by Sarina Bowen
My brothers are geniuses, I guess, because I feel so much better now that I’ve dunked myself into the water. And now we’re eating ice cream cones that Audrey and Griffin brought us.
“Why haven’t we come here every night?” Rickie asks, licking his cone. He looks cheerier than he’s looked in days.
“We never used to come here,” Dylan admits from the pool itself, where he’s standing with Chastity. “Why is that?”
“Because Chasternak was a jerk about it way back when he owned the land,” Griffin says. He’s holding onto my nephew, while Audrey shares a cone with the little guy. “There were No Trespassing signs posted on every tree. The one time I brought friends here, he called Dad and made a stink about it.”
“But it’s ours now,” Dylan says. “Another perk of buying the Abrahams’ land.”
“You and Daphne had a baby pool,” Griffin continues. “I don’t know if you remember, but May and I used to have to watch you in it so you two didn’t try to drown each other. It was like a full-time sibling rivalry cage match with you two.”
“Dude,” Dylan says. “It’s funny, but now that you mention it, I still feel an urge to push her underwater.”
“Try it and die,” I say as a reflex.
Rickie laughs. He’s sitting on a blanket on the grass beside me. And I’ve been doing my best not to stare at his shirtless, dripping wet body. Now he says, “I’ve got twenty bucks on Daphne in this fight.”
“Maybe we'll stop at one child,” Audrey says.
Griffin only grins. “Thank you for the ice cream, baby. Shall we go home?”
“We should. This one is up past his bedtime.”
Gus gives her a wary look and pouts.
They say their good nights and make their way through the trees toward the dirt road, while Rickie helps Audrey carry her cooler back to the car, and Griffin carries his cranky son.
Meanwhile, my brother pulls Chastity back into the water and starts kissing her while she laughs. Then she stops laughing and wraps her body around him.
“Check, please,” Dylan says. “We should head back. It’s getting late.”
I roll my eyes. It’s not even nine o’clock. The sky is still bright in the west.
“Go on,” Rickie says. “You know you want to.”
Dylan climbs out of the water. “Should I leave you the bikes or the pickup?”
“The truck,” I say quickly. I felt like a doofus riding my bike here in a bikini. But it was worth it. Rickie has been as broody as ever tonight. But his eyes keep finding their way over here nonetheless.
And now we’re going to be here all alone.
“Keys are in the ignition,” Dylan says, climbing out and wrapping a towel around his waist.
“Sleep tight,” Rickie snickers.
Chastity’s face is pink as she says goodbye. And then the two of them are gone. I hear bike tires on the gravel a minute later.
And that’s it. Rickie and I are the only people left. He is stoically licking his ice cream cone. And the silence thickens around us. This is just the sort of moment when Rickie usually hits on me.
But, nope. Silence.
“What are you thinking about?” I finally ask.
“I’d rather hear your thoughts,” he says.
“But I asked you first.”
He smiles slightly. “Fine. But it isn’t all that exciting. I was thinking about how three years ago, almost exactly, I went with some people to the chutes in Thetford. You’ve been?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I hadn’t before. It was a hot summer day, and we spent it jumping into the river and basically getting into trouble. And I remember it with perfect clarity.”
“Were you there with Carla?” I blurt out. I’ve never forgotten that they dated. Carla is my polar opposite—easy and fun.
Rickie blinks. “Yeah. How do you know?”
“You mentioned her the first time we met. That’s the person we knew in common. She gave me your email address.”
“Oh, right.” He glowers.
“So what happened at the chutes?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why do you look so angry right now?”
“Because I remember the deli sandwich I ate for lunch. And I remember we were teasing one guy about his tight bathing suit. It's so goddamn strange that I remember everything that happened up until the minute I left for college.”
“Oh.” I swallow. “But not after.”
“But not after,” he repeats. “It drives me straight up a tree.”
Okay. So Rickie's in a dark mood. I’ve been there.
