle for inching my fingers higher. I grab a menu with my free hand. “Food looks good.”

She shifts on her chair, a deep flush coloring her chest. “It’s kind of hard to focus.”

“Sorry, babe. I take pacts seriously. This is what I want to do, so you’ll have to cope.”

Then she looks at me, like right into me, her eyes glazed. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

My heartburn returns. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

The slapping waves punctuate the moment, then she leans in to kiss my cheek.

I move so she hits my lips.

I kiss her hard, not caring who’s here. Buy a ticket. Take a picture. Videotape the moment. As far as I’m concerned, the people around us don’t exist.

Heat floods my groin, and she wobbles when she pulls away. “I’m not sure how I’ll survive you.”

Her words, although innocent, hit home. I may be throwing myself into this relationship heart-first, caution to the wind, but the awareness hasn’t gone away. What my mother did, how a broken heart can cut a person down. I’m not sure I’ll ever let that go, and apparently my fear feeds off happiness: each minute I’m with Lily, that seed grows larger. I can ignore it, though. Push it away. I lived with my mother for years, worried I’d walk into the house and find her on the floor. But I made it through that, and I’ll make it through this. As long as I don’t fuck things up.

Superpower wish: precognition.

I grip Lily’s chin so she faces me. “You don’t have to survive me, you have to survive
with
me, and I can be a real pain in the ass.” She laughs, and I add, “I’m scared about a lot of this stuff, too. But you told me you wanted to take this risk, so I’m all in.”

A new waiter stops at our table, his thin moustache making him look maybe nineteen. “What can I get you to drink?”

I ignore the bar menu. “What do you recommend?”

He grins. “Thai Monsoon. Very tasty.”

“One Thai Monsoon it is. Lil?”

She glances at the strawberry margarita at the table beside ours. “I’ll have one of those. On ice, not blended.”

He jots down our orders. “Have you decided on dinner yet?”

I squeeze Lily’s thigh. “You cool if I order an appetizer for us to share? We can do entrées later.”

Her focus is on my hand, but she nods. “Perfect.”

“One banana chimichanga,” I tell him. “We’ll figure out the rest after.”

The dude side-eyes me but leaves to place our orders. Lily frowns as she scans the menu, squinting when she comes to the banana dish. “You ordered a dessert. Maybe you should call him back.”

“Nope.”

“What do you mean, nope? Who orders dessert first?”

“I ordered what I wanted.” I ride my hand higher up her inner thigh.
One
of the things I wanted. “I mean, seriously, did you read it? Deep-fried banana with chocolate and caramel, vanilla ice cream, and roasted cashews. If you tell me there’s something else you want on that menu, you’re lying.”

She unleashes one of her famous eye rolls. “Okay, it sounds amazing, but it’s dessert. Didn’t your mother teach you to eat it last?”

“If I get full off dinner and don’t get to taste that, I’ll be pissed. May as well start with the good stuff. These days, I’m all about having what I want.”

She lowers her hand to her lap and places it over mine. “Then let’s have what we want.”

Some morons think foreplay is all about the Golden Triangle. They’ll dry-hump an unsuspecting victim until there’s enough friction to lose skin. Think a-fucking-gain. Over the next three hours, Lily and I touch—from casual to downright erotic—each brush buzzing down my spine.

She skims my ear. I tickle her shoulder.

She drags a nail up my thigh. I graze her ribs.

We test each other’s limits, and I find mine lacking. Sleeping in a bed with her and keeping my hands to myself might be more than I can take. I’m just a man. Only human. And I’ve wanted her for nine months.

Here’s hoping she overcomes her nerves.

She’s relaxed as we walk to the hotel, holding my hand and smiling at the moon. “The best night ever,” she says to the stars. I’m pretty sure they wink back. “We need to have that banana dessert every day, and the shrimp was amazing, and, God, those margaritas. To think I barely left my room before you got here.”

“Glad you did?”

She sighs. “So glad. Snorkeling tomorrow will be a blast.”

