Page 15

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

John

“Dunking Adalee and Hagan in the ocean was a terrible idea.”

“They lost, Becca.”

“I know, but Adalee choked on the saltwater for ten minutes,” she says. Her shoulders slump as she sits and sinks on the corner of the bed.

This is why people are drawn to Becca Shearer. (Yes, I refuse to use her former married name, Dumas.) She opens her arms wide for anyone who needs comforting. No one is exempt from her love. I saw it so many times in college.

A friend was cheated on. Bex was there.

A child in the hospital dreamed of being a cheerleader. Bex was there.

A teammate was injured. Bex was there.

I needed help with anatomy. Bex was halfway there.

And when my dad married and divorced his fourth wife, Bex was there.

I park myself beside her, and the comforter bunches up between us, but I’m still close enough to smell the ocean breeze in her hair.

“She was probably faking it so Hagan would take her back to their hotel room,” I joke, lifting my brows in quick succession, followed by squeezing her knee until she squeals.

When she quits laughing, she leaves a red mark on my arm from pinching me. “Is that all you boys think about… sex? She could have died.”

“It’s not all I think about.”

Her lips pucker and twist, and her eyes crease. “What percentage of time are you thinking about sex? I bet every time you see Stella in a bikini or…”

“Wow. You have it all wrong. I can’t remember a time when I initiated sex with Stella.

” I release a long, mocking sigh. I twist my body, so my knee points to the center of the bed.

My body opens to her side. As I swipe her hair off her face, her gaze slowly meets mine.

“But you. Bex, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since college. ”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. And don’t play dumb… you’re anything but dumb.”

“This is what I’ve wanted to do since we reconnected this past year.” My hand slides to the nape of her neck, gently pulling her head closer to mine. I allow myself to look at her in a way I’ve hidden since college, at least most of the time.

Her hair glimmers in the sunlight that streaks through the trees and into the villa, and her gold strands sparkle.

I’ve never known my hands to shake, but they are now.

I’m so close to having the woman of my dreams yet paralyzed with fear.

No matter what happens right now, Bex will come to her smart girl senses and leave my arrogant ass on the curb.

But I don’t care. If she breaks my heart, it will be worth just one kiss.

Tears balance in Becca’s eyes, which could be a good or a bad omen. There’s no more waiting to show her how I feel. My world shifts, and the sounds of the island drift just out of reach.

In a hushed tone, she says my name. Is it a question? Is it an attempt to stop what’s happening?

Our breaths mingle together as our salt and sun-kissed lips touch for the first time since college. My heart ricochets from my rib cage as her lips part for me. Tender kisses overlap again and again. Years of unspoken dreams hang on this one kiss.

Wild horses stampede through my veins, and there’s no way to slow them down unless I’m doused by a bucket of ice.

As my finger pads graze her neck, I feel her heavy pulse thumping.

Sliding my hand to cup her face, a tear slips down her cheek, and I wonder if she’s thinking what I am.

How badly we want and need each other . Or if she’s thinking this will ruin our vacation and possibly our friendship if it doesn’t work out.

Her tear slides between our lips, and our kiss grows hungrier, needier. Her fingers curl into my bicep as a harmonic hum snakes up her airway, releasing as she pulls back for a split second. I tickle her leg as I bunch the hem of her shirt in my hands and lift until we have to separate.

“You wearing my shirt brings out the caveman inside me, but…”

She pushes off the bed, stands in front of me, and raises her arms. “I need a caveman right now.”

Holy Mother of Jesus, this is not what I expected—at all.

I don’t want our first time having sex to be something she regrets.

It should be loving and caring, but controlling the alpha in me will be hard.

My breaths are deep as I stand, bringing her shirt over her toned stomach, her chest, and up her arms until I have her shirt, well, my shirt, in one hand and drop it on the ground.

My head falls to her bare shoulder, pressing an open-lipped kiss to her sticky beach water skin, peppered with grains of sand. She tilts her head, opening for me as my lips place a gentle suctioning assault on her sensitive skin until my lips land on hers once again.

Becca’s hands skim up my chest, and I swear a lightning bolt hits my groin as we deepen the kiss. My dick hurts, it’s so hard. The way her hands feel on my skin is pure enlightenment as she presses to her toes, jumping and wrapping her legs around my waist .

This is happening. Over a decade later, it’s happening.

I pull the band holding her ponytail, and her hair falls in distinct waves onto her shoulders. A smile tips at the corners of her mouth. “It’s time to pay you back.”

“What for?” I ask, feeling a lump in my throat.

“You said I owed you, and I want you to make me feel like I’m the only girl on earth.”

My heart leaps into my throat, unable to contain my emotions. I stutter, and my lips tremble. “I… don’t want you to feel like you owe me… for anything. I was j-j-joking at the beach.”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you nervous? I’ve never heard you stutter.” Becca’s fingers trickle through my hair.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” I press a featherlight kiss to her soft lips. “In my opinion, you’re the only woman on earth.”

We kiss until all the saltiness is gone from our lips, and I pull the string tied around her neck.

Our chests are pressed together, and it isn’t until I move us against the glass door that our bodies separate enough for the bikini top to fall, getting caught by our middle, and revealing perfect breasts—pink nipples with just enough cushion and weight.

My thumb trails over her nipple, while our mouths crash together. She mumbles into my mouth, “Oh God, fuck me, John.” Satisfaction rolls through me as I think about how many times I’ve dreamed of her saying those exact words.

“Don’t say it unless you mean it, pretty girl.”

She wiggles until I put her down, letting the top fall to the ground, then shimmies out of her bikini bottoms. I step back, swallowing the cotton in my mouth. “You’re b-beautiful.” The white triangles around her tits and privates make her pale, butterscotch skin look bronze.

Just when I expect her to blush, she gives me a delicious, devilish smile and pushes my swim trunks down. Her smile widens when my dick pops out. A bead of pre-cum shimmers, ready for her .

“Can I?” she asks. Her voice is weak and strained.

A heavy, strained chuckle comes from my throat. “Do you really have to ask?”

When her chin drops, I feel like the gum on the bottom of a shoe. I know she didn’t have a good sex life with Dennis. God, I hate thinking about fucking Dennis when she’s naked and on her knees.

“Sorry, I just don’t know what you like or want.”

I lift her chin and stare into her dilated eyes. “I’ll take you on your knees every day of the fucking week, Bex.”

Her cheeks round, and my dick swells, but when her tongue peeks from her lips, my dick bounces toward her.

When men say their dicks do the thinking, they’re not far off.

Intimacy is instinctual. Our bodies know what to do.

Where the brain comes in, is how far to take it?

There’s a wide range of sex and kinks, and I intend to find out exactly what turns Becca inside out.