“No problem.” I looked to Drew and Silas, desperate to escape Tristan and his heartbreakingly easygoing demeanor. He’d been upset when he left this morning, but easygoing Tristan was unsettling. What, or who, had he done to get him over his anger so easily? My stomach lurched at the thought. I think I had my answer in the leggy brunette, sipping a cocktail on my deck.
“Anyone seen Kyle?” I asked.
“He and Gavin went to get more ice. They’re hauling it to the back now,” Drew answered.
“I’m going to see if they need anything.” I registered a frown splashed across Tristan's features before I turned and shot out the French doors.
Drew had set up a small dance floor on the patio that extended out to the beach. Kyle and I danced and drank more margaritas. After the fifth, I’d lost count, but I’d slowly been able to forget about Tristan and the slut parade he was bumping and grinding with on the porch and patio, in the house, really anywhere he could get his hands on them. It was mostly just the girl in the white dress―the girl I imagined he'd been with earlier. He'd probably taken her to his boat and fucked her on the deck. Wouldn't that have been romantic? He'd said the rolling waves were good for more than just sleeping. I wanted to believe the things he said to her didn't matter like they did to me―that I was different, but then I’d shake myself out of my liquor-induced haze and Kyle's happy smile would snap me back into the moment.
I smiled up at him and curled my hands around his neck, playing with the hair at his nape. He grinned as his lips met mine as our bodies danced a little too slowly for the music Drew was playing. I treasured being in Kyle's arms because I knew he had to leave tomorrow. I didn’t know what I would do then, where that would leave me, but I wanted this night to be ours. I only wanted to focus on the boy who’d captured my heart when I was twelve.
I pressed my damp body into his and he smoothed his palms low on my back, clasping them at the top of my ass. I stood on tiptoes and tasted along the line of his neck with my tongue. His sweat-dampened skin was salty, his cologne invading my nostrils caused me to sigh contentedly.
“Missed you so much, Georgia,” he muttered as I trailed from his neck to his ear.
“I missed you too.” I ground my hips into his, feeling the erection straining his shorts. He slid his hands up my torso and over my ribcage, his thumbs resting on the outside of my breasts.
“I can’t wait for you to come home,” he whispered as he pressed my body into his and moved his hips seductively. My breathing hitched for a moment when he said the word home. I no longer thought of our apartment as home; I thought of the beach house as my home.
“Maybe we could spend summers here,” I hummed through my margarita fog.
“I can't, baby, I’d love to, but all the hours at the firm…” he trailed off as he nibbled on my earlobe. Suddenly I found myself needing another drink.
“I’m going to get another margarita, you want anything?”
“A beer would be good, but I’ll come with you.” He started to escort me from the makeshift dance floor to the stairs.
“No, that’s okay. Stay here. I’ll just be a minute.”
“Okay, don't be long, Mrs. Collins.” I forced a smile before he swatted me on the ass as I turned and made my way up the stairs.
I stepped into a surprisingly empty house. Drew had smartly kept the lights dim to discourage partygoers from wandering in. I pulled the pitcher of margaritas from the freezer and poured more into my glass before opening a beer for Kyle. I pressed the beer to my forehead to relieve some of the heat dampening my skin.
I made my way through my bedroom, checking my phone, then stepping out the French doors. This part of the porch was quiet, the noise of the party was muted and the light of the tiki torches didn't reach this far. I stood at the rail and looked out down the beach toward the cottage. Memories of that night slammed into my brain as I watched the dune grass sway in the breeze while the white-capped waves rushed on shore. It really was an idyllic setting. I wondered what it would be like to spend the off-season here.
“I think about that night all the time―how you tasted, the sound you made when I sank into you, the way your back arched,” Tristan's purred in my ear as his fingertips trailed along my waist. The lightweight cotton of my dress did nothing to dull the sparks from his touch.
I sucked in a sharp breath as he moved his body closer to mine, breathing in my ear, his nose skimming the line of my neck. My eyes fluttered closed, and I curved my neck to the side.
