Page 19 of Hearts Adrift (A Texas Beach Town Romance #4)

“This is all my fault,” River keeps saying to me.

“We don’t know who sent it,” I remind him as we walk back to the car. “It could’ve been my ex.”

That surprises him. “Really? He’d be that creepy?”

“Who knows? I apparently didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. Didn’t the message seem a bit … personal to you?”

“Strangely.”

“So if it was some reporter or journalist, I think that pic would’ve ended up straight online. Doesn’t that make more sense? This was definitely personal. Someone I know.”

“You’re talking so fast. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“And if it wasn’t Theo—which it totally was—it could have just been a friend playing around with me.”

“Some friend.”

“I have some weird friends,” I point out as I step over a fallen branch. “I sure don’t think it’s a psycho fan of yours, otherwise the message would’ve been far more threatening, like ‘River’s mine, stay away from him!’ or maybe some nasty insult toward me … calling me a star fucker …”

“Star fucker?”

“No matter who or what this nonsense is, I think going back to the bungalow is definitely out of the question. At least until I know for sure that it was a prank.”

“Then where should we go? Are you sure we shouldn’t just stay here? The beach seemed fairly safe to me.”

“Yeah, until the next message I get is a shot of my bare ass while the two of us are fucking. Then I’ll be the second nudist living on this beach.” I stop. “I … do have an idea. But it’s probably a terrible one.”

“My years in the industry taught me the only terrible idea is the one you don’t share.”

I squirm with the mere notion that’s wrestled its way into my mind since leaving the beach. I don’t like it at all. It is far too risky and has the potential of blowing up in all of our faces.

But seven minutes later, here we are. Pulling up to the hidden parking area in front of my house.

“Is this …?” he starts to ask.

“My sisters should still be at the Fair,” I tell him. “Not sure about my dad. His car’s here, but that means nothing ‘cause he walks everywhere. Fair’s just down the street. If he’s home, we have to sneak past him.”

“Are you stashing me away in a closet or something?”

“Hmm, I don’t see the game room light on … which usually means he isn’t home. Think we got lucky.”

“Finn,” he tries, but I’m already out of the car, pushing on.

It’s at the back door that he catches up—the hat I gave him still tucked partway over his face, shades on, collar of his jacket up over his neck—and he puts a hand on my arm to stop me.

“Isn’t this taking it a bit too far? You’re about to hide me in your home after someone’s snapped creepy pics of you, someone who can potentially be dangerous … ”

“Y’know what I realized on the drive over? Our lovely photographer might not even know you exist.”

He doesn’t follow. “What do you mean?”

“I’m convinced now,” I go on, “that it was , in fact, my ex. All he saw was me coming out of the bungalow. Did I bring a hookup there? Did I just need space away from my sisters? Theo may not even know that you exist. He didn’t mention you at all in the message.

Just me having a late night. Probably to taunt me.

Or he thought it was funny. So this ,” I say, gesturing at the door, “is merely a precaution . Until we can be certain no one’s found you. ”

He tucks the hat I gave him over his face more. “If that was your ex, why send the pics from a burner number? He could’ve easily just sent them from his own number.”

I give it half a second’s thought. “People … do really weird things when they’re jealous. Or feel hurt. Or trying not to look jealous or hurt. Don’t know. How would I? I’ve never had an ex before. This is new territory for me.”

I push open the door, and in we go.

The house is silent. No TV or radio on. No footsteps. It doesn’t take me long to determine no one’s home. “Clear,” I call back to River—only to find him right by my side.

He’s already taken off his hat, shades, and jacket, now slung over his arm as he looks around. “Livin’ large on the Gulf Coast, huh?”

“It’s too big,” I complain. “I think we only stayed here because it’s a family home, and my dad has memories here with Mom. Us, too, of course. Then there’re Grandma and Grandpa who invested their lives into the Harbor …”

“Wish I had a big family legacy to speak of,” he says with a wistful smile, circling into the kitchen.

“I’m the first in mine to break out of our sad cycle of self-destruction to make a name for myself.

Well … maybe that is still up for debate …

the self-destruction part. Got a knack for putting my career in jeopardy.

You might be surprised to learn this is not the first scandal I’ve caused.

” He stops at the counter by the window. “You can see the bungalow from here.”

“You’ve been involved in other scandals?”