After a beat, he moves over, bridging the distance between us. He puts a palm on my knee, and it’s cool from swimming. “Your turn,” he says. “What are you thinking about?” He takes a bite of his ice cream cone.
If I told the truth, he’d probably drop the ice cream in surprise. Well, I was actually thinking about your dick and how I hope to see more of it. “Just wondering where you went inside that head of yours.” That’s as much truth as I feel able to deliver.
His expression softens. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?”
“What? No. That's silly.”
“Is it?” His smile turns sly. Then he tosses the last bit of his ice cream cone over his shoulder, without even looking to see where it lands. “Come here, Shipley.” His voice is gravel.
I shiver. “Why?”
“Because I need a closer look at this bathing suit you’re rocking.”
“You really don’t,” I argue, even if I’ve been hoping for this moment for the last hour.
“Oh I disagree.” He moves closer, sitting next to me on my towel, his strong legs hanging off the rock, feet in the water. His fuzzy knee brushes against my smoother one, and I can’t help but want more.
I won’t ask for it. A smarter girl wouldn’t be at war with herself like this. And I don’t mean to be coy. But I can’t help feeling like Rickie is more than I can handle. I’m no Carla. Any minute now he’s going to realize that I’m not half as sexy and desirable as he thought.
If I said that to Violet, she’d yell at me and make me take it back. And maybe she’s even right. But you can’t always help the way you feel.
My thoughts must not be loud enough for Rickie to hear because he lifts my damp hair and tucks it away over my shoulder. He’s casual about it, as if we always do this. Then he leans in and kisses my neck, smooth as you please.
Tingles shoot across my body. And then they redouble as he slips a finger under the shoulder strap of my bathing suit and runs the length of it, down to my breast. “Did you wear this for me?” he whispers, as his breath tickles the shell of my ear.
“No,” I say. But what I mean is, yes, but I shouldn’t have. I just spent several days wishing he’d pay more attention. And now that I have his attention, I’ve forgotten what to do with it.
But Rickie hasn’t. “I like it anyway. And I like you.” The compliment just rolls off his tongue. And I turn my chin to look into his warm gray eyes. They crinkle at the corners when he smiles back at me. “You look hot in this. But I still want to take it off you.”
Instead of replying, I just stare at him in wonder. He makes it sound so easy. I want this. I like it. I like you. I wonder if that will always be hard for me, or if the fear will seep out of me some day, so that I can look at a man and say, I want you, too.
“You’re mad at me,” he whispers.
“No,” I say quickly. “I’m really not.”
“Yeah, you are. A little bit. Because I’ve been stuck inside my own head. I’ve been neglecting you.”
“You’ve been distant,” I say carefully. “But that’s me on a good day.”
He laughs, and I feel it rumble inside my chest. “You’re not distant. You’re cautious. And you have reasons. He hasn’t contacted you again, has he?” After asking the question, Rickie wraps an arm around me and scoops me onto his lap. Suddenly we’re nose to nose. “Has he?”
&
nbsp; “N-no,” I say.
“Good. Do you have anything else to tell me?”
“No? Why?” His gaze at point-blank range is so distracting.
“Because I’m going to kiss you in a minute, and you’ll forget whatever you had to say.”
“That’s arrogant.”
“No it isn’t.” His smile teases me. “Because I’ll forget too. I’ve got it bad for you. And I’m sorry to send you mixed signals this week. We’re more alike than you think.”
“We are?” I ask as his hand cups my face. I lean into the pressure of his palm. I can’t help myself.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Messy lives and greedy hearts. That’s us, Shipley.”
“Oh.” It’s hard to argue with that. Especially when Rickie starts dropping soft kisses at the corner of my mouth. I’m impatient, though. I know what’s coming, and I know I won’t actually resist. So I turn my face and find his mouth with my own.
With a chuckle, he brushes his lips across mine, still teasing me as my body lights up in anticipation of more. “You kill me, Shipley.” His long fingers brush down my body until he grips my hips in two firm hands.
