Page 42 of Right Side of Paradise

“Working on your birthday?” I took a seat on Rico’s lap and melted into him when his arms tightened around me. He buried his face in my neck, inhaling like he’d been waiting for this moment for hours.

The nap we all laid down for after our showers this morning turned out to be just for everyone but Rico.

When I woke up for lunch, he’d been in his office, and had stayed tucked away in here even after Christian brought him food. Now it was time for us to leave for dinner, and he was still in here.

“This morning got my mind going and I couldn’t relax until I got it out.”

I turned on his lap to face his workstation, his hold on my waist steadying me as I got comfortable. “Can I see?”

Rico reached around me to open his sketchbook.

The page in front of us had a series of coral, fish and conch shell motifs in black ink.

It was beachy and cute. Two things Rico tried to distance himself from, whether he admitted it or not.

His signature style was coastal and whimsical, with fluid, overlapping motifs.

But this one was distinctly different, and the longer I looked, the more details I picked out.

A Jeep. A dolphin. The outline of a wave.

A scalloped border encased each sketch, making them look like limited-edition stamps someone had crammed onto a postcard.

It looked like home.

More specifically, a visual love letter to Onyx Cove, and now I was smiling.

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I don’t know.” He moved behind me again, pulling up the Photoshop window on his desktop. The scanned design was there, enlarged but still in its raw form.

“It’s nostalgic, I love it,” I complimented, tilting my head to take it in. “You did a good job.”

He kissed my shoulder then rested his chin there, studying the screen with me. “Don’t tell me shit like that when we’re supposed to be leaving in an hour.”

“You don’t want me to tell you how talented you are?” I turned on his lap so I could look at him, spurred on by the way his lids lowered under my attention. I grabbed his face, staring directly into his eyes. “I love you and I’m so proud of you.”

When I dipped my head for a kiss, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, taking over before the thought could cross my mind. Then he closed his eyes to whisper, “I love you too.”

“Enough to license me that design for an upcoming project?”

The man underneath me went rigid before he looked up at me with curiosity. “What project?”

“I want to start a hometown series on my page. I was talking to Soul about it last night.” His softening features squeezed at my heart. “I already know I want to start with Mr. Tiny. Then Christian. And Lyric...”

I trailed, searching his face for any sign of approval. His rapt look made words flow from me, until I was telling him everything me and Soul fell asleep talking about on the balcony last night.

There were ten businesses on my list and if they all said yes, I’d spend a minimum of six weeks shadowing them to curate their story and what made Onyx Cove special to them.

“Six weeks with each business owner?” Rico asked when I came up for air.

“Yeah.”

“Like a month and a half with ten different companies?”

“Mhmm.” I nodded, tracing the stubble on his jaw with my fingertips.

“Could take a year,” he observed.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You’re staying home for a year?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about taking a break from traveling and staying home for a while. What’s wrong with that?” I wanted to know.

“Nothing, baby.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times before his smile took over his face. “This day keeps getting better,” he murmured, holding tight to my forearm as he kissed my wrist and palm.

With or without the project, the thought of staying home had been floating in my head for a while. I wasn’t staying for Rico, but I couldn’t lie and say seeing him so happy didn’t make the decision easier.

“You can have the design,” he whispered, kissing my neck. His other hand tugged at the snug material of my dress. “Why you got on real clothes?”

Snickering at his aggravation, I shifted on his lap. “Because we’re going out to celebrate your birthday. I came in here to get you,” I reminded him, my words fading into a moan when his lips found the shell of my ear.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm—”

Rico stood with me still in his grasp before setting me on my feet at the edge of his desk.

My heart quickened at the weighted silence of each passing second.

He said nothing, but the soft sound of his shorts unbuckling told me enough.

The swoosh they made when they hit the floor gave my pussy a new pulse.

And the strong hand at the center of my back made me submit.

“Bend over, baby.” His voice was so quiet but so authoritative. And I folded. Without question.

Until the side of my face was pressed against the glass surface of his desk and my legs were spread with one thing in mind.

The air in his office cooled the back of my thighs as he eased my dress up and tugged my panties to the side.

He nudged my entrance with his tip, teasing me and spreading my arousal all over him until I tried to push back on him.

I spent an hour blow drying my hair in sections, and another hour on my makeup. And right now, I couldn’t be bothered to care how I looked once he was done with me.

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy,” he promised, entering me in one deliciously painful thrust. “Then we’re going to dinner because I want everybody to see how fucking lucky I am.”

He pulled out and pumped into me so hard a muffled cry coated my throat.

Rico kept his hand on my back, holding me down and fucking me hard.

I came with an embarrassing quickness, gasping and quivering around the thickness of his dick. But he didn’t stop. His hips jerked with another deep thrust and pulled another whimper from me.

Grabbing my hand, he laced our fingers on top of his desk and rocked into me slowly, his pace giving me time to memorize every vein along his length and count each inch as it disappeared inside of me.

He bent down, trapping my earlobe between his teeth and promised hoarsely, “I’m not done with you yet.”

Through all my whimpering and incoherence, I said, “I never want you to be done with me.”

An hour later, I was in new clothes, standing in the kitchen with Soul and Christian. My hair and makeup had been salvageable, but the wet spot on the back of my dress was a different story.

Christian checked his phone for the fourth time in five minutes. “This is why I told y’all the wrong time. We still ahead of schedule by thirty minutes.”

The bottle of rum in Soul’s hand landed on the counter with a heavy thunk as he gaped at Chris.

“What? I knew somebody in this damn house was gone make us late.”

“Who’s late?” Rico asked, walking into the kitchen.

All eyes zeroed in on him, and this man had the nerve to smile like he was shy.

I shook my head, making sure my phone was charging before letting my eyes land on everybody in the room.

Tan and white was the color scheme for the night. The only deviations were Rico’s red shirt and my pink heels.

We looked good as hell. Especially Soul. His shirt was open, and all I could think about was how the indentations of his abs would feel under my hands if I sat on his lap right now…

“I’m pouring everybody a shot before we leave,” Soul said, turning to grab the glasses as Rico closed in on us around the island.

Happiness had been humming through me all day, and it intensified now that we were all standing in the same place. I tried to take a mental snapshot of this moment, knowing full well these were my last moments of sobriety before a wild ass night.

Rico kissed Christian’s complaints into oblivion, while Soul poured up two shots of tequila for everybody.

I was too caught up in how damn good the moment felt to question how one shot had turned into two.

I knocked the first one back with no chaser, then I blinked, and Rico was standing in front of me, a different bottle near his lips.

“Open your mouth, baby.”

The rough but quiet timbre of his voice and his hand around my throat made me fold. Again. Eyes locked on his, I let him tip my head back and opened my mouth.

He hovered over my face, his gaze dark and devious before the corners of his mouth lifted. “You let me do whatever I want to you, and I love that shit, Harlow.”

Denying the truth was pointless. The only three people who could do what they wanted to me were all in this room.

My pulse slowed and I could hear every beat of my heart as he poured tequila in his mouth then leaned over and spit it directly into mine.

His thumb caressed my neck as the liquor hit the back of my throat. I swallowed and blinked up at him. Waiting for more. Waiting for anything he wanted to give me, honestly.

But he set the bottle down behind me and crashed his lips into mine instead.

He kissed me so deeply, I almost forgot it wasn’t just the two of us in this kitchen.

Licking my kiss-swollen lips, I inhaled sharply and didn’t bother hiding my grin.

It was going to be a good ass night.