Ruined (Ruined and Redeemed Duet Book 1)

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Ruined (Ruined and Redeemed Duet Book 1) Page 5

by Marie Johnston


  After four hours, I’m as relaxed as I’m going to get, and my stomach is growling. I could treat Jake to lunch today. He was sweet to order all that room service.

  As if he senses me watching him, he cracks an eye open. “Are you hungry?”

  “I thought about going to grab something, but I didn’t want to be gone when you woke up.”

  He sits up and swings his long legs over the edge of the lounger and stretches his arms high over his head. That body. Muscles bunch and relax and ripple. He’s fit. Is he a surfer? Does he run the beach? Gym rat? Whatever he does, it’s working for him.

  “I think I fell asleep.”

  Just as I suspected. “Did you sleep in the recliner all night?”

  He nods. “I had to make sure you were okay, and to clarify what we did and didn’t do the previous night so you didn’t worry.”

  I want to bury my head in the sand. I needed all the clarification. “I owe you a meal.”

  I wait for the typical response of you don’t owe me anything or the bristling that happens when a guy assumes I think they can’t handle a restaurant bill. But Jake rises and holds his hand out for me.

  Grabbing my bag as I stand, I keep my hand nestled in his. Strong and even warmer from the sun, I imagine how it would be to curl into his body all night long. A big guy like him at my back, covering me with his heat—I can’t wait.

  I don’t want to stop at the same cabana stand from yesterday, but Jake walks me toward it. He finds a table for two and as soon as we’re seated, a basket of chips and salsa slides across the top.

  “Chips and salsa are my weakness.” Digging in, I hope he takes me seriously. I’ll clean out this whole bowl before he even finishes his first chip if he takes too long.

  He grabs one chip, skips the salsa, and pushes the bowl toward me. “Go ahead.”

  “Is it the carbs? The spice? The big breakfast?”

  “The salt.”

  He is never what I expect. “High blood pressure?”

  The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I grew up on processed foods. Once I made my own money and could eat healthier, it took a long time for my taste buds to adapt. I don’t want to go back to orange powder as my main cheese source.”

  His family must’ve had very little money when he was growing up. His comments about never traveling and about the food are the biggest clues. “I’m glad IT is paying off.”

  “Me too.”

  I order a chicken wrap and he orders his chicken on a salad. Is he going to stick to his healthy eating even while on vacation? But then, he still considers it a privilege to pick healthy foods, so…

  I want to know so much more about Jake, yet I can’t really ask without inviting future heartache. We click really well and we haven’t even slept together. There’s no point in torturing myself about what a good guy I’ll miss out on because an asshole thinks he can control my life.

  While we’re waiting for our food, the sky clouds up and it starts to pour. Beachgoers rush off the sand to get under shelter, but as soon as they clear out, the clouds part and the sun shines once again.

  Jake peers out at the rest of the vacationers. “I always like a good downpour when I’m on the beach.”

  “That’s usually the opposite of what people want.”

  “The rain hitting the water is the most peaceful sound in the world. But it doesn’t rain much where I live.”

  I could’ve let out a dreamy sigh. I can’t tell Diana about Jake and how perfect he seems. She’s worried sick because of my impulsive plan to be easy and indiscriminate for two weeks, and my upcoming wedding left her heaving into a bag. I’ll let her think I sowed all my wild oats and am ready to face our unknown nemesis.

  “You got serious all of a sudden.” He’s stabbing his fork into his salad, but he took the rest of the salsa from my chips to use as dressing.

  “I was just thinking I should call Diana. My stepmother.”

  He pauses with his fork in the air. “Are you two close?”

  “We’re very close, like most mothers and daughters. She’s my mom as far as I’m concerned, but I’ve always called her my stepmother.”

  “And you use her first name?”

  I nod. “It’s weird. We’re so close, but I’ve always called her Diana. It’s what Dad called her, so I did too, and she didn’t correct me. When I was a kid, it didn’t occur to me that people with a stepmom would assume I thought less of Diana than my own mother. But everyone’s family is different.”