My head jerks upward, because I’m in a perilous position right now—on his lap, at the edge of the pool. It would be so easy for him to toss me right in the water. With both hands, I reach for his biceps and hold on.
“Hey—there’s a zero percent chance I’m about to throw you into the water.”
“But you could,” I say quickly. And I still don’t relax my grip. I’ve been tricked before.
“When are you going to learn? Pushing you away is not in my plans,” he says. And then he tightens his grip on my hips and pulls me in close, until we’re nose to nose. “Pushing you down on that blanket? Now there’s a plan I can get behind.”
Whoosh goes the breath out of my lungs. And I get goose bumps as he tugs us both away from the edge of the water, then falls back onto the blanket.
I follow him on all fours, looking down at him, halfway shocked by this turn of events, and also at my own audacity, because I’m practically straddling him now. “Rickie?”
“Yes, baby girl?” He reaches up and runs his hand right over my ass, and I feel my body respond immediately. I’m hungry for his kisses. But now he’s waiting to hear my question.
“Um,” I hear myself say. “Chastity told me you never hook up.”
His eyes widen a fraction. “Well I guess she’d be surprised if she came back for her pocketbook right now, wouldn’t she?” With playfully slow fingers, he eases the strap of my bikini top down my shoulder, until it threatens to fall off.
“But is it true?” I ask. I’m teetering on this emotional precipice, trying to decide if I can do this—if I can put myself out there one more time, even though my love life is a perpetual disaster.
I want this. I really do. And he knows it.
“It’s true,” he says, running his fingertips down my jaw, then teasing my lip with his thumb. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone since before my injury.”
I stop breathing. “Really? That long ago?”
“Really,” he says, almost absently. His talented fingers trace the top edge of my bikini top, over the swells of my breasts, teasing my sensitive skin. “I used to think something was wrong with me. But now I think I know better.” Those gray eyes look up, boring into mine. “I was missing you. I was waiting all this time for you to come back into my life. And now you’re here.”
A shiver runs up my spine. But it’s the good kind. “You are very persuasive,” I whisper.
“It’s easy to be when you’re telling the truth. Now come closer and let me show you.” He beckons to me with a crooked finger. “That’s a girl. A little further. And feel free to crawl toward me at any time. Yesss.” His hands reach for me, skimming my bare ribcage, pulling me in. I land on him, and it isn’t very graceful.
But no matter. He rolls, pulling me to the blanket, his generous mouth finding mine. His kiss is a searing press of lips and heat. He licks into my mouth a moment later, and I open for him, as obedient as a baby bird.
“Yesss,” he murmurs again, rolling us until he’s on top, braced on strong forearms above me. “That’s more like it.” He kisses me again, while I give in and explore his sculpted chest with my fingertips.
He was right about one thing—it’s easy to lose your train of thought while kissing Rickie. My hesitation evaporates faster than the water that’s still clinging to our steamy skin. He leans in, chasing kiss after kiss, his strong body a needy weight against mine.
I’ve never done this before. I’ve never kissed a man on a blanket under the trees. And I’ve certainly never let one tug the straps of my bathing suit off my shoulders, and then expose my breasts one by one to the dusky sky.
“Take the top off,” he murmurs, leaning down to tongue my nipple. “I need it out of my way.”
My hands do his bidding, even if getting naked outside feels brazen. As the cool air peaks my nipples, it occurs to me that I’m not a good girl anymore. I tried to be, but I failed spectacularly.
And the casual slide of Rickie’s roughened thumbs across my bare breasts has me too distracted to care how far I’ve fallen. I just want more of this reckless feeling. I thread my fingers through his hair and pull his head down to my chest. A moment later, his wicked tongue runs amok over my nipples.
This is exactly what I need. My hands find their way to the waistband of his bathing suit. I slip my fingers past the fabric and wrap my palm around his hard length.
The kiss he’s delivering to the valley between my breasts halts its path. And he makes a low groan of surprise and delight as I stroke him. “I love that,” he says huskily.
