by Mj Fields
“You and Siri have a strange relationship.” He quirks an eyebrow.
“She hates me.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“You’re awfully sweet, you know?”
“Appearances can be deceiving.”
“Is that so?”
He nods as he puts the vehicle in drive.
“Like right now, I probably look cool, calm, and collected, when all I want to do is kiss you until your pretty red lips are bruised.”
“Well then, do it.”
He hits the gas. “If I do that, I won’t stop. If I don’t stop, I won’t be able to feed you. If I don’t feed you, you’ll have no energy for the plans I have this evening.”
“Big plans.”
He throws his head back slightly and laughs.
“You could still kiss me.” I lean across the console.
“Any man who could keep driving while kissing you isn’t giving you or the kiss the attention it deserves.”
“Well then, road head’s out of the question then, huh?”
His head snaps over to me, both thick, black brows perched higher.
I sit back with a smug smile. “You aren’t the only one who has plans.” I hold my hands several inches apart. “Big plans.”
He reaches over and pulls one hand farther from the other, putting more space between them. “Mine’s bigger.” Then he takes my hand and places it between his legs, “And getting even more so the more you tease.”
I squeeze him. “I’m no tease, Prince Eric.”
He stops at a stop sign and looks at me. “No, you’re not. You’re fucking perfect.”
Something between us, something odd yet beautiful, passes. I’m not sure what it is, and I don’t want to read into it, so I shake the thought, sensing him doing the same.
He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it. “Buckle up, gorgeous.”
After I buckle, and he does, too, he takes my hand back, but he doesn’t place it on his crotch this time. He places it against his chest.
The rest of the ride is quiet, except for the music playing on the radio and the sound of my heart beating against my chest, thumping in sync with his heart against my hand.
In twenty minutes, we’ve shared a thousand glances and a million unspoken words.
He takes my hand and taps the dial of the radio, turning it off. “Have you been to Montauk Beach?”
I clear my throat of lust and need before answering,
“No.”
“It’s quieter, darker. The best place to see the stars and listen to the ocean.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I considered taking you to a planetarium to teach you more about the stars but decided that, if someone else were giving the talk, I’d be taking advantage of the dark and you’d learn nothing.”
“That was thoughtful of you.” “Self-less.” He chuckles.
“Totally. Have I said thank you—”
“Shut it, woman,” he interrupts me. “That was a completely selfish act. I couldn’t come when you invited me —houseful of family and obligations. And then the thought of missing those fucking sounds you make or sharing them with anyone kind of rubbed me the wrong way.” “I promise tonight to rub you the right way.”
He chuckles as he pulls down a sandy drive and stops. Then he kisses my hand before releasing it. “Can you grab the tire gauge and permit out of the glove box?”
“Tire gauge?” I say while opening the glove box, hoping I know what one is when I see it.
“Gotta make sure our pressures not too high or we’ll get stuck out there.”
“You can drive on the beach?”
“With a permit and only in this area, yeah.”
“I’ve never driven on the beach.”
“You want to drive?” he asks as he takes what I hope is the tire gauge.
“No, of course not.”
“If you change your mind, let me know.” He winks as he shuts the door behind him.
I check my face and apply some coconut oil cream while he does whatever it is that he’s doing with the tires.
Chapter Eight
Eric
Kneeling on the ground, I hit the Safari app on my phone and pull up the video showing me how to lower the tire pressure to 16 PSI, which is apparently the optimal pressure for my vehicle to drive on sand.
It’s a good fucking thing I had the ability to learn shit like this myself. The first time I blew a tire, I had to call AAA to have it changed, and my buddies laughed because I didn’t know how to do it myself.
It was all in good fun, but shit like that burned.
I am so sick of burning.
Shelby is burning right along with me. She let them have it today. The shit that came out of her sixteen-year-old mouth had me in stitches. If they only knew she was doing it for attention, they could easily avoid the drama. I told both of them that, too, but it’s human nature to tune out what you don’t want to hear, just like it’s human nature to feed off someone else’s misery to avoid your own.
Tomorrow, I sigh to myself. Today was Shelby’s day; tomorrow is my fucking day to toss my maxed-out credit card and depleted bank statements at him and ask where the fuck my money is.
“The drive did you good, son.” He clasped my shoulder. “Something about that open road.”
I had to bite back the fact that I didn’t fly home because “we” were maxed out. I didn’t even have to look to see where the money went. I saw it tonight in Suzy’s dress and the expensive and exuberant catering meant to impress his fellow board members.
I ended up busting my ass all day doing lawn work to prepare for the fucking party, because he thought we could do it together, like men, then disappeared. I knew damn well it wasn’t for us to bond. It was obvious he didn’t have the money to pay the fucking landscapers.
His disappearance ended up working out just fine. It ended up being a much-needed outlet from the physical desire to throttle him. Something I couldn’t do in front of my siblings. Not for him or the fact I know Suzy would have called the cops, but for them.
