Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  “I know. I should probably buy a lottery ticket today,” I muttered.

  “You realize what you’ve done, don’t you?”

  “Screwed up big time?”

  “No, you catfished your boyfriend.” She laughed. “Holy shit, G, he catfished you too.”

  “This is so messed up,” I groaned.

  “You’re like two fucking catfish, sitting at the bottom of the lake, doing fish shit and stuff.”

  “Okay, enough with the fish,” I snapped. “I’m freaking out here, Cass. What have I done?”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong,” she placated me.

  “Oh. M-my. God,” I stuttered, panicked and overwhelmed over the entire fucked up situation. “How do I fix this?”

  “Jesus, Georgia, relax,” she sighed. “Stay calm. Act completely aloof. I’ll send him another message and nip this crazy-town shit in the bud.”

  “What? What are you going to say?”

  “For fuck’s sake, stop panicking,” she chastised. “I’ll say something along the lines of ‘I’m happily involved with someone else and I can’t continue our conversations. Have a nice life.’”

  Okay, that would work. It would put an end to the confusion. Rose would message Ruck, they’d stop chatting, and the world would be right again.

  Would it work? And is this even the right way to handle this mindfuck of a situation?

  I warred with myself over pretending it never happened versus telling Kline the truth. But then I started remembering the many conversations I’d had with Ruck. My openness. My flirtation. Questions and commentary about anal.

  Jesus. I cringed in embarrassment. The mere idea of talking to Kline about it had my stomach clenching in discomfort.

  I just wanted to leave the whole Ruck and Rose debacle in the past. Truth be told, if I could’ve paid someone to bury it in a shallow grave somewhere in the depths of the Pinelands along with my stay at Masturbation Camp, I sure as fuck would’ve done it. Not that I knew anything about that sort of thing.

  I sighed. “Could this be any weirder of a situation?”

  “Well,” she said, deadpan. “Considering he had foreskin, Wally sure put a weird spin on the old phrase ‘Taking ol’ one-eye to the optometrist.’”

  “Old phrase?” I snorted. “I didn’t even know that was a phrase.”

  “Savannah would be so ashamed of you right now,” she teased.

  That spurred a few giggles from my lips.

  “Hey, I hate to do this, but I gotta scoot or I’m going to be late for my shoot,” she updated. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks, Cass. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Probably live a horribly miserable life trying to find your own way out of your crazy-ass situations.”

  “So true,” I agreed, smiling.

  After we hung up, I was so damn exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions that I stayed in the bathtub until I drifted off to sleep.

  A throat being cleared startled me awake.

  “Fully clothed, bathtub nap?” Kline asked, squatting down beside the tub.

  “Would you like to join me?” I grinned and scooted over.

  He didn’t hesitate, squishing his large frame beside me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

  “Fix my dad’s car?” I asked, resting my head on his chest.

  “Yeah. Pretty sure your dad thinks I’m a mechanic now, but honestly, it was an easy fix.” His fingers found their way into my hair, running through the strands so softly I nearly purred.

  “I think my dad is falling in love with you. He might propose marriage before we leave.”

  “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let your dad steal me from you.”

  I laughed. “I’m not sure we’re going to be able to fit that giant head of yours out of this house.”

  He wrapped both arms tightly around my body and slid farther into the middle of the tub, forcing me to lie on top of him. “There, that’s much better.”

  “You’re too damn big.” I nodded toward his feet that were hanging over the edge.

  “I thought we already figured this out, Benny. I might be Big-dicked Brooks, but your perfect, tight—”

  I clamped my hand over his mouth, laughing.

  He licked my palm, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Gross,” I scoffed, feigning disgust and wiping his spit on his own shirt.

  He chuckled a few times and then his eyes turned soft and he brushed a few strands of hair out of my face. “I’m glad you brought me this weekend. I had fun meeting your parents.”

