by Tamara Lush
“I gathered that when you woke me up at six.” For another round of incredible sex.
Somehow, it feels good to talk about absolutely nothing this morning with her. It’s easy and casual. Sometimes after a night of sex with a woman, conversation the next day is awkward. Stilted. This morning with Natalia feels like we’ve been doing this for years, only with the gilded, exciting sheen of a new relationship. All that sexual tension and anticipation. The best of both worlds. I’m probably jumping the gun here, but I think this could turn into something serious…
“My family thought I should’ve gotten a house somewhere on the middle of the island, something bigger, with a garage. But when I saw this view and this balcony, I was like, nope.” She opens her eyes and squeezes my hand.
“It’s really cool that you’re so close to your family.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Yeah. There was a time when I was a teenager that I was kind of a rebel. I deeply disliked them. Okay, I was a pain in the ass. But now, family’s everything to me. And since my brothers have all paired off, there are new people in the mix. It’s awesome. It’s like I have four instant sisters. Everything finally feels right. Is it at all like that with your family, too?”
I take a deep breath. “Well, with Chloe, sure. The sun rises and the moon sets with her. The rest of my family, that’s a whole other story…” My voice trails off and I wince.
Natalia glances at me. “What? Difficult childhood? You don’t strike me as someone who was rebellious. You seem well-adjusted and normal.”
I huff a little laugh. So much for easy conversation. “Not a rebel. Difficult childhood, though? You could say that. I’m closest to my sister. She’s two years younger and still in Boston. That’s where we grew up.”
“I don’t know why I had the impression that you grew up in Florida. I guess cause you said you visited here when you were younger?”
“I did visit, a couple of times. My mom…” I wave my hand. “You probably don’t want to hear this.”
Or maybe I don’t want to talk about it. Or do I? If I’m going to take this to the next level with her, she’ll have to know, eventually.
“I do,” she says, wide-eyed. “I mean, if you feel like talking.”
“Well. When I was six, my mom got pregnant by another man. She left us for him. It was abrupt and devastating, to say the least.”
“Ohh,” she whispers.
“My sister and I didn’t see her, or her new family, for years. We sided with my dad. When I was a teen, relations thawed, and I came here to visit her a couple of times because she had a place on the beach. It was awful. Her and the visits, not the island. I always loved the island. My only decent memory of those visits is of going out on a fishing boat with my half-brother.”
I thread my hands together and look down. It dawns on me that Nat is right around the same age as Chad, but she probably wouldn’t know him since he was such a little shit back then and bounced around from school to school. I don’t even know if he went to high school here. If he did, it probably wasn’t for long. I’ll have to ask him.
“Are you close with your mom now? What about your dad and your half-brother? And your stepfather?”
“My dad passed the year Chloe was born. And that’s when I got back in touch with Mom after many years of having no contact, or only sporadic contact. She’s Chloe’s only living grandparent.”
“And how is it?”
I sip my coffee and swallow. “It’s not bad. Getting better. I’ve forgiven her for the past. Done a lot of soul searching about forgiveness. It’s a process. My sister’s a lot angrier than I am, but it’s just not in my nature to be angry. Also, Chloe loves her and she loves Chloe, so that goes a long way. As far as my half-brother goes? Eh. He’s okay. I don’t know him all that well, truthfully. We never lived together. He’s in New York now. I tolerate my stepfather.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you when you were little. It must have been so difficult.” Her voice is wobbly.
I pause, searching for the right words. “A lot of people have it far worse. I’ve never wanted for anything, graduated from college, had a great career with Delta. And now I’m here with my dream business and…” I grin, then realize that saying the words dream woman might be a little too much too soon. “Here on this balcony with you. Watching the sun rise. So, I feel pretty damned lucky overall.”
“I like your attitude. You’ve turned some awful things into blessings. Or you hide your past issues well. Or maybe you are some sort of Zen master, here to teach the world how not to be bitter and crazy.” Smiling, she leans over and kisses me.