“It will. Just don’t pee in the water.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sharks are attracted to urine.”

“Nice try. I watch Shark Week.”

“Swear to God,” I say. “Makes them curious. Especially if you eat asparagus.”

She whacks my arm.

“And beets,” I add. “You definitely don’t want to eat beets. It’s like pissing blood.”

She smacks me harder.

We turn onto our property, and Reef runs to greet us. Instead of patting the dog, Lily stares at the door to our suite, stiff as a board. She blinks and fidgets and picks her nails. So much for relaxed. Now’s the time for me to be a man and figure out this boyfriend stuff, which includes ignoring my eager dick.

I unwind her hands and spin her toward me. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me. I know you’ve only been with Kevin, but it’s no big deal. We can just sleep next to each other. Nothing more, if that’s what you want.”

She exhales with her eyes closed. “Thank you for saying that. It’s not that I don’t want you.” Eyes open, she drags her gaze over my chest. “I really, really do. But I’m nervous, and it’s been a crazy day. It might be best for tonight. But I want you to sleep beside me.”

That probably means with clothes on, but I’ll take what I can get. “You’ll notice I didn’t offer to sleep in the other room. That part wasn’t optional.” I tug her toward the porch.

I let her wash up first. Pretending to busy myself with my phone, I give her enough time to change and get into bed so she doesn’t have to stress about being naked in front of me. What I’m really doing is picturing her in all her natural glory. Creamy skin. Slim thighs. Tits at attention. Some guys are ass men, some all about the boobs. But choosing one part of a woman’s body to adore is like choosing a superpower.

I want it all.

Once I wash up, I strip to my boxers and slide under the crisp white sheets. I don’t miss the way she bites her lip when my shorts fall, or the soft sigh when I hitch my shirt over my head. I doubt she misses the way my cock strains against my boxers.

Dinner was some serious foreplay.

The air conditioning has cooled the room perfectly, and I pull her against me, nothing but a blue silk nightgown covering her. She feels perfect. Better than perfect. Not just the curve of her body against mine. I’ve confided in Lily more than I have in my best friends. She knows I was secretly crushed I didn’t have the grades to study marine biology. She listens as I bitch about my father. She’s the only living soul who knows my mother overdosed. Sure, she laughs at my jokes and talks design with me like no one I’ve ever met, but the hard stuff is easy, too.

With her it’s almost like it doesn’t matter if we have sex.

Revision: If we have sex
tonight
.

Or maybe the next few days. A week tops. Eventually, I will bury myself inside her until I’m all she sees.

Her long hair is loose, and I brush it back from her neck. “You good?”

“Perfect. Thank you for tonight. For this.” She wriggles closer and flattens her hand on my stomach.

I don’t kiss her again. If I taste her strawberry lips, my gentlemanly behavior will turn savage. “Sleep well. And for the record, if you’re feeling frisky during the night, remember the pact. Do what you want when you want.”

Superpower wish: mind control.

She slips her knee over mine. “Noted.”

We inhale simultaneously, and our chests press together. An outdoor light casts a muted glow into the room, and I close my eyes, unsure how I got so lucky.

Then I get luckier.

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but the sheets are at our knees, and Lily’s still tucked to my side. She feathers her hand over my abs, slow circles and figure eights, gliding toward my boxers and up again. I can’t see her face, not with how she’s studying the outline of my rigid cock.

I often wake up ready for action. Add Lily into the mix, and I’m a Navy SEAL.

Her next pass drags under the waistband of my boxers, and I groan. She’s barely touching me, and I’m practically panting, heat rushing my dick. I don’t speak. Don’t want to risk ruining the spell she’s cast. But I know Lily, and I know she wants more, or she’s curious. She’s just too timid to make a move. The good friend that I am, I take her wrist and place her hand on my erection. There may be cotton between her fingers and my straining cock, but my dick is unaware. It stiffens like I’ve been pumped full of adamantium. (I doubt Wolverine ever had to use Viagra.)