  I rubbed my nose against his. “Thanks for coming with me and being such a good sport. My mom and dad can be a little overwhelming.”

  “Your dad is a riot.”

  “He really likes you.” I grinned. “That’s huge, by the way. Dick doesn’t like anyone.”

  “After you left the garage, your dad and I had an interesting conversation.”

  “What was it about?”

  “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out or get embarrassed.”

  “I’m not sure I like where this is headed.” My nose scrunched up in skepticism.

  His index finger tapped my nose. “Just promise.”

  “Fine. I promise.”

  “Your dad asked me for a few tips.”

  “Car tips?”

  Kline shook his head.

  “I don’t get it. What kind of tips?”

  His eyes creased with amusement.

  My jaw dropped to his chest. “Oh God,” I whined. “Please tell me what I’m thinking you’re about to say is not what happened.”

  “Apparently, your mother encouraged him to talk to me about sex, particularly two-minute orgasms. I’ll be honest, I have no idea why your mom thought I knew anything about that.”

  I shut my eyes and buried my face in his chest. “She heard us last night.”

  “What?”

  “Well, she heard me last night.”

  “Oh, shit,” he said before quiet laughter started vibrating his body.

  I rested my chin on his chest, glaring at him. “Thanks a lot, asshole. You and your Jedi sex tricks had me screaming like a lunatic while my parents were two doors down.”

  “You didn’t seem to be complaining about my Jedi sex tricks last night,” he teased, grinding his hips against mine.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I warned, poking him in the belly. “You will not get all frisky with me in this bathtub.”

  He waggled his brows. “What about in the bed?”

  “No,” I retorted. “I refuse to go into an orgasm coma again.”

  He tilted his head, an endearing smirk highlighting his lips.

  “Well, not ever, just not here.” I quickly backtracked because, yeah, no way in hell would I deny myself that kind of orgasm forever. I wasn’t a crazy person.

  He laughed, kissing my nose. “Whatever you say, Benny girl.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Kline

  As the plane throttled forward and took off down the runway, Georgia screamed like we were on a roller coaster, shrieking at every bump, lump, and wind gust.

  “Jesus,” I shouted over her squeals and rubbed at the meat of her thigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d never flown before!”

  We’d both been surprised by the trip, a last-minute meeting with a vendor that wanted to go live on our site ASAP. It didn’t happen often, but when people jumped up and down and waved money around, we jumped back. This was one of those times and the reason we found ourselves San Diego bound this early in the day on the Tuesday after a weekend with her parents.

  “It’s different on a private plane,” she yelled back, even though there wasn’t a need. I’d only had to yell before to be heard over her screeching, but she wasn’t concerned. And she didn’t seem tired either. I, myself, was exhausted from a weekend filled with Savannah and Dick. And Georgia and my dick. Truly, the D was every
where.

  Gemma, my regular personal flight attendant, smiled happily from her jump seat. Thankfully, she seemed rather amused by it all.

  “Baby, it’s the same as a normal plane,” I argued at a conventional volume. “Just smaller.”

  “No. Nuh-uh,” she disagreed. “This is not like regular planes. Regular planes make you feel like a poor, desperate vagabond, willing to subject yourself to any treatment just to make it to your destination.”

  “What airline are you flying?” I laughed. “Third World Air?”

  She shook her head and smiled before looking out the window again. “It’s more whoopty or something,” she tried to explain.

  “Whoopty?”

  “Whimsical. Roller-coaster-y.”

  I smiled and she laughed, throwing her hands up and pointing to her face in confirmation. “Fun!”

  I leaned over and kissed the apple of her cheek. “I’m the fun part.”

  “You are,” she agreed with my lie.

  She was the fun. Hands down.

  “You mind if I take a little nap?” I asked, knowing I’d need my business brain later instead of the current mush.

  “Aw, Kline. My old man is tired, huh?”

  I had to laugh as I nodded. “He is.”

