Fighting for Forever

by J. B. Salsbury

  I bite my tongue to avoid the outpouring of angry words that force their way to my lips. Taking relationship advice from a liar, cheater, and a woman who has always been looking for lust in reprehensible places? No thanks.

  “I’m serious. Make sure you hang out with your friends while you’re here; see if your brother can take you out. You know he’s made quite the turnaround.” Her eyes flash with pride. “His car is worth more than my house!”

  Bought with drug money, not that she’d care. If she only knew how close he came to being killed in that alley, and that’s only one time that I know of.

  “You still talk to D’s dad?”

  Her expression sobers. “I see him around town, hear his bike coming, and try to duck out of his way. I ran into him at a bar about six months ago, but I left right after he got there. He doesn’t need me anymore. Ever since Drake turned eighteen, they have a relationship of their own.”

  “A relationship? Mom, Drake works for the guy.”

  She shrugs. “I figured he did. Makes sense, I guess. Keeping it in the family.”

  Keeping drug dealing, gun smuggling, and God knows what else in the family? Nothing has changed. Not a single fuckin’ thing.

  I throw my thumb over my shoulder, motioning to my room. “I’m gonna hit the sack.” And I can’t stand to hear another word of her cluelessness.

  “Okay, sure. Sleep tight.” She pats me on the arm. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  This isn’t my home.

  My thoughts crank back to a few nights ago, in my apartment, tangled up in bed with Trix, her purple and blond hair tossed around my chest and neck.

  That’s home.

  I’ve been in Vegas for a year and never felt like I totally belonged. Until her.

  I grin as I step out of my jeans, crawl into bed, and hit the light. I pull my phone off the bedside table to plug it into the charger. Damn, I miss her. Maybe a quick text. Even if she’s sleeping, she’ll see it in the morning and know I didn’t forget about her.

  Just got home. Miss you too. Seeing you bright and early doesn’t seem soon enough.

  I lean over to hook up my charger when the phone vibrates in my hand.

  New text.

  I can be there in an hour.

  I grin so big my cheeks hurt.

  I’ll be here waiting. Don’t forget your bikini.

  I hit “send” and stare at the screen, willing her to write back.

  Oops! I didn’t bring one. Nude beach?

  A low groan rolls around in my chest at the thought of Trix fully naked on a secluded beach with no one around for miles. Just the two of us, the contrast of the coarse sand against her silky skin beneath me as—my phone vibrates.

  Hello? Did I scare you?

  I run my hand through my hair, taking note of the tent I’ve created in my boxer briefs, and contemplate how to respond.

  Got lost on a nude beach alone with you for a sec. I’m back now.

  I press “send” and wait.

  That didn’t take long. Should I be worried?

  I type back.

  We stay on this topic, the next time I get you naked beneath me I won’t be responsible for what happens.

  My phone vibrates almost immediately.

  Promises . . .

  Seconds pass and I want to tell her how much I miss her, I want to smother her with fancy words and flirty innuendos, but everything seems like too much and never enough.

  Mason?

  Beatriks?

  I want you. More than I should.

  I blink at the text and then type back.

  You’ve got me. Whether you should or not, you have me, baby.

  My phone vibrates.

  I’m smiling.

  I type back.

  Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.

  Minutes pass and stretch into longer minutes, and I wonder if she fell asleep when my phone vibrates in my hand.

  Goodnight, Mase.

  I smile through a small wave of disappointment. I don’t know what I was expecting, but something felt like there was more to say.

  I close my eyes and go back to a deserted beach with nothing but the warm body of my woman and the waves crashing around us.

  Twenty-one

  Trix

  I squint into the sun that just came up minutes ago as we cover the last few miles from the highway to the beach. The weather report said it’s supposed to be a perfect day, sunny and seventy-five degrees. Although the water is cooler up here than in Southern California, when the sun’s out, it’s heaven.

  I shake Isaac, who’s in the passenger seat next to me. “Wake up! I can see the water!”

  He jerks awake and pops on his aviator sunglasses, his black, board-straight hair sticking up at all angles. “Sweet, we got here before the crowds.”