“I don’t know about that. I just don’t have a bitter disposition. I’m not a victim; I don’t have it worse than others. I’m just a regular guy.”
“A pretty amazing guy. An excellent kisser. And A-plus at other things, too,” she murmurs, then kisses me a second time. The way she looks at me through those long lashes of hers, all seductive-like, makes my dick hard.
I groan. “Babe, it’s almost eight-thirty and I need to meet with a fuel supplier this morning. If you keep kissing me, I’m going to miss my meeting, because I’m going to want to take you back to bed.”
“Mmmm. Bed,” she hums, a swoony look on her face. “I like bed.”
“You’re hilarious. Tonight?” I tuck a lock of her golden hair behind her ear.
“You want to?” Her expression is eager and almost incredulous.
“Of course, I do. I’m free every night this week. I’m yours anytime you want.”
“When do you have to drive across the state to get your daughter? Friday? Or Saturday? Oh, and I wanted to talk with you about the mermaid party. Leilani was thinking about Sunday morning, if that’s good for you two. Or we can wait a week to do it so she can settle in.”
I rest my mug on a side table. “I’m not driving. I’m flying.”
Her eyes go big. “The helicopter?”
Her astonishment makes me chuckle. “No, I have a small plane for personal use. You know where I live, right?”
She shakes her head and laughs. “Something I should’ve asked in between eating pizza and sexing you up.”
God, I love to hear her laugh. “I bought a place in that fly-in community on the south side of the island.”
“Oh! The one where there are runways instead of streets? I’ve heard of it but haven’t been. Whoa.”
“Yeah, that one. There are only six houses there now, but more are planned. It’s for people who have small aircraft. I have a hangar instead of a garage.”
“I can’t wait to see it. I mean, if you want to show me.”
“Of course, I want to show you. And I’d love to take you flying sometime. I’m flying the Cessna over to Fort Lauderdale Friday night, picking Chloe up, and coming back that night. I’d bring you, but…”
She holds up her hand. “No, I get it. No. We’re going to have to go slow with her. Or something. Right? Is the party too soon for us to meet? As friends?”
“No, I don’t think so. Introducing you as a friend is the way to go.”
“Definitely. That’s probably the best idea. I mean, we are friends. I don’t want it to be awkward for her. Or you.” She licks her lips.
“I haven’t ever introduced a friend, or girlfriend, to her.”
She frowns. “How come?”
I shrug. “Because I haven’t had a girlfriend since the divorce.”
“Oh.” She blinks rapidly. “But you have slept with others? Sorry. That’s the no-filter part of my brain. Tell me to shut up.”
I reach out and boop her nose with my finger. “No apologies. Honestly? For about six months after the divorce, I kind of indulged in whatever came my way on Tinder. Which wasn’t much, but it felt right at the time.”
“That’s normal, I guess. Right? Get back in the swing?” A flicker of emotion shadows her eyes.
“I suppose. But that whole scene lost its appeal quickly, and I haven’t done anything since then. So, nothing
and no one for the last couple of years. Until you. But it’s best to go slow when it comes to Chloe.”
“Wow.” A pink flush creeps onto her apple-plump cheeks. “Wow. Well okay. Good to know. And yeah, I agree, about your daughter. We did just meet and all.”
There’s a pause, and the silence between us is filled with the screech of seagulls dive-bombing the water. Jesus, I hope I didn’t say too much about my post-divorce hookups.
She rests her hand on the top of my thigh. “Ah, back to Sunday. Would that be the best day for a party? Leilani has that morning free and she has a bunch of ideas. Specifically, a mermaid brunch. Like with mock cocktails. Mocktails.”
“I can’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday morning. Just tell me what I can bring.”
“You and your daughter. That’s all you need to bring, sexy man.”
I grab her and pull her onto my lap. Natalia makes a little squealing noise, and then a thought hits me like a full blast of the Florida sun.
More than anything, I hope she and Chloe get along.
