Promise Me Nothing (Hermosa Beach Book 1)

by Jillian Liota

  I break into a fit of laughter and Eleanor tumbles behind me, the two of us unable to control ourselves.

  Eventually, she wanders off to chat with Paige and Rebecka, and Wyatt makes his way back over to me. He lathers me in another layer of sunscreen, flirtatiously letting his fingers stroke under the straps of my suit.

  “I told you this bathing suit looks amazing on you,” he says into my ear as he finishes lotioning under the strap at the base of my neck. “I’m glad you kept it.”

  I spin in his hold, coming face-to-face with him, and allowing the alcohol in my system to make me brave.

  “If you play your cards right, you just might be able to see me out of it, too.”

  His lips part and his eyes fall to my mouth. Before he can say anything, I give him a wink and then head over to the huge blanket Ji-Eun laid out, stretching out next to the girls.

  When I look up at Wyatt, he’s biting his lip, but then he looks away, out to the ocean.

  A small part of me wonders if I might have been a bit too forward. But I shove that aside. It’s okay for me to flirt with him, tell him what’s on my mind. And if it doesn’t work for him, well… that’s not something I can control.

  Eventually, the sun dips lower in the sky and people start packing up.

  “I don’t want today to end,” I say as we lug our items back to the bikes.

  “It’s not ending yet.” I perk up at Wyatt’s words. “Well, the friend portion of the day is ending. But the date part is just starting.”

  Then he winks, and something exciting surges through my veins knowing that I’m going to get more time with Wyatt tonight.

  It really is amazing how quickly you can fall for someone. In just a short period of time, he’s started to slip under my skin, down to the root of me, and he’s dug a little hole for himself that feels empty when he’s not around.

  I hurriedly say goodbye to everyone, then ride off with Wyatt back to the house.

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask, unloading everything on the patio.

  “Tonight are the Memorial Day fireworks,” he says, his voice straining slightly as he lifts the cooler and sets it just inside the doorway to the patio. Then he looks at me. “I thought it would be fun to spend some time in the Jacuzzi. Then watch them on the roof.”

  My mouth dries up at the idea, and I nod, maybe a little too excited. Shit. The last thing I need is to make a fool of myself. Especially if I want to have sex with Wyatt tonight.

  Which I do.

  I think.

  Yeah. Yes. Definitely.

  We stop off in the kitchen and munch on some fruit and a veggie tray, then grab towels and head up to the roof.

  I’m actually surprised that I haven’t been up there before now. We head out my bedroom to the small balcony, then climb the spiral staircase to the top, stepping off on a landing that takes up a small space on the roof of Lucas’ house.

  And my mouth opens in surprise.

  I glance at Wyatt, who has a small but slightly unsure grin on his face.

  The rooftop has a large Jacuzzi built into it, as well as a small space for a table and a few chairs. But it isn’t the furniture that has me so shocked.

  Covering the table is a white table cloth, with a box of donuts and some hot chocolate. A handful of flickering candles are scattered strategically on the table and the edge of the Jacuzzi.

  “They’re LED candles,” Wyatt says, as if that’s what’s on my mind. “With the breeze at the beach, real candles would have been impossible. And I wasn’t trying to light Lucas’ house on fire.”

  I smile at him, step over to where he stands a few feet away from me, and press a kiss to his jaw. Then I raise up on my tiptoes and kiss him on the lips.

  “This is so sweet,” I say. “And so thoughtful. When did you do this?”

  “I may have had Thalia set it up while we were gone.”

  I grin. I met Lucas’ maid, Thalia, last week and I think she’s amazing. Not only does she keep Lucas’ house completely spotless, which soothes the clean freak in my soul, but she also has the best attention to detail. She does Lucas’ grocery shopping, and without even asking, she started stocking up on extra Earl Grey tea and veggie trays because she saw my grocery list on the fridge.

  It is kind of weird having someone clean up after me, though, so I’m careful not to leave anything too messy.