  “Yeah, that’s because we basically left last night,” Josiah pipes up from the back of the van followed by a yawn.

  “Bee-a-ah, are we the-r-r-e?” Leah’s scratchy, sleepy, little-girl voice quakes with excitement.

  “We are, Leah-bear. Now remember . . . whoever sees the sand first wins.”

  The entire van explodes in voices saying “I see it!” at the same time.

  “Guess we all win,” Zoe says and then squeals.

  After I texted Mason last night, I was so excited to see him I barely slept. I didn’t even need to set an alarm to get up at five a.m. and make a ton of peanut-butter sandwiches to pack in the ice chest. I hope Mason likes peanut butter.

  My stomach flutters with nerves as I pull into the lot, not sure what I’m expecting to find, but I’ll know when I find it. I’m not even sure what to look for, but knowing Mase, he won’t make me search.

  There are about a dozen cars scattered in the lot, and I maneuver to get to the few spaces close to the sand.

  “That your man there?” Isaac points to an older pick-up truck right up front, the tailgate down and, simply put, a god of the male form propped up on the back.

  I swallow and try to calm my racing heart. “Yep, that’s him.” Yeah, that sounded good. Not at all shaky like I feel inside.

  “He brought boards!” Josiah has the back doors sliding open before the van is even to a complete stop.

  “Whoa, awesome!” Aaron pushes past Zoe and they all start to tumble out, two at a time.

  I pull the keys and toss them into my beach bag. I want to fluff my hair or check my face one more time, but it’s too late. My door swings open, and I’m scooped up by Mason and slammed against his chest.

  “God, I missed you,” he says into my neck, his grip so tight that I believe he really did miss me as much as I missed him.

  I wrap my arms around his middle and hold on, breathing in the clean cotton scent of his shirt that’s now mixed with the nutty and tropical smell of sunscreen. “Mmm, you too.”

  “I wanna kiss you so bad, but I don’t want your brothers to kick my ass.” He drops a hidden and lingering kiss against my neck.

  As much as I want to laugh, the tiny brush of his lips has robbed me of the ability to speak and infused me with pure need. Dammit, if this is how cranked up we are just from being separated for twelve hours, what will we be like at the end of weekend when we finally get back to Vegas?

  “Mr. M-m-ason?” Leah tugs on his shirt, and he releases me quickly as if being caught hugging by a six-year-old is a felony. “Are you g-gonna teach us h-h-ow to surf?”

  He squats down to her eye level and my heart melts. It’s now I notice his hair is a little damp and his strong jaw is covered in stubble. With his hand braced on the truck tire, his bare arms, which are exposed by his sleeveless shirt, flex in the sun.

  “Would you like to learn how to surf?” His voice has taken on a softness that I don’t even know if he’s realized, but Leah responds immediately by grabbing his hand.

  “Yeah, I wa-a-ant to be like Be-th-th-thany Hamilton when I grow up.” She tugs him to the back of the truck, and I lock up the van then follow.

>   “Except maybe avoid the shark thing, yeah?” Josiah says, his tanned twelve-year-old-boy arms crossed at his chest.

  “Oh, yeah.” Leah blushes. “No shark.”

  Mason reaches into the back of the truck and pulls out a long surfboard that looks like it’s made out of foam. “I brought this for whoever wants to learn. The waves here are pretty mellow. Good for first-timers.”

  Isaac points to the other board in the back. “What’s that one for?”

  Mason props the long board against the tailgate and grabs the short, stealthy looking one. It’s white with blue-and-green flames. “This one’s mine. It’s better for doing airs, trick riding.”

  Zoe peeks up from under the brim of her wide sun hat. Dark eyes peer up in wonder. “Can you show us some tricks, Mr. Mason?”

  His deep blue eyes find mine. “Tricks? I’d love to.”

  My cheeks get hot and I tug at my cover up.

  “You guys think I can get your big sister to surf with me today?”

  They all respond in some form of “good luck with that.”

  He stares at me. “Well, what do you think? You up for a little surfing, baby?”

  I nod. Yes. Of course. With him, I’d do just about anything.