Chapter Thirteen
NATALIA
“What’s your problem?” Max grumbles.
“Nothing. I am problem free.” I beam at my BLT salad. My brother and I are having lunch at the restort restaurant, but my mind isn’t on work, or my family.
That’s because Matthew stayed over again last night, and we’re supposed to see each other after work, too. I’m smiling at everything today: paperwork, the housekeeping staff, the walls. My entire body feels like one giant grin.
My brother eyes me warily. I know he suspects something’s up, but doesn’t want to ask for fear that I’ll start talking about sex stuff. The last thing he wants is to hear his sister talk about sex. So, he launches into a long diatribe about occupancy rates on Paradise Beach, and I nod along, smiling.
“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” he asks.
“Of course, I am, dearest brother.”
He grunts and throws a cash tip down for the waiter. “You serious with this guy?”
“Who, Matthew?” I press my fingertips to my breastbone.
“Yeah. That one from the other day.”
I shrug. And grin.
“If you’re serious about him, you should bring him to meet Ma and Dad. And maybe the rest of the family.”
“Jesus, Max. I didn’t realize I had to get approval for my dating life from you. Or Ma and Dad.” His words have put a scowl on my face. “Way to be a controlling dudebro. What’s next? Are you going to mansplain something I’m an expert in? Want to tell me how to design a necklace? Or will you give me a chastity belt to wear, so I can uphold the honor of the Hastings family?”
We wander out of the restaurant and down the hall to my office. Max rolls his eyes. “It’s not that. I just feel, I don’t know, protective of you. After what happened with Chad.”
“What happened with Chad was a decade ago. More than that. When is this family ever going to let it go? I have.” I glare at my brother and unlock my office door. “Just because I was stupid and got involved in a terrible relationship in high school, doesn’t mean I’ll repeat it. Don’t you think I’ve learned? It’s like none of you are willing to acknowledge that I learned several lessons from that experience. That I’m an adult now, and can make good decisions.”
Max’s nostrils flare. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Ever since you met this Matthew character, you’ve been…” He waves his hand in the air.
“Happy?”
He shrugs. “And it’s so random how you met. So…sudden.”
“Let me be. Let me make my own mistakes. And it’s not like the Hastings men are unfamiliar with random and sudden relationships.” I arch an eyebrow, then slip into my office and shut the door. Jerk.
Dammit, why did he have to bring all that up and pop my happy, little bubble? My stomach is now churning uncomfortably after that conversation. Matthew is good for me. I think. Of course, there’s still the question about what will happen when his daughter arrives, but I also figure this: if he’s a caring, awesome father, then that means he might be a good boyfriend, too. Right?
My phone pings. It’s Matthew, with a text. Saw this in the parking lot of the hardware store and figured you’d enjoy it. I know I did.
It’s a photo of a bumper sticker on a minivan that says I’M ONLY SPEEDING BECAUSE I REALLY HAVE TO POOP.
I read it aloud a few times, cracking up. This man gets my humor. He gets me.
“Okay, so I read this thing today online.”
I giggle and climb into Matthew’s lap. We’re on my sofa. “That’s always a solid start to a conversation,” I reply.
He chuckles. “No. Seriously. I couldn’t wait to tell you about it.”
I settle in, squirming a bit against his crotch and rubbing my hands against his soft, red T-shirt. I’m wearing a flimsy, black, cotton tank top dress, no shoes, and plain, black, cotton panties. My bra is back in my room because I was so stupidly hot that it felt better to leave it off.
We’re supposed to go out to dinner tonight, but we’ve been kissing and laughing and talking since he arrived at seven. It’s now eight-thirty and it looks like Chinese delivery is on the horizon.
“Okay. Tell me.”
He smooths back my hair. “It’s about cunnilingus.”
My eyelids peel open. “Whoa! Now I’m all in with this conversation.”
“Knew you would be.”
I make a squealing noise and he reaches around and grabs my butt.
