Page 26 of To Fall or Not to Fall

Chapter Eighteen

T heo

We stumble into my hotel room, unable to keep our hands off each other. I know I should tell her who I am. I know I should admit everything. But in this moment, I don’t want to stop.

“Why are you laughing?” she asks, reaching for my belt buckle and undoing it quickly.

“Because I’ve never had a woman want me this much.”

“Well, don’t you want me to want you?” She gives me an innocent look that would have weaker men than me on their knees.

I can only classify it as seductive, and I growl as I pull her toward me.

When I’m with her, I feel primitive, possessed, and protective.

All I can think about is her and how much I want her.

How much I need her. How much I want to consume her.

I run my fingers down the side of her pretty face and press my lips against hers.

She tastes like strawberries and smells like peaches, and I feel like I’ve never loved fruit as much as I do now.

“I’ve never wanted anyone more before. I know it.

I want to taste the sweet nectar between your legs,” I whisper in her ear, and her eyes widen as she laughs slightly.

“Fine, that did sound a bit goofy,” I admit as she kisses my shoulder.

“Just a little,” she murmurs, her skin soft and silky to the touch.

She’s warm in all the right places, and as I hold her close to me, I can feel her heart racing next to mine.

We’re both naked on the plush bed, and I’m grateful for the fact that the scratchy duvet cover is sitting on the couch in the corner.

The last thing we need is irritating material rubbing against our bare skin.

I push her onto her back and then position myself between her legs.

“You are like a model,” I say, staring at the gentle swell of her breasts, the inward shape of her waist, and the curve of her hips. Her thighs are womanly, her calves beautiful, and her feet dainty. I lean down, grab her left foot, and start to massage it. She arches her back and moans loudly.

“Oh, that feels amazing.” Her voice is a purr, and I harden at the tone. If I could record the sound and listen to it nightly, I would always sleep peacefully.

“I’m glad,” I say as I grab her other foot and massage that, as well.

“You could be a masseuse.” She giggles as she squirms at my touch. I love how ticklish she is. “If you decide to give up the day job.”

“Maybe one day,” I say as I kiss her ankle and then lick up her leg to her thigh.

“You do have to explain to me exactly what you do, one of these days. I feel almost guilty that I don’t really know.”

“What do you mean?” I stop.

“I mean, I know that you’re in business, and you work in the city, and you like to make a lot of money. But I can’t say that I know exactly what you do.”

“I invest,” I say. That’s not exactly a lie. A lot of how I make my money is from investments.

She moans as my tongue flicks against her clit. I don’t want to talk about what I do for a living right now, yet I do want her to know. I don’t want it to be a secret any longer.

I lick her slit, and I feel her body trembling. She’s getting wetter and wetter, her fingers gripping my shoulders. I kiss back up her body to her lips. She digs her nails into my back and runs them up and down, which only makes me harder.

I reach down, adjust my cock between her legs, and slide it in hard and fast. I love the way her pussy lips feel against my skin.

“Oh, yes,” she moans as she holds me close. The sound of her voice is like heaven.

“I’m home,” I mutter against her lips, and she kisses me back passionately.

I move slowly at first and then faster and faster, loving the feeling of being inside her.

“Don’t stop,” she moans as I continue.

I know I won’t be able to last long. I don’t know why, but being with her, loving her, just feels so right. Maybe it’s because I know it can’t last forever, but there’s a subtle sadness to the pleasure that being with her brings.

When I feel her body orgasm, I grunt. I run my fingers through her curly hair, and her eyes widen as I slam into her harder and harder, until I finally erupt inside of her.

We both moan and gasp. I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling. She looks over at me, a small smile on her face.

“That was pretty amazing,” she says, idly running her fingers down my chest.

“How amazing?” I ask as I lean over and stare at her. Her nipples are hard, her stomach taut, and the curve of her lips makes me want to shift slightly so I can feel them on my cock.

“What are you thinking?” she asks me.

I just shake my head. “I don’t think you want to know.”

“Tell me.” Her eyes twinkle.

“I was just thinking that your perfectly parted lips would feel so good right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” She teases. “And where would they feel good?”

“I think you know.”

She leans over and kisses my cheek. “Here?”

“No.”