  Mason

  Cold water. Lots and lots of cold water.

  That’s the only way I’m going to get through a day of being around Trix in her bikini without embarrassing myself. Sitting on the sand, I thought the distance would help. It doesn’t.

  My gaze stays locked on her at the water’s edge; she’s holding Zoe’s and Leah’s hands, jumping little waves and laughing so hard it drops her head back. The older kids are a little deeper in the water, doing the same. Trix splashes Leah, and the little girl runs away squealing before coming back to crash into her big sister’s arms. Trix’s smooth bronze skin warms beneath the sun, and the swells, dips, and gentle flares of her curves call to be touched. Kissed.

  Kids! Kids . . . focus on the kids.

  I blink away from my woman in her bright green string bikini and focus on Isaac. He’s tossing a football from hand to hand, staring out at the breaking waves.

  “Isaac, man.”

  He turns toward me, his gaze not unfriendly, but I can see he’s protective of his older sister and he won’t be won over easily.

  “You wanna throw?” I nod to his football.

  He assesses me for a second longer then shrugs. “Sure.”

  I hop up from the big sheet that Trix laid out for everyone right before she slathered them in sunblock and took the younger kids to put their feet in the water. She asked me to come with her, but the vision of her in that tiny bikini had me benched.

  Even thinking about it now—football. Focus on football.

  I jog out to give the kid a decent distance, but not too far that he can’t get the ball to me. I lift my hands, signaling I’m ready. He tilts his head then shakes it a few times before taking two steps back. He cocks his arm then fires the ball. It spins and arcs high, higher, and sails over my head to land a good fifteen yards behind me.

  “Holy shit.” I stare at him, unbelieving, only to get another shrug. “Sixteen years old? Damn.” I jog to get the ball.

  After scooping up the football, I slap it between two hands and torpedo the thing back to him. He catches it easily then throws it back.

  Seems like I may’ve underestimated the kid. We play like this until we’re both sweaty and my right arm is burning like a motherfucker. Trix and the kids have been working on a sandcastle, and other than the few times I’ve caught her watching and stolen a smile, I haven’t spent any time with her.

  I flag Isaac and we jog to meet in the middle. He’s breathing heavy, thankfully just as exhausted. “Damn, you’ve got some serious talent.”

  His eyebrows pop up behind his shades. “Yeah?”

  “Hell yeah! You kidding? I’ve never seen a kid your age throw like that.” I hold out my fist and he bumps it.

  “Thanks, bro.” He wipes his forehead.

  “Why don’t you take a dip, cool off a bit.” I grab the football to deposit it with our stuff.

  “I think I will.”

  “You mind watching the little kids for a bit so I can take your sister out on the long board?”

  He watches me for a few seconds then nods. “Sure thing, man. Just give me a sec to get wet.”

  He takes off to the water, and I grab the long board, hoisting it up under my arm, and head for Trix. Little-girl voices go back and forth about building a tower high enough so that the prince has to work to get his princess, and the younger boys are deep in the process of moat construction.

  I stand over Trix, blocking the sun, and she regards me from behind long strands of her wind-whipped hair. “You up for a surf lesson?”

  She shakes gloppy sand off her fingers and stands up, raking her sunglasses up on her head. Her violet eyes flash with excitement, and even without a hint of makeup, they stand out against her sun-kissed skin. “Right now?”

  “Sure. Why not?” My fingers itch to push her hair behind her ear.

  She stares out at the waves just as Isaac comes in shaking his head to spray the little kids with water. They all squeal.

  “Go for it, Bea. I’ve got the kids.” Isaac ruffles Zoe’s hair. “What’re we building here, Zee?”

  Josiah jumps up, his face covered in sand. “We’ve got a moat with an alligator-great-white-shark hybrid that feeds on the princes that fail to rescue the princess!”

  “Of course you do.” Isaac grins then drops to his knees to help out.

  “Let me put my sunglasses away.” Trix moves to our stuff.

  “Oh, wait.” I set down the long board and pull my sleeveless shirt off over my head. “Can you drop this up with your sunglasses?” I toss my shirt to her, but it hits her flat belly then drops to the sand.