“So, it’s this different, ah, method of going down on a woman.”
“Where’d you read this?”
“Some men’s magazine. Honest. It wasn’t porn. Read it over lunch.” He holds up two fingers like a Boy Scout.
“Hmm. Could be good, or could be fake news. Tell me more.” Already, I’m getting wet at the thought of Matthew’s exceptional oral skills. The fact that he wants to improve even more sends a shiver of glee through me. This guy is serious about giving me orgasms, it seems.
“Well. Apparently, the giver, in this case, me”—he taps his chest with his index finger—“approaches the receiver, you, from the side. So, our bodies would be in a T shape.”
I nod thoughtfully. “Go on. I’m intrigued.”
“So, you’d open your legs a little. And with one hand, I’d hold your, ah, pussy.”
My mouth begins to water. “Okay. You can be more descriptive if you want. I’m all about the description in this instance.”
He grins and I kiss him slowly. “Yum,” I whisper.
“Yum is right. That’s why I’m telling you about this. Because I know how much you loved it when I went down on you last night. So, I hold you open with one hand”—he’s speaking low now and it’s driving me crazy with need—“and I spread your lips. Enough so I can lick your clit horizontally.”
“Oh. I like,” I whisper, visualizing how hot it would look to see Matthew’s tongue in that position.
“And I’d lick across the hood of your clit. Slowly.” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and I swear my body explodes in a hot flash. “Kind of like if I were eating an ice cream.”
“Yes, please,” I whisper, leaning in for another kiss. My panties are soaked.
“But wait, there’s more.”
I whimper against his mouth, then sit up.
“You might be wondering what I’d do with my other hand.”
“I wasn’t, but now that you mention it, I’m curious.” Should I rip my clothes off right now, or just tear off my panties...
“I’d either slide a finger in you or”—he slides his hands up my bare thighs—“play with your butt. If you were okay with that.”
My heart is thumping and my clit is positively throbbing in time with the beats. “I think we’re going to have to try it both ways. That’s the only way we’ll know if any of it works.”
“Good plan.”
I press my mouth to his, French kissing him as his thumbs graze
the elastic of my panties.
“You wet already from talking about that?” he inquires.
“What do you think?”
“I think I’m going to have to check.”
“Yes, please check.” I’m ready to beg him to touch me. I’m also ready to claw his jeans off his legs so I can get to that erection of his.
Just as he’s sliding the crotch of my panties to the side, there’s a knock on my door.
“Dammit,” I whisper, collapsing against Matthew’s chest.
He groans. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No,” I whisper. “Maybe they’ll go away. Or be consumed by fire.”
“Nat? Nat! I know you’re in there. Open up!” comes a woman’s voice.
“Oh, shit. It’s my neighbor. My friend, Sadie.” I grunt and launch myself off Matthew’s lap, rolling my eyes. “I’m sorry, I have to open the door for her. She might be having a crisis with the ship.”
“The ship?” Matthew’s hand is on his crotch, adjusting his substantial hard-on. He grabs a pillow and puts it over his lap.
“She’s the owner of the pirate tourist ship. I told you about her. Maybe it sank or something. She just started the business. She lives down the hall, in the other condo on this floor. She moved in recently.”
“Nat! Please open up. I can hear you in there,” Sadie calls.
Straightening my dress, I holler, “Coming.” I pause, then mutter, “Or, at least I was going to, before you knocked.”
I fling open the door. Sadie, my extremely emotional, red-headed neighbor is standing on my black doormat. Her cheeks are pink and her velvet-brown eyes are hard with fury.
“I can’t believe he did this,” she cries, brushing past me.
“Who? Who did what?” I love Sadie, but right now, I feel like shaking her by her freckled shoulders.
“Justin. The mayor. He wants a ban on all kiosks at the marina. So, I can’t sell tickets to my pirate ship — oh, hey.” Sadie stops abruptly in the middle of my living room, staring at Matthew. “Sorry. Didn’t know you had company.”
