Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  “Cass,” I warned. “Don’t you dare hang up on me!”

  “I’m so tired, Georgie,” she whined. “Why won’t you let me sleep?”

  “Because I need you to promise you’ll take over my TapNext account.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because you love me.”

  “Just unsubscribe from the damn thing,” she muttered.

  “I don’t want to be a complete asshole to Ruck. And I felt like you guys hit if off last night.”

  “You’re talking about Thatch, right?”

  “Yes, Thatch. Your face is the one on my profile anyway. And you can just take over and act like it was you the whole time.”

  “This is a little weird, G.”

  “I know, but I don’t really know what else to do.”

  She was right. It was bordering on insane to have her take over the conversations, but it felt like the best option. That way, Ruck wasn’t left in the dust, and hell, maybe Thatch and Cass would be an interesting little matchup.

  I’d just wait to mention all of the random jokes and personal shit I had divulged to Ruck at a later time. Like never. I had a feeling once he started chatting more with my crazy, beautiful, and smart best friend, she’d eventually just be Rose to him, without him knowing there was ever a difference.

  It had to work, right?

  She was still quiet and I wasn’t sure if she actually fell back asleep or was mulling over her options.

  “Cass?”

  “Yeah, okay,” she agreed. “Send me your login shit. I’ll message him.”

  “Really? Oh my God! You’re the best!” I squealed.

  “I’m not doing this for you, Wheorgie. When I said I’d Thatch that, I meant it. I have a feeling that man is a beast in bed.”

  “Seriously—” I started to say, but the line clicked in my ear.

  A word to the wise: never call Cassie before noon. I was lucky I’d managed to keep her on the phone as long as I had.

  I don’t know how long I stood out on Kline’s terrace, elbows resting on the banister, eyes staring off into the distance. I watched the clouds move in, covering the sun and filling the sky with an impending sense of doom. Lightning flashed in the distance.

  But the city, it still moved below me, still hustled and bustled and never quit showing off its boisterous personality.

  “I missed you in my bed.” Warm arms wrapped around my waist. The smell of his soap and clean laundry and Kline assaulted my senses.

  I sighed in contentment, resting my head on his shoulder.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “I had to call Cassie,” I admitted, omitting the details about the actual conversation. Even though I still felt guilty about the whole Ruck thing, I decided it was best to leave it in the past. No good would’ve come from me rehashing it with Kline. Because at the end of the day, he was who I wanted. The only man I wanted.

  “And now you’re just standing out here, watching the storm roll in?”

  “Something like that.”

  “God, you smell so good.” His nose was buried in my neck, inhaling for a brief moment, until he rested his chin on my shoulder.

  I turned in his arms, interlocking my hands high, around his strong neck.

  Playful blue eyes stared back at me. He swept my hair off my shoulder, moving his lips to my neck, and then my ear, cheek, before he leaned back, taking in my attire…or lack thereof. A rogue hand slipped down my side, gripping my thigh. “And you’re standing out here in nothing but my t-shirt. I think you need to come inside, baby.”

  My lips found his, placing sweet kisses against his smiling mouth. “Are you trying to have your wicked way with me?”

  He slid his fingers up my thigh and brushed across the one place I ached for him. “I’d say I’m not the only one trying in this scenario.” He bit my bottom lip, tugging on it until I moaned. His hands moved to my ass, lifting me up and urging my legs to wrap around his waist. Kline was hard beneath his boxer briefs, and the second he was firmly pressed against me, I whimpered against his mouth. And then, he was kissing me deeper, coaxing my lips open and tangling his tongue with mine.

  Candles melted when you lit them.

  I melted when Kline Brooks kissed me.

  Into. A. Puddle. Of. Pliant. Swoony. Mush.

  His mouth was my own personal brand of perfection. Every soft caress of his lips against mine only made me crave him more. I doubted I’d ever get tired of this. Him. Us.