  Her body seemed to deflate all at once as she laid her head on my shoulder. “I am too. I feel like I haven’t slept in ages.”

  “We haven’t,” I pointed out. Weeks of courting and falling and fucking had taken its toll. “Just snuggle into me, baby. We’ll both catch some shut-eye. We’ve got about five hours until we get there.”

  She didn’t say anything out loud, just nuzzled the top of her head farther into my neck and crossed an arm over my body.

  I breathed in the smell of her shampoo and rubbed the soft strands of her hair with my fingers. I wanted to stay awake and savor it, talk to her, laugh with her, soak more of her in. But the lull of the plane and the hum of the engine enhanced a pull into sleep that already needed no help.

  With my eyes shut and heart full, I was mere moments away from a deep sleep when Georgia called my name.

  “Yeah, baby?” I asked, my voice thick and sluggish with the impending doze.

  “I’ve never been happier to miss sleep in my life.”

  Ditto.

  * * *

  “Just one room,” I told the front desk clerk as she handed me our cards. My assistant, Pam, had, of course, made the arrangements, and she’d have had no way of knowing Georgia and I were following a one-room sleeping plan.

  Personally, I didn’t have even one fuck left to give. But Georgie cared. And I cared about what she cared about. It was a really mushy, complicated web of romance, but in the end, all that mattered was her.

  “Yes, sir,” the young girl agreed, taking the keys back and tapping away at the computer.

  We’d gone straight from the airport to the meeting, and from the meeting to dinner. Thanks to one of the best plane catnaps I’d ever had, we had just enough time to spend another night not sleeping before Georgia had to be on a plane back home in the morning.

  “Here you go,” the desk clerk offered, handing me back a solitary key. “Room 554. The elevators are down the hall behind you and on the right.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled and grabbed my small bag from its spot at my feet.

  Georgia was already down the elevator hall, pacing the tile floor in front of them as she talked over the details of things she needed for tomorrow’s meeting with Dean. As imperative as the phone call seemed on the surface, I had a suspicion it was more of an excuse to avoid awkwardly standing next to me at the desk than a necessity.

  “Ready?” I asked as I came to a stop in front of her.

  Her finger shot to my lips and pushed to say ‘be quiet’.

  “It was just Mr. Brooks,” she said into the phone, rolling her eyes. “No, I’m still in the lobby.”

  I went to speak, but she pushed on my lips harder. “Nope. The meeting ran really late and we still have a couple of things to go over before we call it a night.”

  I smiled. No one here was going to be calling it a night.

  She shook her head in the negative and bit her bottom lip. My balls tightened immediately. Even they knew it was time to play.

  “Georgie girl,” I whispered mischievously. She shushed me and waved me away, pointing at the phone with wild eyes. She was just too easy.

  “Come tuck me in,” I teased, grabbing at her hips and backing her toward the elevators.

  I pushed the up button to call the car and pulled her hips into mine. Hair loose from its earlier binding, she looked wild and willing and altogether too much like sex to stop.

  “Dean, Dean,” she called, obviously trying to break into his end of steady conversation. “You know, you’ve got this covered.”

  I smiled bigger. Pulled her breasts tighter to my chest.

  “It was really just my neuroses calling. You’re plenty competent to have everything ready on your own.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I hummed, moving the hair off of her neck and sucking at her skin greedily.

  She was dying to give me one of her signature, scolding Kline!s, I could feel it in her posture and staccato-timed wording, but with Dean on the line, secrecy won out.

  “I know. I’ll be sure to give Donatella Versace my recommendation, should I ever run into her on the street.” She nodded at the phone, at something Dean said, a gesture he obviously couldn’t see, and I swooned.

  Hands down, Georgia Cummings was one of the most charmingly fascinating women I’d ever encountered. Dichotomous in nearly everything she did, I never knew which way was up or which version of her I would get. Awkward or easy, bold or shy, endlessly clever or laughably bumbling. Every time, day or night—work or play—I’d take any version I met.