  Wyatt climbs into the Jacuzzi, then takes my hand and helps me over the edge. When I first heard Lucas say he had a hot tub, it seemed a little strange in the warm beach weather. But now, as the temperature cools with the setting sun, the warm water and quiet privacy of a rooftop is the thing dreams are made of.

  “Did you enjoy the day?” he asks, taking a sip from his glass of scotch before setting it on the ledge.

  I nod, settling in to the corner seat and enjoying the feel of the pulsing jet against my back. “It was really fun.”

  “Good. I’m glad.”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I look up into the sky. “It seems like you should be able to see stars here. But it isn’t that much better than Phoenix,” I say, only spotting a few that burn the brightest and are visible over the glare from the city. “Have you ever seen that app on your phone? You hold it up and it shows you where the constellations are?”

  He shakes his head. “No, but we should head up into the mountains soon. The stargazing up there really is phenomenal. And in August, there’s a pretty amazing meteor shower that happens every year.”

  “That sounds so fun. Maybe we could do a camping trip? Like with the whole group?”

  Wyatt grins at me. “You know, when you first got here, there’s no way you would have thought about our big group doing a trip together. You would have assumed you didn’t belong or that they wouldn’t want you to come.”

  I blush, feeling a little embarrassed at how obvious I am with my fears.

  “Hey, I’m just glad you’re starting to feel like you fit, you know? That we want you here. Because we do.” He pauses. “I do.” His hand slides into mine, our fingers twisting together. “I’m glad you’re here, Hannah.”

  The feeling I get when he says that is a rush into my body. A surge of emotion that starts at my heart and pumps into my fingers and toes, my soul feeling filled and happy in a way it never has before.

  Maybe I was wrong when I first got here a month ago. Maybe I assumed I wouldn’t belong here, that I wouldn’t fit, because I believed the people here wouldn’t accept me. But Wyatt is proving that theory wrong.

  So is Paige. And Lucas. And Eleanor and Otto and the host of the lovely people I’ve met and spent time with since moving here.

  Wyatt moves forward, his face hovering near mine, and I watch his eyes as they peruse my face. Take in my skin and my stringy damp hair and my lips.

  Oh, the way he focuses on my lips.

  When he moves the slightest bit more, his mouth meets mine. And I can’t even play coy. I can’t pretend that having his tongue slipping between my lips, pulsing and twisting with mine, isn’t everything I want and need right now. That having him pull me closer in the heated water so that I’m straddling him where he sits isn’t the picture of what I hoped would happen tonight.

  So when it does, when he pulls me into his body and wraps his arms around me, our skin slick as we press together, I throw myself into it, refusing to care how he feels about my enthusiasm.

  He grips my thighs as we kiss, just that bit of pressure bringing my focus away from where his lips meet mine, dropping it lower, to the place where I ache.

  His fingers slide up and down my legs in a teasing caress that sends a fire racing through my veins. I shift forward, wanting no space between us, and when I feel the hardest part of him pressed against my center, I shift slightly, lining up with him and rotating my hips, the pressure of him feeling so good that I can’t help but pant out his name.

  “Wyatt,” I whisper. “You’re so hard.”

  He groans, his strong hands spanning my wais
t, gripping my hips and grinding me against where he waits, hard and ready and throbbing.

  “It’s because I can’t get enough of you,” he says back, looking at my eyes as he rocks me against him. “Shit, Hannah. Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”

  His head falls back slightly as I continue to grind against him, his eyes slipping to half mast. I lean forward and latch my mouth to his neck, giving him a soft suck, loving the taste of the salt and sweat on his skin.

  I nip at him, give him a gentle bite as he begins to trace the soft patch of skin just above my bikini bottoms, and it takes everything inside of me not to just yank them off or beg him to do it. The scrap of material feels like nothing, and yet it’s in the way of what I want.

  And that’s for Wyatt to slip his fingers inside of me again, to give me that pleasure that I’ve never been able to fully achieve on my own.

  But instead, I slip my hands against his wet skin, stroking over the firm muscle, lightly brushing over his pecs and nipples, through the valleys of his abdomen until I reach his board shorts. When I slip my fingers just barely under the material, one of his hands grabs mine.