  “What does she do?”

  I’m used to having to explain how Diana and I work together. I own the company, and I function as the CEO, but she does as well. We’re like co-CEOs. We work well together. “I guess you could call us coworkers.”

  He dips his head and keeps eating, not asking any more questions. That was easier than I thought.

  How would Jake react if I tell him I own one of the fastest growing beauty product companies? That I’m in negotiations to make an exclusive line of products for Barney’s in New York? That Natural Glow is opening a specialty boutique in Paris?

  But I don’t tell him. I like the magic of the unknown. We’re a young couple having a good time at a resort. That’s all.

  We’re not supposed to get to know each other, but I can’t think of what else to talk about. “What do your parents do?”

  The muscles on the side of his jaws flex. “They’re dead.”

  I let out a soft gasp and clasp my hand around his. “I’m so sorry.”

  He doesn’t look at me when he shrugs. “It was a long time ago.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I lost my dad a year ago, and I still find myself reaching for the phone to tell him something. It’s hard.”

  “Only if you were close to them in the first place.” He methodically spears a cherry tomato and a hunk of chicken breast and stuffs it in his mouth. Chew. Repeat.

  He grew up fairly poor, and he isn’t close to his parents. What was his life like?

  I don’t want to leave the subject hanging on such a melancholy topic. “What do you want to do this afternoon?”

  His dark gaze flickers up to mine. His eyes fill with more heat than he allowed me to see before. I know he’s been holding back, like with the kiss earlier, but this look steals my breath. He drops his gaze back to his food. “Let’s go for a swim.”

  “In the ocean?”

  “The pool. The one outside your room.”

  “A swim sounds nice.”

  How can he look at me like that, and then want to take a dip in the pool? I don’t understand him. I don’t need to. I have to keep reminding myself of that. It’s difficult. The longer I’m around him, the more I want to get to know Jake with the fake last name of Dixon.

  I eat another bite. Chips and then a full meal. “Don’t we need to wait an hour?”

  “I won’t make you swim laps.”

  “That’s good. I don’t swim well.”

  He was wearing his serious Jake face. “Why not?”

  “Finishing all the levels of swimming lessons didn’t make me ready for the Olympics—or even strong enough to swim a few consecutive laps.” I was good at other things and while I loved the beach, I avoided water more than shin deep. Maybe that’s why I loved watching others play in it.

  “I didn’t take lessons.” His family probably couldn’t afford it.

  “But you know how to swim?”

  He inclines his head. “Self-taught.”

  “I have a feeling that describes you a lot.”

  Surprise lifts his brows. Spontaneous reactions like this don’t come easy to him. One minute he’s super easy to talk to and the next it’s like he second guesses how he’s supposed to act.

  “Is that how you learned computers? Self-taught?”

  “Yes. There are a lot of things they don’t teach in school.” His flat look tells me all I need to know.

  “Hacking?” I should be horrified but I’m intrigued. I know Natural Glow’s IT techs by name and h
ow old their kids are. None of them are like Jake, and I doubt any of them so much as share a file, much less hack a program.

  “Now that would be illegal, princess.”

  There it was again. Princess. Too generic for a guy like Jake, especially after learning he’s a hacker turned honest businessman. At least, I think he is. “Princess seems too pedestrian for you.”

  “Princesses are pedestrian? I’m sure a few out there would disagree.”

  “Just the nickname. Everyone uses it and you’re not everyone.”

  Back to serious Jake face. “No, I’m not.”

  “I trust you can come up with something better.”

  “Princess bothers you.” He says it with such arrogance that yeah, when he acts like that it does. We obviously grew up in different circumstances. I’m the princess, he’s the pauper, but in Cabo we’re just Jake and London.

  “No, I’ll own it. But you can do better, Jake Dixon.”