“Of course you do.” I swipe a thumb across his tip, and he makes a masculine grunt of pleasure.
“Baby, you can touch me all day long.” He rolls lazily out of my grasp. “But that’s not what I meant. I love it when you let go. When you finally say fuck it and take what you want. Now that’s sexy.”
Then he lifts his hips and turns away, shedding his bathing suit, tossing it aside. When he turns back to me, he’s wearing nothing but a fearless smile. Confidence is my drug of choice, apparently.
We lean in at the same time, and my smile rejoins his. He moans into our kiss, and the sound is so raw and hungry that I feel it between my legs. Then his hand is there, pulling off the last scrap of my bathing suit. My body quivers happily.
And then I’m naked on a blanket with Rickie, ready to give him anything and everything he wants from me.
Twenty-Nine
Rickie
During high school my parents were briefly stationed in the United Kingdom, where their rental flat had a gas fireplace. You turned on the gas and tossed in a match, and it instantly lit with flames.
That’s how I feel whenever I touch Daphne. Yet I’ve tried to hold back the wave of need that rolls through my body whenever we’re together. She deserves a better man. One who’s less of a wreck.
Yet I’m the one she wants. And she’s so beautiful when she decides to let loose. The arch of her back as I kiss her. The hot look in her brown eyes asks for more.
And I’ve got more. I’ve got deep kisses and skin that sizzles as soon as it brushes against hers. I’ve got clever hands, and a whole lot of hunger. Daphne never believes me when I tell her how much I care for her. She doesn’t trust it. But I’d give every last piece of myself to her, if she’d let me. Every damn drop.
Promises aren’t on her mind right now. Just sex. And I aim to deliver. Dropping my hips onto hers, I rest my cock in the cradle of her body, where she can’t miss my arousal or my crude intentions.
Even though it’s a hot night, she shivers beneath me, lifting her hips on a whimper. Upping the ante, I spread her legs with mine. Our next kiss is wild and deep. Her long legs tangle with mine, and her hands skim all over my skin in a way that’s more desperate than tender.
I love it. But God, I need to slow down. My body is tightly coiled
with need. I run a hand down and up the smooth skin of her inner thigh, and I swear my fingertips are shaking as I delve between the petals of her body.
“Oh yes,” she whimpers as my cock gives a helpless throb.
I take a deep, slow breath, and lower my mouth to her breast. I kiss her slowly there, even as her heart thuds against my cheek. “Sweetheart,” I rasp. “What are the odds there are condoms in your brother’s truck?”
“Who cares?” Her hands land in my hair and stroke. “We don’t need one.”
“You sure?”
“Promise,” she breathes. “Women’s reproductive health is my jam.”
Holy hell. I let out a choked laugh and give a silent prayer of thanks for my good fortune. My celibate streak no longer seems weird at all to me. Clearly I was waiting for Daphne Shipley.
The wait is over. So I rise up onto my elbows and reverently kiss both her breasts again. Then her neck, and the tender place beneath her ear.
Then I brace her in my arms. And, looking down into her serious brown eyes, I nudge her entrance with the head of my cock. We lock gazes as I slowly feed it to her, inch by slow inch, taking my time not because I have to, but because I don’t want to forget even a moment of this.
Her kiss-bitten lips fall open as she moans my name. And I realize I’m holding my breath, for good reason. I’m in a wet, tight heaven, with nothing between us. I can feel everything, and it’s almost too much to handle.
I draw a slow breath, feeling very much like a bomb that might suddenly go off.
“Rickie,” she whispers.
“Yes, gorgeous?”
Her eyes seem to find their focus. “I like you, too.”
“That is really good to hear.” My next kiss is soft and sweet. But that’s the only part of me that is. I have to move. And when I slowly roll my hips, we both groan. Daphne arches up to meet me, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.
If I can make this last more than a few minutes, it’ll be a damn miracle. Especially since she starts making heady little gasps every time I thrust. More. Yes. Harder.