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he tells me, and something inside of my chest cracks open, spills out, fills the space around us.

  “I know,” I say back, wiggling my fingers until he lets go, and then I begin to untie his shorts. “I want to see you.” I lean forward and put my mouth against his neck again, that sweet spot that had him groaning is calling to me. I suck gently. “Let me touch you.”

  His moan is a grumble that I can feel in the vibrations of his throat, and he helps me pull down his shorts, freeing his cock beneath the water.

  I can’t really see it underneath the jets and bubbles of the hot tub, but I reach out and take him in hand, getting another sound from Wyatt’s lips, this one a choked noise that I can’t help but kiss off his mouth.

  And then I start to pump him between my fist, not squeezing hard but just stroking him, up and down, his skin soft but hard at the same time.

  So fucking hard.

  Wyatt reaches out and unties my bikini top, his eyes watching mine. And I love that I can see him paying attention to my reaction. Making sure I’m okay with his every move. It takes me back to that feeling I knew I felt before.

  Safe. Warm. Cared for.

  And when the triangles fall away, he brings his hands up, cupping my breasts, his thumbs tracing my nipples in a way that streaks pleasure through my body, the muscles between my legs throbbing with need.

  It’s almost frustrating, this delicate trace he’s doing. Around and around, then a stroke across the tip. I grit my teeth, both loving and hating what he’s doing. Loving because it feels so good and hating because it’s not fucking enough. I want him to pinch and pull and…

  God, when he does. When his hands finally begin to grab and tease and he dips down, sucking one into his…

  My head falls back, loving the pulsing pleasure of his lips on my skin, his tongue stroking that point that seems to still need so much more.

  “I’m close,” he says, bringing me out of my own haze. I look back at him and see his eyes are glazed, that his neck is flushed, and goose bumps pebble his shoulders. He breathes out a puff of air as I squeeze him just a bit tighter. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

  I let go of him, my sudden desire to see him overwhelming my mind. His eyes widen as I pull back, his expression uncertain as I pull him up so he’s standing, then nudge him so he leans back on the edge of the hot tub.

  My eyes look away from his, drop to the hard shaft that looks like it’s throbbing between his legs. I reach out and take it in my hand, stroking him up and down.

  “Hannah, what are you…”

  But before he can finish, I press my face forward and wrap my mouth around him.

  “Fuck,” he cries out, and I know a neighbor had to have heard him. “Shit, Hannah.”

  His words spur me on as I explore, doing something I’d never really thought about before, my mouth and lips sucking and licking, my tongue tracing along the ridges of his dick.

  I feel a hand rest against the top of my head, fingers slipping between my locks of hair and pulling tight.

  “Just like that,” he says, his eyes locked on mine as I bob against him. “Use your hand, too.”

  I grip the part of him that I can’t fit in my mouth, squeeze and stroke, trying to keep a good rhythm. My only indicator of whether or not he’s enjoying it is the expression on his face, his mouth slightly open, his eyes closed, then open, then closed again, like it feels so good he can’t hold them open.

  I’m mesmerized as his head falls back, a deep groan emerging from between his lips that I hope to spend hours upon hours recreating for as long as possible.

  “I’m coming,” he pants out, and I pull back, continuing to stroke him as he pumps in spurts onto my chest.

  I can’t help but smile at his expression, somewhere between dazed and surprised and grateful. A beautiful mix of satisfaction that I was able to put on his face.

  When he finishes pulsing into my hand, he drops down into the water and pulls me into him, my bare chest against his, and wraps his arms around me, ignoring the stickiness between us. He presses his face into the crook of my neck, kissing and sucking on the skin, almost like it’s soothing to him to lap at my body.

  Eventually, he takes a deep breath and shudders, the last of his orgasm leaving his body in a final wave.

  I lean back slightly, loving the look on his face. The most blissed out expression I’ve ever seen from him, a man who normally has such tense features. Except, it seems, when he’s around me.

