Sex on the Beach (Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin) (9 page)

Fortunately, the towel had gone—somewhere. She didn’t care where, only that when she reached down to torment Jeremy as he was tormenting her, she encountered only his latex-clad erection. With lube. A nice touch. Good thing they
weren’t
on the beach, or that would have just attracted even more sand.

She twisted away from his hand and angled his cock, attempting to sink down onto it. Jeremy grabbed her waist and kept her from completing the maneuver. Only his tip penetrated her, enough to tease but not to satisfy. It was worse than nothing, in its way.

“Wait.”

“No...”

“Shh. Don’t move yet. Trust me.”

Did she trust him? She must have, because she stopped squirming and held still while he lowered one hand to her clit, pressing his thumb over the center of her need in a slow, deliberate circle.

Tingles of anticipation careened through her, chasing each other between her hips and down the backs of her trembling thighs. The urge to move her hips was almost too much, but if she moved she’d dislodge him, and she wasn’t willing to give up the contact or the knowledge that if she changed her mind she could encompass him in one easy stroke. Easy, because she was so wet around him that the breeze was chilling her, a delicious contrast to the heat of his cock and thumb. She was at that magical tipping point, still able to forestall the climax in theory, but only a few strokes away from coming if she wanted to. Equipoise.

But she wanted to, so badly she could hardly breathe.

“Please.”

“Soon. You’re almost there, aren’t you?” His thumb never stopped its measured, inexorable pace.

“Oh God...”

She was there,
right there
, and Jeremy’s hand shifted on her waist, suddenly coaxing her down instead of up. Everything happened at once,
not enough
tumbling over into
yes
,
yes
,
yes
as she slid onto his cock. The sensation of him entering her was almost too much to comprehend, too good, too much. Not only because she was so ready to be filled, but because he had known what the wait would do to her. Take her breath and her reservations away, leaving nothing but the pleasure.

The orgasm itself was quick and merciless, ripping through her and laying waste. She was a rag doll afterward, all boneless compliance as Jeremy bucked up into her, his arms wrapped around her to keep her from flying apart. He must have been riding the same fine line Amanda had been on when they started, because in what seemed like a very short time he groaned and shuddered, his whole body tensing as he came.

They melted into the lounge chair for long, silent minutes. Amanda’s head was nestled on Jeremy’s shoulder, and once she had motor control again she flicked her tongue over the closest spot on his neck. Moving her head any farther was out of the question, so that was the closest she could manage to a kiss. He tasted ocean-salty with a clean finish like hotel soap.

“You’re gonna need another shower.”

“Meh. We should totally count this as sex on a beach. I mean, the sand is right over there. When the wind is right, there’s even a little ocean spray happening.”

“It’s a
beachfront
cottage,” she added. “Were you planning to check it off a list or something? Sex on a beach, check. Sex on a boat, check. Sex in a bed, check. Sex with a goat, I sincerely hope not?”

“A life list. Like bird-watching, only it’s sex.”

“I think that’s just a purity test. Julie and Alan are rocking an actual bird-watching list, by the way. They started it in the limo.”

“Together? Oh, that’s foreplay.”

She lifted her head at that, beaming at him. “Exactly.”

The motion of lifting herself that small amount, peeling her chest off his, reminded her they were more or less naked, and also quite damp on a cool, breezy night.

“Now can we go to bed?”

He shrugged, rousing enough to nibble the top of her shoulder. “If our legs work enough to walk that far.”

They had to take it in stages, and the trip was not without its painful moments. But eventually, they got there.

Chapter Thirteen

Jeremy woke to the now-familiar tiger-stripe sunbeams fanning over the bed. Resisting the urge to clutch the space next to him to make sure it was occupied, he looked instead to the space next to the closet where Amanda’s rolling suitcase still stood. If he could see her makeup bag from his current angle, that would be absolute confirmation, but he’d have to go with what he had.