  My breathing sped up, his touch sparking every tiny nerve ending inside of me. His hands, God, whenever they were touching me, I was losing my mind.

  I shuddered against him.

  He felt it, smiling as he kissed me.

  Thunder filled the air as the sky opened up and started to pour over the city. The wind caused drops of rain to slide into the terrace and onto us.

  He didn’t break our kiss, whispering against my mouth all of the dirty things he wanted to do to me as he did. My hair was wet and his t-shirt stuck to me like a second skin, but I barely noticed, too consumed by him. My hips moved of their own accord, desperate for the hardness he was so graciously offering against me.

  “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled. Yes, he actually growled. I always thought the growl was bullshit, a mythical unicorn put into romance novels, but the guttural noise that came from his lungs proved me wrong.

  He moved us back inside the apartment, kicking the door shut with his foot. We were walking across his bedroom one second and then tangled on his bed the next, our mouths never leaving one another.

  I giggled against his lips as my ass bounced on the mattress.

  Kline pulled back, staring down at me as he moved the wet strands of hair plastered to my cheeks.

  I shivered against him. I couldn’t help it. Having him this close, wrapped around me, completed me in some odd way. I’d never felt this before, for anyone. And it scared me to think I could have messed this up by never agreeing to that first date or meeting Ruck in person. I could have lived an entire life without getting to feel this.

  His eyes turned concerned. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “Nothing.” I swallowed down my emotion and distracted him with my lips. “I want you,” I whispered against his mouth.

  He grinned, purposefully taking in my soaked attire. “Is that why you’re doing your best impression of a wet t-shirt contest?”

  I bit my lip. “Am I being too obvious?”

  His large hands caressed my breasts through wet cotton, thumbs brushing across my nipples.

  “I’ve never been to a wet t-shirt contest, but is it normal to grope the contestants?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “This judge does.”

  “What else does this judge do?”

  He leaned forward, sucking my nipple into his mouth and licking around the sensitive peak. I felt the warmth of his tongue and the cool wetness from his t-shirt all the way down my body and between my legs.

  My fingers found his hair, gripping the strands tightly as he moved to my other breast.

  “I think I need to enter these contests more often,” I said, moaning.

  He glanced up, shaking his head. “No one else is ever going to lay eyes on this perfect fucking body.” He held my hips and pushed his pelvis against me, spurring another moan from my lips. “No one else will get to hear your sounds or watch your lips part when you’re losing control.” He nipped at my bottom lip and then trailed his mouth across my jaw to my neck, until his breath was hot and seductive by my ear. “But, if you promise to be in my bedroom, you can do it any goddamn time you want.”

  “Deal,” I whispered. “Now, less talking and more getting me naked and fucking me until I forget my name.”

  “Fucking you until you forget your name?” His eyes turned heated, mouth curving into a devilish grin. “I think I can work with this.”

  And believe me, he did. I had praised Mother Teresa, Jesus, Buddha, and w
as calling myself Oprah by the time he was finished blowing my mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kline

  “I’m sorry,” Georgia apologized for the twenty-ninth time as she knocked on the door to her parents’ suburban New Jersey home.

  “Baby, it’s fine. I want to meet them. Didn’t I tell you I wanted to meet them?”

  “Yes, you did. But I don’t think you meant this afternoon.”

  I had to laugh at that. It was true, when I’d had Georgia wrapped around me in bed this morning, I hadn’t envisioned meeting her parents only five hours later. But when her mom had called on FaceTime that morning and Georgia had run away to take the call in private, I hadn’t been able to resist popping in for a hello.

  “It’s my own fault. You told me not to show my face on the call,” I reminded her.

  “I know. It is your fault. Maybe I’m mad at you.”

  “You’re not,” I disagreed.

  “Okay,” she conceded. “I’m not. Honestly, I’m just sorry that when Savannah makes demands, I can’t turn her down.”

  “The power of a mother’s guilt trip is compelling. Trust me, I’m familiar. I’d love to bottle it and use it at the office,” I consoled just as the door swung open to a man with slightly wild hair that grayed around the edges.