  “That was amazing,” he says, kissing me softly on the lips, and I preen under his praise.

  His hand drifts down between us, but I grip his fingers, shaking my head.

  “That was just for you,” I say. “I don’t believe in tit for tat with sex. We do things because we want to. Not because we think we should.”

  His brow furrows. “That’s not what I was doing, Hannah. Seeing you come on Saturday night?” He leans forward so our mouths are just a breath away from each other. “God, it was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And your pussy…”

  I giggle.

  Wyatt smirks. “What?”

  But I shake my head. “It’s just a funny word. Sorry.”

  He chuckles and tucks me in against him. “Your vagina? Should I call it your vagina and be super anatomically correct?”

  I continue to laugh in his arms. “No. I just… wasn’t expecting you to talk about going down on me.”

  “Going down on your love rug?”

  “Ewwwww, no! No, no, absolutely not. I’ll take pussy over love rug. Who says that?”

  Wyatt lifts a shoulder. “I saw it on a YouTube video when I was in high school. Haven’t actually thought about that in a while.”

  Both of us sink into the water, Wyatt tucking himself back into his shorts, and then we sit back against the jets again.

  “You’d be shocked at some of the words people use.”

  “Like what?”

  He thinks for a second. “Well, there’s the c-word.”

  “Nope.”

  He nods. “Yeah. And there’s like, beaver, love button, poon, coochie, snatch, front butt. But I think my favorite was the Republic of Labia.”

  I burst into laughter, unable to contain myself, the sound echoing off the concrete walls of the rooftop deck. Wyatt just smiles at me as my laugh finally starts to taper off.

  “You have a great laugh,” he says.

  I grin. Most people compliment my legs, so having a compliment on something he can’t see, something he has to hear and feel in his soul?

  It feels good.

  We finish up in the Jacuzzi, stepping out and drying off with the towels in the small cabinet filled with sunscreen, towels and – oh good lord, Lucas – condoms and lube.

  I look at Wyatt with a pinched expression but he s
hakes his head. “Lucas has this thing cleaned twice a month ever since an issue a few years ago when someone threw up in it and he didn’t know. Remmy about had a fucking meltdown.”

  I laugh again, my shoulders relaxing, and we head back down the stairs and into the house to shower and change.

  Wyatt showers first, emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a towel. My mouth drops open and he chuckles, leans in and gives me a kiss. “Your turn.”

  Shaking my head, I jump into the shower, making quick work of cleaning the sand, salt and chlorine off of my body. When I get out, I put on this amazing peachy lotion that Paige gave me for my date with Wyatt the other night. Then I slip into a pair of yoga pants and a light sweater, since the temperature has cooled significantly.

  Then I wander down to the living room, calling out his name when I don’t see him anywhere.

  He comes out of the garage holding a blanket. “Fireworks start in about thirty minutes. Do you want to watch them on the rooftop or on Lucas’ balcony?”

  I think about the layouts, ultimately deciding that sitting on the balcony with the better view of the pier would be best. So we head back to the very top again, each of us grabbing a hot chocolate and a donut before we curl into two of the loungers spread along the top.

  “This has been such a great day,” I say out loud, though I don’t know if I’m telling Wyatt, reminding myself, or informing the universe.

  He smiles at me, takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing a kiss against my wrist.

  After we’re done with our donuts, he tugs me closer, eventually pulling me off of my lounger with a laugh and drawing me over to sit between his legs.

  I snuggle back into him, enjoying the feel of his arms around me. We sit in silence for a while, Wyatt’s hands resting softly on my stomach.

  “How much longer until the fireworks?” I ask.

  “They start at eight o’clock, so about ten minutes I think.”

  I nod, shifting slightly. I pause when I feel Wyatt pressed hard against my back. I glance back at him and he smirks.

  “It happens when you’re around,” he murmurs, and I flush.

  I’ve seen him mostly naked, touched him, come with his mouth against me, and yet the idea of him getting hard just because I’m around? That’s what makes me blush?