“Do you watch me from here?” he asks, looking at me.

I trip over my own foot, try to correct my balance, slam sideways into the fridge door, knock off three magnets and send them scattering to the floor, then play it off like I’m just leaning against the fridge with my arms crossed. “No,” I answer finally in a squeak.

“You’ve watched me take my coffee out onto that back porch early in the mornings?”

I blink and push away from the fridge. “You take your coffee on the back porch? I’ve never seen—”

“So you do watch me.”

I choke off a wave of outrage. “I didn’t—I-I said—”

He grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me right up in front of him. “You’re so easy to fluster.”

“I don’t watch you like a creep.”

“What if I’m into it?” His face draws closer, his voice lowering to a near growl. “Maybe I’d strut out there naked, if I knew you were my only audience.”

My only audience …

How ironic, that for a man running away from an ever-watchful world, the idea of me watching him turns him on.

“Why do I get the sense that you’re hard?” he asks, his voice gravelly and playful. Because I am hard , I’d say, if I had any voice left. “Can I check?” he asks almost politely.

I’m out of breath. “U-Uh-huh …”

He slowly slides a hand down my body, over the front of my shorts, then gently yet efficiently cups my junk with his hand. His lips curl with delight as he discovers just how hard this brief moment at the counter has made me—and how easy it was for him to claim my manhood with a hand.

“I think our time on that beach wasn’t interrupted,” he whispers, comes closer, and finishes: “Just relocated .”

“River …” I start to say.

His fingers slide to the bottom of my shirt, then peel it upwards off over my head, lifting my arms up—but stops before pulling it all the way off, trapping me with my arms up in the air.

Then his tongue touches my left nipple.

It is absolute electricity when he teases my nipples.

My fingertips come alive. The tips of my toes, even.

Every part of my body wakes up even from within.

It’s damned near as effective as a cock up my ass when my exposed nipples are tortured—but the way River does it has me melted.

My nipples are at his mercy. My body, too.

Just a button and a zipper will leave my throbbing cock as vulnerable to him as the rest of me continues to be.

I find myself backed against the kitchen island with my face and arms trapped within the confining material of my tight shirt. How cruel River is, to do this to me.

To learn this weakness of mine so early.

To know there’s no fight in me I’ll put up to end this.

I could be willingly his to torture for hours.

And just when I think I can bear it, he switches sides, taking my other nipple under his playful tongue.

I really start to squirm now, bucking under his touch, but his hands take hold of me, embracing my body as he continues with twice as much commitment, destroying me.

He’s pressed up against me now, and I can’t help but hump him with my confined cock, growing more desperate for release by the second.

I don’t think I ever prioritized sex in my life.

Not until now. Not until I was freed from Theo. Not until River tore down my doors and gave me permission to love myself again.

Suddenly my shirt is pulled off the rest of the way and pitched aside.

I blink through the blindness of sudden light as River’s face appears before mine, capturing my lips in a kiss.

His hands slide up my bare chest, grazing my nipples with such tenderness like an unexpected epilogue, then wrapping around behind me to hug our bodies together.

He is just as hard as I am. As we kiss, our hips instinctively begin to knead into one another’s, our cocks having a hot exchange of their own, getting to know each other.

Then his hands drag down to my ass.

Not the first time he’s done that.

I’m sensing that if nipples are my thing, ass is his.

“Like my ass?” I breathe against his lips.

“You must do lots of squats.”

“One should never skip leg day.”

“What about ass day?”

“Ass day is leg—”

No sooner than I get the words out, he flips me around, pressing me forward against the counter.

As his lips come close to my ear for a nip, he gently humps me from behind.

There’s no mistaking how animal we’re quickly becoming, less words needed to communicate both our desires and our obvious open-invite consent to each other.

“Maybe I should’ve complained about a sore ass cheek instead of my shoulder when I saw you last night,” I joke. “You’d probably have eaten me out.”

“Oh, Finn …” he growls into my ear—then grips both my shorts and underwear and peels them straight down to the kitchen floor. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”

“What’re you—?”

The next breath I take, River’s face slips between my ass cheeks.

His tongue discovers somewhere new to torture.

The rest of my words are choked right out of me as I grip the island counter with both hands, wide-eyed.

This is something Theo has never done to me.

Or anyone on earth, for that matter.