She was here. He could roll over, reach for her, and she would be warm in his arms. Real, solid, not the ephemeral dream version of Amanda that had haunted so many of his mornings this past year.

Finally, unable to forbear any longer, he turned his head. Then his shoulders, his body, eventually lining himself up behind her in “their” favorite position. He could take the mental quotes away now, maybe. Tentatively. Put it on the table, at least.

Because she had to know he valued her opinions and thoughts. She had to know he valued her. And, more complicated, know that he considered her when she wasn’t there, knew she might have an opinion that didn’t instantly align with his, and that was okay. Things didn’t have to go his way, or her way.
They
had a way, secret option C, and together they could find it.

It would be challenging, though, because, boy howdy, did the girl have some issues. She called them daddy issues, but to him it seemed more like borderline abuse. She’d had to grow up unsure of what the next day would bring, had to learn early on that a friend today might be a fading spot in the rearview tomorrow and there was nothing she could do about that. And she’d had to learn it over and over, not because of deployments or transfers but because her father had practically gotten himself run out of every town they’d lived in until she moved to California. He probably gambled, and certainly broke leases and employment contracts, and ruined his family’s life chasing after...what? A quick buck? A few months of freedom from debt collectors?

Anger surged as fresh and brutal as it had the night before. Jeremy wanted to fly home with Amanda just so he could punch her father’s fucking lights out. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t that guy, he didn’t do that sort of thing. But he wanted to, and he suspected it would be a good long time before he felt otherwise. How dare that guy? He’d had a beautiful, charming, brilliant wife—whose subsequent success in finance suggested that they’d only managed as well as they did for so long because she took careful steps to mitigate the damage her husband was doing. And Amanda, brilliant as well, and she should have been able to walk into any school at any age and
know
that if nothing else was true, at least she was her daddy’s goddamn special perfect princess.

They were so strong, these two women. Stronger than life had ever required him to be. He had suspected it before, but he knew it now, and he felt unworthy. He did. With a solid business, doing good works in the community, a homeowner before he was thirty, and everything else he had going for him. Unworthy of them. So how the hell did her dad excuse what he’d done? How could he have failed to see the undeserved fortune in front of him?

Amanda stirred, and he realized he’d not only spooned her, he’d been clutching her to his chest. When he loosened his grip, she patted his arm then felt her way up to his shoulder muscles. “You were growling just now, did you know? And you’re all tense. Jeremy, are you still thinking about beating up my dad? You need to let that go, sweetie.”

He growled again, intentionally this time, and fastened his teeth very gently on her shoulder, pretend-chomping the tender flesh.

“Oh, I see. You’ve just turned into a werewolf. I hope you’re the sexy kind, not the scary kind. And that your wolf form is actually a wolf, not some stupid wolf-man thing. Anyway, carry on.”

Stifling a laugh, he latched on to her neck instead, sucking the skin hard enough that he probably left a mark. He sort of hoped he did.

“Aw, no vampires. Vampires are so passé. Now it’s all about kinky billionaire playboys. Don’t you read?”

“Not about kinky billionaire playboys.”

“Fair enough.” She twisted around enough to grace him with a swift kiss, then flopped back down. “Good morning.”

“It is a good morning. I have a plan. Do you want to hear it?”

“Does it have something to do with whatever’s going on with your right hand? Because if so, I think I already figured it out. I think there’s room for growth and change in your plan. We should discuss.”

But that was as far as the plan proceeded. A knock on the door sent Jeremy running for a robe, and Amanda wiggling deep under the covers, until the only thing showing was her adorable face and that shock of crazy blond bedhead.

It was Alan, and he was really lucky that Jeremy had already spent time that morning reminding himself he wasn’t the type of guy to go around punching other guys in the face.

“This is some horrible timing, man. I mean, sorry, TMI, whatever. But really. Horrible.” The robe did precious little to hide Jeremy’s boner, which was also TMI. But Alan had to take what he could get, considering he’d showed up unannounced before breakfast.