“Congratulations on your engagement by the way,” he mumbled right before he tugged on my earlobe with his teeth. My heart pounded furiously in my chest and heat prickled through my system. Fire shot a path to my core and had my stomach doing flip-flops. I pressed my thighs together to relieve some of the tension.
“Are you having fun, dancing with him? Kissing him? Pressing your hot, little body against his?” His palm trailed over my ass and curled around my leg. “I bet you’re wet right now, aren’t you, Georgia? You get off on fucking around with both of us, don’t you?” He slid a fingertip lightly up my inner thigh and under my dress. I pressed my lips together painfully. He was right, I was wet but not for the reason he thought, not because I got off on both of them―it was just him. He has me turned on, all hot and wet and needy.
“I’m engaged,” I whispered. I’d come to the conclusion that while I hadn’t said yes, I’d allowed Kyle to put that ring on my finger, the one that was like a weight weighing down my left hand at this very moment, and that was as good as engaged in anyone’s eyes.
“Oh, I’m aware,” he growled as his fingers continued teasing up my thigh. “I crave the smell fo you on me.”
“I have to go,” I moaned as my heart pleaded for him to take me. His breath, his touch, his scent were all so intoxicating.
“Then go,” he said as his tongue trailed over my collarbone, catching a bead of sweat that was headed for my cleavage.
And then his fingertips reached my panty line. “Stop,” I breathed.
“Should I fuck you while you wear his ring on your finger? I think you'd like that,” he whispered, and the words bit into my gut.
“Stop. I’m not yours,” I whimpered. “I’m not yours.” I pulled away and glared at him, gripping the margarita and the beer in each hand tightly, trying to maintain control. His eyebrows arched and his gaze held mine.
“You’re right. You never were.” The spark in his eyes burned out. His gaze turned to the cottage down the beach, our cottage, and then flickered back to the beer in my hands. “Have a good night, Georgia,” he said in an emotionless voice before grabbing the beer from my hand―Kyle's beer―and sauntering off around the house and back to the party. I watched the space he'd just occupied and gritted my teeth.
Why was I so goddamn powerless around him? What the fuck kind of hold did he have over me? Why did it feel like he was shooting sparks straight into my bloodstream every time he touched me?
I gnawed my inner cheek and felt the coppery taste of blood. Tears puddled in my eyes, and I wanted to burrow under my covers and block out the world. I wanted to be in that place where I’d lived when I was a girl, before I’d met Kyle, when I’d blocked the pain and felt nothing. Numbness would be preferable to the pain I was causing. I needed that place now, more than ever. For the first time in fifteen years I needed that place.
“Hey babe, what took so long? And where's my beer?” Kyle slid an arm around my waist and kissed me on the forehead.
“God, I forgot, I’m sorry, I’ll go get one.”
“No, it’s okay.” Kyle chuckled. “Had a little more to drink than you thought, huh?” he asked. I shook my head and squeezed the tears behind my eyelids. I laid my head on Kyle's shoulder and leaned into him, allowing my body to sink into him, allowing him to support me, just as he always had. An image popped into my head of a wavy, brown-haired thirteen-year-old. The gap between his teeth, the Washington Nationals baseball cap on his head, his ready smile, the easy-going ba
nter. The memory made me smile. My life was effortless with Kyle, he turned me into the new me, the girl I’d become after. I couldn't go back, the pain was too deep. It’d rip my heart out if I went back, but I could go forward, and Kyle allowed me to do that. All those nights spent in the backyard counting stars and losing count and starting over again. Nights spent in the ramshackle clubhouse his dad made, the old oak tree he'd kissed me under for the first time when we were fifteen. My heart swelled as all the memories rushed back. I tightened my arm around his waist and he looked at me with a loving smile. I smiled as tears sprang into my eyes.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“Love you too,” he said. “You okay?” A frown crossed his face.
“Perfect.” I tucked underneath his arm. A guy came up on Kyle's other side and they started talking about a case in the media. Kyle faced him with his arm still draped across my shoulders. I took another drink and scanned the crowd. Drew and Silas were on the dance floor giggling and grinding. Gavin was standing at the edge talking to a group of people, glancing back to Drew every few minutes and smiling. My heart ached thinking I was supposed to leave this all behind come September. And this could be my only summer here. Kyle was right -- it wasn't feasible for us to spend summers here unless we wanted to live apart. Even spending summers here and Kyle coming down on weekends wasn't practical, the drive would cut so much of his time that it wouldn't be worth it. I would have to give this up; there was no other option.