  He taps his finger along the table. “I’ll work on a nickname, but… I have a fake last name. It’s only fair you have one.” Stroking his chin, he pretends to be deep in thought. Funny how less than twenty-four hours after meeting him, I can tell.

  The idea for a fake last name pops into my head. “Peaks.”

  The irony slays me and it’s a struggle to hold in my giggles. As if being here and spending two sun- and sex-filled weeks with Jake wasn’t enough of a middle finger for Jacobi Dixon, then going by my stepmom’s porn last name was the French-tipped nail on that finger.

  Jake was back to serious. No, his expression is stormy, like the clouds that rolled in earlier. “Peaks.” He doesn’t say it like a question. More like a statement that eats him raw from the inside out. “It sounds like a stripper’s name.”

  “It’s an inside joke.” I feel like I should explain but I can’t. Diana fears her past will ruin my future so badly that I’m here ruining my present and my future to protect her present from her past. What a tangled web we landed in. “It’s a name that bothers someone close to me, so using it is like a show of support.” And a big old fuck you to someone who has no idea.

  “Support how? Was it a bad decision she made?”

  “Not at all. I mean, it could be for a lot of people but not for her. It all worked out better than she imagined. She’s just very sensitive about the subject.”

  He studied me. “London Peaks.” There was no happiness in his tone.

  “Jake Dixon. We’re all set. Ready to swim?”

  Jacobi

  She’s right. She isn’t a strong swimmer. I live on a private beach and if she’s going to sunbathe, she has to learn how to swim. If only I can explain the driving urge to teach her freestyle until she attains a stroke that resembles it and not a beached dolphin.

  Although dolphins don’t look nearly as cute with their hair in their eyes, spitting out water.

  “You said you weren’t going to make me swim laps.” She bobs in the middle of the pool, her lap remaining unfinished. “I’m not here to learn to swim.”

  “You’re at a resort with three pools that’s surrounded by water. You should know how to swim.”

  “I know how. I’m just not a strong swimmer.”

  “The ocean prefers strength, princess.” Wait, she thought I could do better. “Queen?”

  Her lips quirk as she treads water. “Still not there.”

  “Sleeping Beauty?”

  She wiggles her hand back and forth. “Better.”

  “Beauty.” Nope, that wasn’t it either. She is beautiful, but it’s too plain of a description for her. I know a lot about London, but I think back to what she’s shared with me this weekend. Princess… Paris… “Belle.”

  Her smile is like the clouds clearing to reveal a full midday sun. “Belle. That’s genius.”

  “It violates the nickname rule though.”

  Swimming to me, she wiggles like a guppy that was dumped in a glass bowl. “There are rules?”

  “I learned them in school.” The hard way. “You can’t make it up yourself and you can’t like it.”

  “Maybe the rules are different between people who…”

  When she doesn’t finish, I grasp her hand and pull her toward me. The water offers no resistance and neither does she. “Who what, belle?”

  “Who kiss once in a while.” She’s breathless and it’s not from the two laps I ordered her to do so I could evaluate how much help she needed.

  “Are we people who kiss once in a while?”

  She twines her arms around my neck. “I hope so.”

  I drift backward until my back hits the wall of the pool. This pool was purposely chosen because it’s the least used of the three. As the closest to her room, it’s nestled in the horseshoe layout of the building. But since it’s the top of the afternoon, most of the resort guests are at the beach or sightseeing, there’s nothing surrounding the pool but empty rooms and a few walking paths.

  I let her think she’s taking the lead. She plants her mouth on mine. Just like this morning, when she was ready to deepen the kiss, I open for her. The hesitancy from earlier is gone. Her tongue licks against mine, and if she keeps doing that, the cold water in this pool won’t matter. My blood’s going to heat up enough to tent my swimming trunks.

  This needs to happen, to warm her up and make her comfortable before tonight. She just doesn’t know that what she expects to happen tonight might be different than she thought.