  “Georgie!” he called, engulfing her in a hug and pulling her through the door. He nuzzled her hair and breathed her in for a good five seconds before his eyes met mine and turned hard.

  “Who’s this clown?”

  “Dad!” Georgia chastised, her cheeks going cherry with mortification.

  I couldn’t help but smile. In his most laid-back tone, her dad had thrown the ultimate insult my way. No warm-up or pretense or gestures of fond small talk. This was a man who cared about one thing in this scenario—his daughter. I liked him immediately.

  “Kline Brooks,” I introduced myself, offering my hand.

  “Dick. Dick Cummings.” He shook my hand with fervor, purposely trying his damnedest to crush my fingers.

  Dick Cummings? Thank God Thatch wasn’t here. He would have had a field day with that one.

  “His full name is Richard,” Georgia’s mother interrupted, forcing her way into the open doorway. “I’m Savannah, by the way. It really is a pleasure, Kline.”

  “Stop with the formality shit, Savannah. If the man can’t handle that I’m Dick Cummings, then he’s not the right man for our Georgie,” he retorted, eyeing me with slanty eyes. “Does it bother you, Kline?”

  “No, sir,” I answered, fighting the urge to laugh. I literally hadn’t even set foot inside of the door to their house yet, and a full-length daytime drama was rounding its way into the second arc of the storyline.

  “Son.” He patted me on the shoulder, nudging the girls out of the way and pulling me inside.

  “When you’ve got a last name like Cummings, you can either be a chickenshit, or you can grow some balls and roll with it. That’s why I go by Dick and I had my son go by Willy for most of his life. Hell, Georgia’s lucky we didn’t name her vagina,” he said through a laugh. “Plus, it’s pretty fucking enjoyable to watch someone squirm when they meet me.” He grinned, big and wide, his eyes turning jovial. “You handled yourself well. Much better than the other idiots Georgie’s brought home. I like you already.”

  “Jesus, Dad.” Georgie sighed. “Think you can tone done the F-bombs for now? It’s not even five p.m.”

  “No siree, Bob. You’re in my home and I’ll do anything I damn well please. If I want to walk around in my underwear all night, I’ll fucking do it,” he responded, unfazed. “Anyway, like you should talk. Last phone conversation I had with you, you were ranting about ‘the fucking subway.’”

  “And five o’clock is an antiquated schedule associated with alcohol, Georgia. The fucks have always been given free rein,” Savannah put in.

  Georgia’s parents were a trip. I was having a hard time keeping my smile in check.

  “Come here and give me another hug,” her dad ordered. “I’ve missed you, baby girl.”

  She flashed a pointed look. “Only if you promise not to bust my boyfriend’s balls all night.”

  “Deal.” He grinned.

  She hugged her dad, a genuine smile on her face, and then moved to her mom. Hugs and smiles overflowed the small space of the foyer. It was apparent she was close with her folks. I loved we had that in common.

  “And Richard.” Savannah tsked. “You know the no-pants rule doesn’t start until after dinner.”

  He growled under his breath, wrapping his arm around his wife and whispering something I could only assume was full-on dirty into her ear.

  “Later.” Savannah giggled, a perfect incarnation of what I knew as her daughter’s laugh, and slapped him on the chest.

  He chuckled, waggling his brows at her, visibly amused with himself.

  “Why don’t you two make yourselves comfortable and freshen up from the drive. There’s fresh sheets on Georgia’s bed and clean towels in the bathroom.”

  Dick abruptly turned for the hallway, striding toward the kitchen, muttering something about “the fucking grill.”

  Her mother still remained, smiling at both of us in a way that made me a little concerned about what would come next. “There’s also a box of condoms on the nightstand,” she whispered. “Feel free to put them to good use.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mom.” Georgia sighed, tipping her red face to the ceiling in an effort not to meet my eyes.