This would be a perfect house to bring kids to, maybe a dog. I could envision kids running down those porch steps toward the ocean with floaties around their arms, pails and shovels in their little hands, but my breathing caught in my throat when I realized they weren't little dark-haired, brown-eyed kids. They had beautiful, sandy blond hair that glinted in the sunlight, and deep, sea green eyes. I think I stopped breathing for a moment as I watched them giggle, building sandcastles, and jumping waves, Tristan's toned arms lifting them over his head, an easy smile on his face, his skin a perfect, sun-kissed bronze.
Tears flooded my eyes. “I have to go, I’ll be right back.” I rushed away from Kyle before he had a chance to say anything. I angled around the house and into the sand. My pace slowed as tears blurred my vision.
Stepping up to the outdoor shower wall, I turned and ran right into Tristan, leaning against it, one leg bent at the knee, the foot resting against the wall. He was just tipping a beer bottle to his lips when he spotted me.
“Fuck,” I groused. A cocky smile lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Problem, Mrs. Collins?” His beautiful, green eyes flared.
“Fuck you,” I spit out.
“I’m not the one you should be mad at, Georgia.” He set his beer on the ledge and turned to me.
“Who should I be mad at then?”“
“Yourself.”
“Me? Not a chance. You come in here and stay at my house for the summer, and… you say things, and do things, and the slut parade…” I trailed off as I ran out of steam. I knew I only had myself to blame. I wanted to lash out at him but I couldn’t. I couldn't hate him for the tender touches, the gorgeous, green eyes I so easily got lost in, the sexy, turned-up grin that had my tummy flipping deliciously. I couldn't be mad that he had such a profound effect on me.
“That's ridiculous, Georgia.” His green eyes flared with anger, his jaw clenched. Just then fireworks rang off in the distance and we turned toward the sound. Fireworks shot from the harbor of the next town up the coast. Bright bursts of green, blue, and red lit the sky as we heard the partygoers cheer.
“I hate that you came here this summer. I hate that you turned everything upside down.” I glared back at him. His eyes flashed again before he hauled my body to him. His lips met mine and our tongues tangled in an erotic dance. He tasted of beer and Tristan, a combination that left my head swimming with lust. I melted instantly in his arms just like I always did. I tangled my hands up behind his neck and in his hair, the hair I longed to run my fingers through each and every day. I smashed my lips to his so tightly I knew they'd be swollen in the morning. I didn't care. His hands caressed my back, my ribcage, my breasts, and my ass.
“I hate that you smell like him.” He growled and nipped at my ear almost painfully before lifting me off my feet and backing us into the shower stall. We stumbled in, lips still connected, arms groping wildly at each other, moans echoing in the humid air, and fireworks shooting off in the distance.
“I only want my scent on you.” He slammed me against the door and held me firmly against his lean body. I pulled his shirt off and a flood of arousal hit me between my thighs. My heart thudded in my ears as we stared at each other, lost in a momentary lust-filled gaze. “Just my taste on your lips.” He claimed my lips with his. Tristan slid his hands up my thighs and lifted me against the door, a thigh in each hand. I sat suspended, his hips snugly between my legs, my arms around his neck. We kissed and I tugged his hair, whimpering into his mouth and rocking into his arousal. I panted as he held me high on my hips, his cock pressed against the thin fabric of my panties. “Just me inside you.” He angled his body into me and rubbed erotically. Lust consumed me, causing my hips to move in rhythm with his of their own volition. My brain was foggy with need and lust and alcohol and Tristan. I wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed and nipped his ear before tugging with my teeth. He heaved a noisy breath when I scraped along the sensitive flesh, then he hooked a hand in my panties, tearing them from my body. I heard the zipper of his shorts come down, and he sunk into me. Finally he was there, and it was blissful. It felt like exactly what I needed it to feel like, not wrong, but the best thing on earth. The thing I needed more than anything else.