  “Hang up the phone, baby,” I coaxed, pushing her gently into the open and waiting car.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said into the line. “Yes, butt-fucking early.” We both smiled like lunatics. “I’ll see you then.”

  Finally, blessedly, she cut the call just as the doors of the elevator shut out the people.

  I grabbed her hips, groping and squeezing at the top of her ass.

  “God. It’s about time,” I teased, running my tongue along the closed seam of her lips.

  “Fuck,” she breathed as her head fell back and her hair hung well past her shoulders. I gripped the ends of it and yanked her throat open even farther.

  “Ahh,” she moaned, shoving her tit right into the palm of my waiting free hand.

  “That’s it,” I cooed, circling her hard nipple with the tip of my thumb.

  “Kline,” she breathed. She could barely keep up with the rhythm of her pants.

  “I can’t wait to hear you say that again. On my face, on my cock…I’m gonna strip you down and sit you up on every fucking thing I can think of.”

  “God,” she moaned as the doors opened on our floor. I scooped her up and into my arms, glancing at the sign that would tell me which way to go to our room.

  Too fucking far from the elevator, at the end of the hall, I finally came face to face with our door. Georgia clung to me as I set her down to pull the plastic key card from my pocket. I couldn’t wait to make love to every single inch of her petite body.

  As the door clicked open and I slid our intertwined bodies inside, I knew without a doubt that was what this was.

  Just lust was gone, like had grown, and love was positioned in Georgia’s sumptuous mouth—right at the tip of my tongue.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Georgia

  “Just three more questions,” Kline demanded, his voice raspy and sleep-filled.

  We’d been at this game all night. Asking random questions to one another in between bouts of kissing that always ended in more. Crazy, sexy kind of more.

  Best game ever.

  But it was half past three in the morning, and I had a six thirty-five flight to catch. A contract meeting was sending me
home today, and because he’d tacked on an additional meeting tomorrow morning with one of our regular investors in the name of efficiency, today meant one day earlier than Kline. No need to make more than one trip, he’d said. Now we had to face the consequences of that decision.

  I hadn’t packed a thing and needed a shower. As badly as I wanted to stay in bed, wrapped up in him, I had to get my ass moving.

  I sat up, the sheet pooling around my waist. “You said that three hours and two orgasms ago.”

  “Two orgasms? I thought it was three…” He was lying on his belly, resting his chin on the pillow, his eyes locked on my bared breasts. “If you can’t remember the last one, I’m demanding a re-do.”

  A re-do. The bastard.

  He licked his lips and moved his gaze from my breasts, to my waist, until finally making the slow circuit to my mouth.

  Jesus. Kline flashing me smoldering glances during business meetings was dangerous enough, but this? That look. Those heated blue eyes. His sexy, bedhead hair. And that tight ass. It should be illegal.

  “Stop smoldering at me!” I smacked his shoulder. “I have to get in the shower. I have a flight to catch, remember?”

  He pounced on me, wrapped his arms around my body, and slammed my back into the bed before I could stop him. “Don’t leave.” His mouth found mine, his teeth tugging on my bottom lip.

  “Stay here with me. Let me ask you questions and kiss these lips.” He kissed me deeper. “And touch this perfect body.” His fingers slid up my sides, resting below the curve of my breasts. “And put my mouth on you.” He punctuated that statement by gliding those devious hands down my belly, until his fingers were touching me where I throbbed.

  I’d never had marathon sex. Okay, before Kline, I’d never actually had sex. But I’d never experienced this feeling before. I’d never been so attracted, so turned on, so undeniably in love with someone, where the only thing I wanted to do was spend every day for the rest of forever touching him, kissing him, fucking him.

  It was overwhelming. And amazing. And should have had me running for the hills. But when it came to Kline, I didn’t want to run, unless it was toward his opened arms.