  Her breasts rub against my chest, the outline of her nipples are clear through her suit top. They’re pebbled, and I can imagine sucking one pink peak into my mouth and rolling it between my teeth.

  Water laps around us. I grip her butt and hug her to me. There’s no doubt she can feel the outline of my erection between her soft thighs. Turning us both at the same time, I back her into the corner. Anyone walking by will know we’re making out, but they’d have to be standing over us to know how far we’re going.

  She pulls away, her eyes fluttering open. Underneath her desire, there’s a tendril of reserve. “Are we going to…” She scans the pool deck around us.

  “No, belle. Do you think I’m an exhibitionist?”

  “I guess I don’t know, are you an exhibitionist with a condom?”

  Her willingness is a front and the condom request is a delay tactic. She doesn’t need to worry. This isn’t how I want our first time to be. Public. Stolen. It needs to be clear to her that I’m not stealing her body. I kiss the tip of her nose. But that doesn’t mean I won’t expound on her sense of adventure and push her to her limits. “I don’t have a condom. But there’s still a lot we can do.”

  It’s time for me to take charge. I capture her mouth at the same time I rock my hips against her. The shock of the way her body rocks against mine almost makes me pause. I don’t care what the movies show, sex and water can be anything but sexy. Sensations are dulled and natural lubrication can get washed away. But this, this feels good. I just have to make sure it stays good for her.

  I ruthlessly deepen the kiss, plundering her mouth with my tongue. I turn and tilt my head, periodically backing off to nip her lip, keeping an unpredictable pace that leaves her breathless and wanting more.

  Little whimpers escape from her each time I change the rhythm. Funny how one little sound makes me feel so powerful.

  Slipping my hand between us, I cup one breast and massage it over her bikini top. The scrap of a triangle is a sorry excuse for cover. Drawing it down far enough for her nipple to pop free, I roll it between my fingers like I want to do with my mouth. That earns me a small moan.

  She’s so responsive. I know instantly if my touch excites her, and so far there wasn’t a losing move.

  I break off the kiss to take a quick look around. I meet her gaze before lifting her high enough in the water for her bare breast to pop out.

  “Jake—”

  Sucking her rosy peak between my lips, I lick across the tip. She writhes in my arms. So responsive. I hope she’s keeping a lookout, because I�
��m going to take longer than I planned.

  Moving to the other side, I do the same and raise the flap over her other breast. No one else is going to see what’s mine.

  Unless that’s her thing, but I doubt it. She’s a good girl. Works hard. Skating on the edge of appropriate is the closest she’ll come to wild.

  And I like that about her.

  I wipe that thought from my mind. Liking her isn’t critical. It’d be more convenient to hate her. Still, I’d bet my left nut that her exes complained that she was predictable, boring even. They were too stupid to see that she needs to feel safe and they were failing her. I step on the other side of the law enough for both of us. Today, I’m the pirate and she’s my booty.

  Goosebumps dot her arms, but she’s hugging my head to her. I draw back enough to cover her up and lower her farther into the water. We’ll need the privacy for what I plan next.

  Capturing her mouth once again, I knead and massage her ass until she warms back up. Once satisfied, I slip my hand underneath her bikini bottom. She rolls her hips into me. Fucking perfect. She wants it.

  Slipping my fingers through her folds, her slickness coats my fingers but is immediately washed away by the water. Dammit. I’m not one to give up easily. If I take her back to her room, it would be too tempting to go all the way. Stretching out her pleasure is important to me—for the game. All of this is for the game she started between us.

  Slipping a finger inside of her, I want to groan. Hot, wet, and tight. She feels so amazing that my mind nearly fragments when I imagine shoving my dick into her heat. Sliding back out, I stroke her clit. Another moan. I circle once, and she digs her fingernails into my shoulders.

  I hit a rhythm that she matches with the swivel of her hips. It’s not long before her nails embed in me again, and her panting grows louder. I release her mouth and kiss my way across her cheek to whisper in her ear. “Let it go, belle. I’ve got you.”

 

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