He held my thighs tightly, his fingers digging into the supple flesh as he rocked into me. His jaw clenched tight, my moans echoing off the walls of the small shower stall as the fireworks boomed down the beach.
“Fuck, Georgia.” He grunted as his hips thrust against mine. He angled into me, hitting a new and delicious spot somewhere deep inside, every thrust hard and fast and erotic. Reckless, lustful abandon echoed off the four walls surrounding us.
“I feel you everywhere. When you’re not around I feel you. I need you. I fucking need you so much,” he whispered between pants. I moaned and bent my neck, feeling his tongue travel the line of my throat before nipping at the flesh. He sucked at the base of my throat as he powered into my body and an orgasm overtook my senses, traveling from my head to my toes. Fire burned through my system and I shuddered and moaned his name, my breath heaving in my chest. Tristan slowed his assault as I came down from my release but kept pushing into me, a slow and gentle rhythm that prolonged the delicious sensations rolling through my body.
I panted and clutched at the straining muscles of his biceps as his tongue trailed down my chest. He pulled away for an instant, angling his hips into mine to hold me against the wall, and took one hand to lift my lightweight summer dress over my head, tossing it to the floor. He unhooked my strapless bra with a flick of his fingers and it fell to the ground around his feet. I bowed as his lips attached to my nipple and sucked fiercely, elongating the pebbled peak further. He slowly built up a steadier rhythm with his thrusts as he sucked and nipped and teased with his tongue. I held his head tightly to my chest, my body begging him for more even though my nerves were so oversensitive I wasn't sure my body could withstand it before crumbling at his feet.
He pulled at my nipple with his teeth, the pain shooting through my body and landing in a new and delicious sensation of pleasure at my clit. My eyes focused on his beautiful lips as he pulled away and sucked his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes trained at the point where our bodies were connected. He had a clear view thrusting in and out of me, worshiping me, pleasuring me, and my heart leapt into my throat as I watched him watching us, an errant lock of hair falling into his eyes, the shadow of his eyelashes caressing his cheekbones. He was biting his lip so hard it was turning white as I took pleasure from the p
leasure he got watching us.
“Fuck,” he gritted through his teeth. He looked up at me and a smile lifted his beautiful, sculpted lips. I captured them with my own. I needed to feel them. I never wanted to stop feeling them on my skin―my body―my lips. He continued to slam into me methodically, as one of his palms slid down my leg to reach my clit. He massaged and pinched and slid his fingers through my swollen flesh and back up again. Choked groans escaped my throat as he played my body like an instrument.
My fingers clenched in his hair and I leaned my head into the crook of his neck and bit into his shoulder as another even more powerful wave of pleasure cascaded down my body, the sensations wracking every nerve I had. I cried out in pleasure as his body held me tightly and he came with a shudder. I held him in my arms as his body shook and he emptied into me.
Our breathing came back to normal, we held each other, me still wedged against the door, his head still tucked firmly into my neck. His sweat-slicked skin beneath my fingers, his damp, golden hair tickling my cheek, our bodies pressed together skin to skin. Hard and soft. Dark and light. We were a contradiction in every way.
I ran my fingertips along the skin of his back, my fingernails raking along his muscles. I kissed along the line of his neck. I fucking loved him and I hated it. I hated him for making me love him. I hated Kyle for leaving me alone so many nights for so many years. And mostly I just hated myself for doing this to all of us.
I lowered my legs from around the sharp line of his hips and fumbled in the dark for my clothes. After pulling my panties up my legs and my dress over my shoulders I smoothed my hair behind my ears, fidgeting in the small space.
I needed to go.
Needed to leave.
Needed to escape.
A jolt shook my body when Tristan skimmed his thumb along the line of my jaw. “Georgia, I–”
“Babe! You back here?”
My heart lurched and my hand pressed to my lips. “Kyle.” I mouthed the word, my gaze searing Tristan. He stood still, his index finger lifting to press to his lips in the universal sign for shhh.
Sweet Alibi Page 19