  She eyeballs my chest, her lips parted as her gaze slides down my abdomen to settle below my belly button. My dick jumps behind my board shorts at her open appreciation.

  “Trix.” It’s not a command, more like a plea. As if this isn’t hard enough without her eyeballs molesting me, I groan, and her gaze slides to my hip where a few fingers of my tattoo peek out from the waistband of my shorts. Damn, if looks could stroke . . . I clear my throat.

  Her eyelids flutter, and then a bright blush paints her cheeks. “Uh.” She blinks. “Okay, right. I’ll, um, be right . . .” She doesn’t attempt to finish her sentence, but turns on her heel, throws our stuff on the sheet, then runs back to me.

  Runs.

  Back.

  I rip my eyes from her bouncing body and pick up the long board to create a barrier between the castle builders and the swelling in my shorts. She comes alongside me and grabs my free hand.

  “You ready?” I find a mellow break and pull her down the beach to the spot that will be easier for paddling out.

  “I’m a little nervous, but ready. Yeah.”

  We head out into a few feet of water.

  She squeaks. “Holy crap, it’s cold.”

  I try and fail to keep my eyes off the goose bumps that break out across her chest and her firm nipples that tighten behind the tiny triangles of her top. “Should’ve brought her a wetsuit,” I mumble.

  “What?” Her bright eyes catch mine.

  “Nothing.” I drop the long board onto the glassy surface. “Alright, Bea.” I wink. “Climb on.”

  It’s going to take a damn miracle to keep my hands to myself.

  Twenty-two

  Trix

  Mason grips the long yellow foam board to keep it steady as I put one knee up to climb on.

  “Straddle it first then lie flat on your belly.” His voice is gravelly, and the sound shoots straight between my legs.

  I bite my lip and do as he instructs, straddling the wide board before bracing my weight with my arms and lying flat on my belly with my legs out of the water.

  “Good.” He walks us out into the waves, pushing the board up and over the smalle
r waves. His crystal-blue eyes are scanning, as if every surge and splash of the surf is giving away some secret information that only he understands. “Open your legs.”

  I jerk so hard I practically fall off the board. “Wh-what?”

  He flashes a confident smile and runs his big hand up the back of my thigh, prying it open. “Trust me.”

  Propped up on my elbows, I drop my forehead and allow him to manipulate my legs. Having to watch him on the beach, all that messy blond hair and muscles that caught the attention of every woman within eyeshot, it was impossible to not get turned on. And now, with his shirt off and his board shorts hanging low on his hips to expose the “V” of his lower abdomen, it’s enough to have me drooling and ravenous. I need him to touch me, as if I’m sinking and his touch will keep me afloat.

  The tail end of the board dips, and the heat of his body hits the insides of my thighs. I squirm to look behind me, but a firm hand at my hip stills me.

  “Steady, babe. Don’t wiggle.” A wave comes toward us. “Paddle.”

  His shoulders and chest press between my legs and keep me steady as I push with my arms. One then the other, I thrust my hands through the water. When the wave comes, the power of Mason’s stroke propels us up and over. A thrill of adrenaline races through my muscles, and I push harder, up and over, wave after wave.

  “Atta girl, Trix. Keep it up!” His encouragement spurs me on, salt water splashes into my eyes, and I squint past the burn and continue to paddle.

  Briny ocean water sprays my teeth, alerting me to the fact that I’m grinning wide, but damn if I can help it.

  My chest feels light and my arms weaken, but the weight of Mason at my back combined with the power of his body pushes me harder. Finally, we make it out past the breakers, and I holler out in victory.

  The vibration of his laughter rumbles against my backside, and I swear if it were possible to have a full-body orgasm, I just had one.

  A pinching sting against my ass makes me jump, and I whirl around to catch the tail end of a wicked smile. “Did you bite me?”

  He shrugs unapologetically. “Can’t have your ass in my face and not take a bite, baby.”

  I giggle, but it dies the second I lose the heat of his body as he pushes up to sit, straddling the board. “Steady.” He holds my hips in a firm grip. “Now sit up.”