As much as they all remind me where my fucking trust fund goes and the fact that my mother’s small fortune and the royalties still earned from her work wasn’t theirs, they had been raised to believe he held the golden purse strings. I was just recently made aware that I was the one who held them. That he had lied, manipulated, tricked me into signing legal documents, and has used my inheritance all my fucking life. I never want them to feel the way I do now.
“Everything okay out there?”
I look up at her smile. “All good. Just one more tire.” “Need some help?”
“Not with this.” I wink and return her smile.
“Okay then,” she says, then leans back in the vehicle.
I got through my day snapping with Autumn. She’s part of the damn reason that I didn’t light into him. I’m not sure I’d be able to stop, and I didn’t want to waste a moment of something good here on any more thoughts of him.
I open the back door and drop the tire gauge inside. Then I open my door and slide in. “You sure you don’t want to drive?”
“One hundred percent.” She holds her hand over her belly.
“Hungry?”
“It was silly not to eat today. I was a bit busy getting pampered.” She smirks. “Did I thank—”
“Autumn of Queens, you haven’t a clue how much I enjoy you. Your smile is thanks enough. Please, don’t mention it again.”
“Well, it was amazing. I’ve never gotten my—”
I place a finger over her mouth. “Don’t spoil it for me. I want to discover it for myself.”
“Well, it isn’t obvious or anything.”
“Your nails were French-tipped last night; they’re red today.”
She holds her hand out and wiggles them in my face.
“Thank you for that.”
“Woman, you just don’t listen, do you?” I grab her hand and nip her fingers.
&
nbsp; “It’s not in my nature to not say thank you. My parents would have my ass if they thought I wasn’t appreciative.”
I can’t help laughing. “Did they see—”
She laughs and covers her face. “I lied to my mom.”
“Sometimes we have to do that.” I pull her hands away from her face. “Any unwanted messages?”
“I did what you suggested—ignored the messages, phone calls, texts—”
“Your ex?” I know I sound pissed off, and I am. That
was for me, not some piece of shit who didn’t deserve her, or she left, or whatever.
“Who else?” She laughs.
“Can I see them?”
“See my texts?” She looks at me oddly. Yeah, I overstepped.
Fuck.
“Yeah, sorry, knee-jerk reaction. I just don’t like that someone’s harassing you because I asked for a picture.”
“He’ll forget about it soon. No big deal.”
It is a big fucking deal, I think as I put the vehicle in drive.
“How long have you been divorced? Are you divorced?”
“Yep, one-year last month. But”—she reaches over and takes my hand—“I thought we were going with the virgin theme.”
“Right.” I nod.
“Hey.” She squeezes my hand. “It’s fine—”
“I put you in the damn position, Autumn; it’s not fine.”
“I’m a grown-ass woman, and I take very good care of myself.”
My heart beating like fucking elephant wings against my chest, I tell her the truth, “Well, I’d like to share in those duties.”
“Eric,” she whispers.
“When you’re with me, it is not just my duty, but my fucking pleasure.”
“All this talk about positions and pleasure should not be wasted on my stupid ex.”
I glance out of the corner of my eye, and she grins. I roll my eyes, and she laughs.
“In case you were wondering, you’re bigger and better.”
“I wasn’t wondering.” I swear to fuck I just pouted.
“I wasn’t wondering.” I swear to fuck I just pouted. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Well, it’s the truth, so...” She shrugs and looks out the window, and then she squeals. “Oh my God, we’re on the beach, driving!”
“That we are, gorgeous, that we are.”
She leans over and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”
This time, I tell her, “You’re welcome.”
There aren’t many vehicles on the beach tonight – no big parties like normal. Most of my crew is back at school or at a bar.
Up ahead, I see a small, abandon campfire and think, perfect.
I pull to a stop beside a dune and put the vehicle in park. “Sit still and let me get things situated.”
“I’d love to help.”
“Tomorrow night can be all yours. Tonight’s my treat.” I get out before she can argue or realize I just basically scored another night with her.
I open up the back, grab the blanket, and hurry over near the fire to lay it out. Then I toss down the four stones I picked out of the yard today to weigh down the edges. Hurrying back to the vehicle, I see Autumn standing at the back of it.
“You were supposed to wait.”
She looks back over her shoulder. “Yeah, well, you know.”
“Rulebreaker.”
“All weekend long.” She smiles.
I grab the two outdoor pillows and shove them under my arm, and then I grab the backpack picnic basket and sling it over my shoulder before grabbing her hand. We walk toward the blanket, and I kiss her hand before dropping it, shrug off the backpack, and then set the two pillows down.
“Have a seat.” I motion to the blanket.
She toes off her sneakers, pulls her socks off, then sits with her feet in the sand.
“Matching pedicure.” “Thank—”
“Don’t you dare.” I laugh.
She mouths “you” then bends over to roll up her pant cuffs.
“I thought you in a dress was going to be my second favorite look on you, but fuck, babe, the way those jeans hug your ass, it’s number three.”
She stands and looks over her shoulder at me.
“You aren’t going to ask what number one is?”
She shakes her head. “I’m going to assume naked.”