“I’m sorry. Really. Thank you for letting me in. But I need...Amanda. Hi, Amanda!” He waved, and she snuck one hand out from under the covers to respond.

“Hi. This is unexpected. And weird.”

“I waited until nine.” He shrugged, looking mortified but determined. “Julie’s on a horseback-riding thing, and I only have until she gets back, so time was of the essence.”

“I’m ordering room service.” Jeremy strode to the bathroom and snatched the other robe off its hook, tossing it across the bed for Amanda on his way to the cordless room phone. He pulled it from the cradle and kept right on walking. “From on the patio. With Alan. Feel free to shower first, babe. You want a freedom omelet, extra suffrage on the side, and real cream for your coffee, right?”

“Yeppers.”

“Cool. Be right back.”

“But I kind of came to talk to—”

“Patio.” Jeremy stalked past Alan and grabbed his shirt, pulling him along until they were free of the door. The blinds were still drawn, so Amanda should have enough privacy to make the dash to the bathroom he was sure she intended. “You can talk over breakfast. I’m not letting my girl go until she’s clean and fed.”

“Uh. Is she a racehorse now, or is there some kinky thing going on I don’t want to know about?”

Drawing a deep breath and releasing it, Jeremy rephrased, “Clean, fed, happy, and
not
mortified as hell that her friend’s fuckbuddy is standing in the room where she is lying in a bed naked because we were just discussing plans for the day that involved being naked in a bed and
did not include you
.” He stopped short of whipping his robe open to illustrate his point with an angry erection. It was going down now, anyway, saving its energy for another time. “She’s pretty modest. Deal with it.”

“I apologize.” Alan stood there, eyes cast down, looking for all the world like a whipped puppy. He might as well have rolled over on his back and displayed his throat.

As a lifelong geek, Jeremy had never had the full alpha-male experience before, but he realized he was bulked up enough now that Alan might actually fear him. Literally, physically fear him. Jeremy suddenly understood both the terrible appeal and the danger of being the biggest and strongest. Even if, in this case, it was only because the guy on the other side of the equation was a medium-size desk jockey who liked weekend sports but never actually worked out.

Testosterone
.
I
has it
.

And it sort of scared him. His trainer had warned him, but until now he hadn’t grokked it.

“No big deal.”

He forced himself off that edge, trying to be conscious of the clean, damp ocean air as he breathed it in and breathed the bad vibes out. He ordered up breakfast, then went back to breathing mindfully until he felt like pure crunchy granola and world peace inside. He wasn’t a native Californian for nothing, after all.

“So why are you here, anyway?” he asked Alan when he felt he was centered enough to proceed.

Alan cleared his throat. “I wanted to buy Julie some flowers, and I thought Amanda could help?”

Are you asking me or telling me?
“And this required an early-morning visit because...?”

Alan flicked his phone on and flashed it at Jeremy, reminding him of the time. Not that early, except when factoring in the high likelihood of hangovers and/or vacation sex.

“I mean a lot of flowers. Like...a roomful. I want to turn the room into a flower jungle. That type of thing.”

“A flower jungle.”

“Yeah.” Alan seemed a little belligerent.

“Right on.”

“It’s a grand gesture.”

Jeremy sat on the chair opposite Alan, tucking the robe in so he didn’t flash the guy. “You have to be careful with those, man. They do
not
work out like you expect them to.”

A pained expression crossed Alan’s face. “I...already paid for the flowers.”

Dude
,
you are fucked
. “Well, okay then. Jungle room. How is Amanda supposed to help? Isn’t it pretty much just...open room, insert flowers?”

“Well, there’s placement. I have no idea if it looks good or not, but Julie would know. And Amanda will know. So that will help. And also I’m not sure if Jules is allergic to anything, and Amanda’s been her best friend since third grade, so she’ll probably know. I considered calling her parents to ask, but if I call and then she shoots me down—”

“Yeah, that’s a bad idea. Good that you didn’t do that.”