  “Anytime, baby girl.” Savannah patted her cheek, smiling. “I’m just thrilled you’re finally being adventurous with your sexuality.”

  This meet the parents visit was getting more interesting by the minute.

  “Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes,” she called over her shoulder, following her husband’s lead.

  The second they were out of eyesight, Georgia sagged against the door.

  “I told you they were a little offbeat. Please don’t hold it against me.”

  I grinned, pulling her into my arms, and avoided the urge to tell her that her definition of a little felt more like a lot. “I love everything about your parents.”

  Her eyes showed she was skeptical, but I spoke only the truth. I’d take a free spirit and a ballbuster over two sticks in the mud any day.

  “They’re your parents, baby. Believe me, I like them. Dick and Savannah are great.”

  “Yeah, they’re real awesome. I mean, how great is it that my mother thought to put condoms in my bedroom, you know, just in case we decide to bang it out when they’re two doors down.”

  “Very practical.” I fought my smile, rubbing her shoulders to ease the tension in her muscles.

  “Come on.” She took my hand. “Let me show you my childhood bedroom. Who knows? Maybe my mother left a complimentary bottle of lube on the nightstand.”

  I stopped her before she could head up the stairs, pulling her tight against me, her back to my chest. “Like you’d even need lube when I’ve got my hands on you,” I growled into her ear, then kissed along her neck.

  “Okay.” She let out a soft sigh, head falling to my shoulder. “Maybe we can follow the no-pants rule after dinner too.”

  “Wouldn’t want to go against house rules,” I added, smirking against her soft skin.

  “We are guests,” she said, lifting her chin and urging my lips to continue down her neck.

  “Definitely wouldn’t want to come across as rude.” I nibbled along her neck a bit more, until I pinched her ass, earning an adorable squeal. “Show me your bedroom, baby.”

  The stairs creaked as we climbed, and pictures of Georgia and Will lined the wall. One of a toddler Georgia stood out in particular.

  “Aw, look at your cute little—”

  “Don’t even say it!”

  “What?” I asked innocently.

  “I know you! I know where you were going, and we’re not going to talk about the fact that my mother keeps a naked picture of me on the wall.” />
  “I was just going to point out that your tushy then was nearly as cute as it is now.”

  “Kline!” she snapped with a finger in my face.

  I threw her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold and slapped at said ass.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll pay special attention to it tonight. Especially if there’s lube.”

  She shrieked and kicked as I ran up the rest and paused, throwing her to the hallway carpet at the top of the stairs and tickling her sensitive sides.

  “Kline! Stop!” Her breath heaved. “Stooooop!”

  When I removed my hands, she scurried up and out from underneath me, slapping at my shoulder lightly.

  “What is it about being in a childhood home that makes a man act like a child?”

  “Fun. Freedom.” I smiled. “Memories.”

  “I just bet. Were you a bad boy in your youth, Kline?”

  “Nope,” I answered honestly. “As a boy, I didn’t know enough to be bad.” I waggled my eyebrows. “I’m much more convincing now that I’m a man.”

  She ran again at that, shrieking the whole way and trying to close her bedroom door between us. I played tug of war with the handle convincingly enough, reserving my full strength in an effort not to hurt her, before finally busting through and tackling her cackling form to the bed.

  She turned her head to the left and sighed. “Ah. The condoms.”

  I pulled her eyes to mine and touched our lips together softly before rubbing my nose along the line of hers. “We didn’t use one the night that we fought,” I whispered. I hadn’t even thought about it until now, too consumed by lies and love and the complicated mix of the two, but the box on the nightstand brought my oversight into stark relief.

  She nodded.

  “I’m okay with that in all the ways I can be. Are you?”

  She nodded again, and a shiver ran through her body. I pulled her closer.

  “I’m on the pill, and I trust you.”

  “I’ll do every single thing I can to deserve that, baby,” I promised.

  She looked back over to the nightstand.

  “I feel like we have to use a condom tonight because my mom put them there.”