“You’d be partially correct.” I toe off my sneakers and pull off my socks then walk over to join her. “Naked and wrapped around me like a baby Koala.”
“I happened to like that look on us, too.”
Us, I think as I grab the bag. I unzip it then pull out two champagne flutes and set them on my blanket. Then I reach in to grab the bottle of Cristal, which I prefer over Dom and realize it’s gone.
Standing, I tell her, “Give me a second. I think I left the champagne.”
“I have a bottle of Dom in my bag.” She pulls it out.
“Didn’t want to drink it alone.”
I kneel back down and take the bottle. “Perfect.”
I hold the bottle and slice my fingernail through to catch the wire screw.
“The foil,” she says.
“I learned the proper way to open a bottle of champagne is with the foil attached.”
“Is that so?” She leans in to watch.
“After you unscrew the tab on the wire cage, turn the bottle, and the cork comes out with a hiss, not a pop.” As the bottle hisses, I look at her.
“Just like that.” She smiles. “I’m impressed, Prince Eric.”
“Don’t be, Autumn of Queens. I learned that at fifteen…from a babysitter.”
She laughs. “You must have loved her.”
“After two bottles of champagne, I ‘loved’ her for all of three minutes...before I popped like a cork.”
“What!”
“I was a virgin. Shit happened fast. I’ve learned to control my cork.”
“How old was she?” she gasps.
“Old enough to drive, experienced enough to open a bottle of champagne, and smart enough not to tell my father.”
“But she was your babysitter.”
I like her cheeks getting red and the scowl. I like it a little too damn much.
“She was watching my siblings; I was just getting home from a party.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “How old was she?”
“Nineteen, maybe twenty—”
“Twenty! She should be arrested!”
“She should be applauded. I was a chubby kid who needed a release.”
“It’s not right.”
“Five years surely shouldn’t be grounds for jail time,” I joke while pouring her a glass.
She takes it, reluctantly, and huffs, “An ass-kicking and jail time. You were fifteen, for God’s sake.”
Laughing, I pour myself a glass. “And how old were you when you lost your virginity?”
“Last night,” she deadpans before drinking the entire glass down and handing me the empty. “Another please.”
I laugh inwardly because she’s truly pissed off, and I don’t want her that way. “Let’s get you fed first. You’re kind of hangry.”
“I’m sad for fifteen-year-old Eric,” she corrects me.
“Fifteen-year-old Eric was a sad kid. Fucking and sports made him a man.”
“That’s—”
“It is what it is. Can’t change your past, just the future you.” I set down her empty glass and pull out a bottle of water, crack it open, and hand it to her.
She holds it up. “Cheers to that.”
“Let’s go back to you being a virgin until last night, and me showing you tonight that those rules of yours are important...unless you’re with me.”
She looks up at me. “I’m okay with that.”
I lean forward, needing to kiss her immediately, and then I hear it. Her tummy growls.
“I guess that will have to wait.” I sit back and reach into the bag, pulling out a container of brie and another o
f sliced baguettes.
“Mmm...” she says as she digs her little toes into the blanket.
“You like brie?”
She laughs. “Not a huge fan, but that bread looks delicious.”
I pull out and open a container with skewers lined with fresh mozzarella balls, cherry tomato halves, olives, and
prosciutto. “How about this?”
She sits forward. “Perfect.”
I pull one out and hold it out. When she reaches for it, I pull it back. “Let me feed you.”
She smirks. “You just want to stick something in my mouth.”
“Are you complaining?” I move closer to her.
“Not one bit.”
As she eats off my...stick, savoring every bite, I pull out my phone. “Siri, play our song.”
“We have a song?”
I nod and whisper, “Wait for it.”
She nearly chokes when another Taylor Swift song begins.
“Shit, are you okay?”
Covering her mouth, she laughs. “I hate that bitch.”
“Tay—”
“NO! I love her. I hate Siri.” She leans forward and grabs my phone. “Siri, you trifling bitch, play a different song.”
Siri replies, “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Oh my God, Siri, get a grip. Play a song!”
When a song with a chick having an orgasm begins, I grab my phone and look at the screen. “White Zombie’s ‘More Human Than Human’?”
“Perfect.” Autumn falls back on the pillow, laughing.
I eye her skeptically. “It’s dark, babe.”
“I’ll take it dark.” She sits up and reaches for another skewer. When I reach in front of her, she takes my hand. “My turn to feed you.”
Before taking a bite, I hold my phone up. “Siri, play a good first date song.”
“I Melt With You” by Modern English appears on the screen.
When it begins, Autumn leans forward and holds out the skewer. “I like it.”
“It’s not dark,” I say before taking a bite.
“It’s relaxed, no drama, fun, like this.” She motions between us.
I nod as I swallow. “Agreed.”
Chapter Nine
Autumn
I know I should have been listening to him tell me about the constellations—he’s very passionate about the stars—but when we make-out like teenagers between descriptions and explanations, I’m busy catching my breath and silently, desperately waiting for the next break. In all fairness, with his strained erection poking me in the back, it’s as distracting as hell.