The guy looked kind of forlorn, and from Jeremy’s current lofty position of having figured out at least a small portion of his shit last night, he felt charitable. “Okay, you can borrow Amanda. But only for a few hours.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s...that’s a statement. Your voice should go down at the end.
Thanks
.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, I was trying to—”

“Dude, I’m fucking with you. Lighten up.”

Right. “You’re not getting any of this breakfast.”

He pretended not to notice later when Alan absconded with a croissant and a cup of coffee. And Amanda. But he was reasonably confident he would get her back within a few hours. And without a scratch on her.

“I’m not a car, Jeremy.”

“I thought you were a racehorse,” Alan said cheerfully.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower, then I’ll just come find you, okay?”

“I think that would be best,” Amanda said demurely.

He had really been geared up before Alan came knocking, and Amanda pulled the demure thing off
so
well. Sexy librarian was also another masterful piece in her repertoire, of course. And once, for Halloween, she’d played a hot anime schoolgirl. Even thinking about it made him feel like a bad person. He wondered if she still had that little plaid skirt, or the white cotton panties she’d worn underneath, with the tiny pink bow in front. They’d seemed so plain and innocent until he realized how sheer they were, and...

The shower wasn’t that quick, after all. Afterward he downed the last of the coffee and meandered toward the main hotel, in no particular hurry. Amanda had texted and warned that the jungle-room project was going to take some time, but they were gone from the florist’s by the time he got there. So was a fair amount of the stock. The woman behind the counter wore a cat-in-cream smile, and he could only guess at the amount she’d just pocketed.

“Good morning! You never picked up your bouquet!”

He’d forgotten all about it. It seemed a lifetime ago that he’d stood here, stressing about whether to add the vagina-looking flowers. As if any of that would have mattered. They’d been charged to his room, anyway. A sunk cost.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Are you looking for your friends? They’re in the room, working on the surprise already. So did you want to go ahead and take the bouquet now? It’s still in the cooler, I was planning to call and ask if you’d like it delivered somewhere.”

No grand gestures
. “I don’t need it, thanks. But if there’s anybody honeymooning, could you just send it to their room? Not somebody in one of the big suites, just somebody in a regular room who wouldn’t be expecting it?”

“I’ll talk to the concierge and see what we can do. That’s very generous of you, sir. I hope it’s not...well, sad news?”

She thought he’d been shot down before he ever got a chance to present the flowers. “Not at all! No, it’s actually great news. But it turned out I didn’t need flowers to make it work.”

The woman chuckled. She didn’t seem much older than Jeremy, but she looked as if she’d seen it all, every intersection of romance and flowers. Probably she
had
, considering where she worked. “I can’t really approve of that, for obvious reasons. But congratulations anyway.”

Would Amanda want the bouquet? Maybe after spending all morning arranging flowers for somebody else, she’d be pleased to have some for herself. But again, the grand-gesture problem. “Say, do you have anything...plain? Like a simple kind of flower?”

“Simple? Like a rosebud, maybe, or a single orchid?”

“No, that’s too much. Not too much money, too much
flower
.” He scanned the glass-doored cooler, looking at all the buckets full of blossoms. Alan hadn’t taken them all. There were plenty of roses left, some things that looked like carnations, a few things he couldn’t even begin to identify, and one bin full of blooms that seemed completely out of place in such an exotic locale. “A daisy. Can I get one of those?”

“Just one, by the stem? I’m not even sure what I’d charge you for it. We don’t usually—oh, what the hell. Sure.” She slid the door open and retrieved a single white daisy, poking its stem into a plastic water vial and wrapping it carefully in green paper before presenting it to him.

“Thanks, that’s perfect. What do I owe you?”
She probably thinks I’m nuts
.

“On the house. And yeah, it really is kind of perfect. I’d wish you good luck, but I doubt you need it.”

Single scrawny daisy, the flower choice of the hopeless romantic looking to make the ungrandest of gestures. She’d seen this before, too, Jeremy suspected, but he didn’t care.