She kisses my earlobe. “Here?”

“No.”

She kisses my shoulder. “Here?”

“No.”

Then she kisses my pec.

“No.”

Her lips move down to my abs, and she licks toward my belly button.

I growl as she continues going lower, and then she stops. Her eyes look up at me—big, brown, innocent.

“I guess I just can’t find the place.” She starts laughing, and I just shake my head and pull her up toward me.

I hold her in my arms, loving the way she fits. “You feel like home,” I say.

“What does that mean?” she asks.

“I don’t know exactly.” I stroke the top of her head. “I guess it means that you feel like the right place to be.”

“Does that mean that you think you want to stay in Coconut Beach?”

I stare at her, guilt eating me alive. She’s so kind. So optimistic. She trusts me with her whole heart. And I’ve been hiding my identity this entire time. I don’t know how I’m going to tell her the truth. How am I supposed to break it to her?

I don’t want to.

I wish I could go back to the past. I wish I could tell her that if I were to do it all again, I wouldn’t.

But I don’t even know if that’s true. Would I not have come to Coconut Beach?

If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t know her. And to not know her would be a travesty.

I can’t imagine my life without her. To not know her would destroy me.

But yet, maybe I will destroy her. Maybe I’ll wreck her. Maybe I’ll break her heart so badly that she will never believe in love again. And as much as I never want to think about her with someone else, I don’t want her to be single forever.

I want her to be mine. But I don’t know if she would forgive me. If she could forgive me. And if she does, would I ever forgive myself?

“You’re too good for someone like me,” I mutter aloud without meaning to.

She frowns suddenly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re great. And what we have is amazing.”

“So, what, are you telling me that you don’t want to see me again?” Her lower lip trembles, and I can see panic in her eyes.

“No, I-I just—” My words stutter. I don’t know what to say. “I just didn’t want there to be any strings here. Or complications.”

My heart breaks as I utter the words.

“I have to go back to the city soon, and I was just here for a temporary vacation. I know you live here, and I don’t. And it’s just… complicated, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. I suppose.” She offers me a small smile, but I can tell that she’s sad.

“What is it, Ava? You can talk to me.”

“I could try New York,” she says suddenly.

“Wait, what?” I blink at her rapidly.

“I mean, I love Coconut Beach, and it’s my life. But maybe this is a sign.”

“What do you mean?” I ask her.

“I mean, the bookstore’s not doing well.

I’m struggling to stay afloat. I don’t want my grandma to lose her investment or end up with bad credit because of me.

And… well, I like you. I’m not saying that this means we’re in any sort of long-term relationship or anything.

I wouldn’t want you to think I’m trying to rush anything.

But I think we’d both like to see where it goes. Right?”

She sounds timid, but I nod. “I’d love to see where this goes. You would come to New York for me?”

“I mean, if you really wanted me to.”

“But what about the bookstore?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Would you sell it? To the corporation that was trying to buy it?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs again. “It’s not really something I want to do, but I don’t know that I have many choices.

I know I’m not the only business not doing well, and I feel like if I sell or have to change ownership, other buildings will sell, and I guess that will give the corporation what it wants, and it will build a hotel.

But I don’t know what I can do to stop it. ”

“I don’t understand,” I say. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if businesses see that I am selling, they’ll know it’s because I don’t see any way to bring more business in.

And if I don’t see any way, then how are they going to see a—” She shrugs.

“Don’t tell anyone this, but I feel like other businesses look to me. So if I sell, the rest will follow.”

“Oh,” I say, as if I didn’t already know this information. My heart feels cold.

I should feel happy. I should feel excited. I should push her over the precipice and encourage her to sell. It would solve everything. And maybe she wouldn’t even have to know it was me who bought it. Maybe I wouldn’t even have anything to do with it.

As soon as those thoughts cross my brain, I know I can’t move forward like that. I can’t move forward with her not knowing my role.

“Have you thought about speaking to the other businesses?” I say, and I’m not sure why.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if they’re struggling and you’re struggling, maybe you all need to come together to figure out some plans to make money as a whole as opposed to individual businesses.”

She stares at me for a couple of moments and then nods slowly. “You’re right. Of course. I don’t know why I didn’t think about that.”