Strawberry Kisses (A Rocky Harbor Novel Book 2)

by Marianne Rice

  “I do not.”

  “And you snore.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Like a chainsaw on steroids. Damn woman, you crashed hard. I copped a cheap feel and you didn’t even stir.” Her cheeks turned red and her blue eyes rounded like saucers.

  “I’m kidding. Although you’d never know. In all seriousness, you didn’t move an inch when I tucked us in.”

  “What time is it?” She stretched and God love her white T-shirt for showing him she was a bit chilly.

  Jake shifted his gaze and slipped out his phone. “Almost eleven.”

  “I’m so—so hungry. Have you eaten?”

  “Nice save, Blondie. No, I didn’t eat. Let’s go see what we can salvage.”

  He hopped to his feet and held out his hands to Rachael. She took them and he pulled her up. “I didn’t realize I was so tired.”

  “Part of it’s my fault. You get to that bakery early every morning and I keep you up late at night.”

  When they couldn’t make their schedules match to have dinner during the week, he’d call her after work, or class and they’d talk for hours. Mostly about nothing. He’d make her laugh, she’d make him laugh then he’d get horny.

  He held her close, massaging warmth back into her arms. Thinking her neck could use some attention as well, he nuzzled his lips into her softness, then made a pathway to her mouth. Sweet. Always so sweet. The loud grumbling of his stomach turned her lips up and she pulled away.

  “Let’s get some food in you, big guy.”

  Thankfully he’d had enough common sense to put the chicken in the fridge before taking a three-hour nap with Rachael. The salad still sat on the counter and he figured it was fine.

  “Do you want cold chicken or should I warm it up?”

  “Cold chicken sounds perfect. I’m—” His eyebrows shot up in warning, sensing she was about to apologize again. “Thankful for your cooking.”

  “Another good save, Blondie. Let’s eat.”

  He enjoyed watching her nibble around the chicken bone, then delicately wipe her mouth with her napkin, wishing he were either one. The bone or the wet napkin.

  Jake stirred in his seat, adjusting himself. Again. He hoped when they finally had sex—and he prayed it would be sooner rather than later—he wouldn’t get hard at the sight and sound of everything Rachael.

  He hoped.

  After they cleaned and put the dishes away, he swatted her butt with the dishtowel and she laughed, getting him back with her own towel. They danced around the kitchen, play fighting with their towels until she caught his and he pulled her his way, wrapping his body around hers like a blanket.

  “Cold?”

  “Not anymore,” she said before she yawned.

  Shit. He really wanted to show her his bedroom tonight, but the woman still looked dead on her feet. “You should probably go soon. I don’t like the idea of you on the road when you’re so tired.”

  “Oh.” She frowned and stepped back. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to…to maybe stay over tonight.”

  Hell yeah. “What time do you need to be at Coast & Roast?”

  She plopped herself down on a kitchen chair and lowered her head. “Early. I had planned on doing all my Sunday baking this afternoon so I could…so I wouldn’t have to go in tomorrow, but I didn’t get a chance to do so.”

  And there went his jeans again, growing snug in the crotch. Smiling to himself, he went to fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of water. So she had hoped to get naked tonight. Maybe the gods were looking out for him. He unscrewed the cap and chugged the entire bottle, hoping it would cool him down and buy him some time to come up with the right answer.

  She wanted to stay the night. Who was he to say she couldn’t?

  She needed her sleep and had to get up early in the morning and so should probably go home. If she left now, she’d get in three hours of shut eye.

  But if she stayed at his house and they went right to bed, she could get three and a half hours.

  Choices.

  “Want to sleep over?” his mouth asked before his brain could decide what to do.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Babe.” He slowly screwed the cap back on the empty bottle and placed it on the counter before taking one long stride across the kitchen. He stared down at her, willing her to look him in the eyes and question if he was sure. Like he knew she would, her head tilted and she swiped the long bangs from her eyes, batting thick, black lashes, and twisting her plump bottom lip between her teeth.

  There wasn’t much room left in his jeans. They needed to come off or she needed to leave.

  “Okay.”

  They were coming off.

  Jake gripped her shoulders and, pulling her to her feet, crushed his mouth into hers, feeding off her sweetness until he could no longer stand. Rachael’s hands massaged his back and lowered to his ass.

  God help him, this woman drove him mad.

  “Where’s your bedroom?”

  The one room he put a little investment into was the master bedroom. He’d slapped a few coats of navy blue on the walls last winter and ripped up the old rugs. But at the moment, he couldn’t remember what they looked like. The room was just large enough to fit a queen-sized bed and a tall bureau. All he really needed.

  Besides Rachael. Scooping her up in his arms, he kept his lips locked with hers as he carried her down the hallway to his bedroom. Slowly he set her down, her thin, soft body sliding against his until her feet touched the floor.

  “Jake,” she gasped as he cupped her ass in his hands and squeezed.

  “Are you sure?” She nodded. Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against shoulder, struggling between right and wrong. No, not wrong. Loving Rachael tonight wouldn’t be wrong, but it wouldn’t necessarily be right, either. “You have to get up in a few hours. I don’t want to be responsible for an unproductive day at work tomorrow.”

  “You don’t want to be responsible for an incredibly sexually frustrated woman who’s only had three hours’ sleep. A satisfied woman can run on virtually no sleep at all.” She slid her hands under his shirt, and in one quick move that totally turned him on, she had it flying in the opposite corner of the room. “Now, are you going to unbutton those jeans or do you want me to do it for you?”

  ***

  Rachael

  After three orgasms and an hour of sleep, Rachael couldn’t help smiling as she stood under the warm water in Jake’s shower. Despite being six feet of solid muscle and the sexy yet dangerous-looking tattoo covering his left shoulder and chest, he proved himself to be gentle and selfless in their lovemaking.

  Not once, not twice, but three times he’d pleasured her, sliding his large, strong hands up and down her body, exploring every inch of her, touching her in places she had no idea could be so erogenous. Shivering at the memory, she picked up his shampoo and lathered it into her hair.

  “You’re not getting away that easily.” Jake opened the shower curtain and stepped into the tub with her. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

  “I need to get to work.” Proud of herself for not apologizing first, she tossed him the bar of soap and a grin before turning around. “Wash my back?”

  “Babe.”

  “Why am I sometimes Babe and other times Blondie?” she asked, enjoying the feel of his hands on her behind. “And I said my back, not my butt.”

  Jake growled in her ear. “I’m going to wash every inch of you, Babe.”

  Rachael giggled and tried to squirm out of his reach when he pinched her cheeks. “I have to go to work. We can’t do this again.”

  “Oh, we can. I’ll leave you alone, but I’m not going to stop myself from looking. And touching. Just a little.” He reached his arms around her and lathered her front, taking extra care to make sure her breasts were clean.

  Shaking her head with a smile, she spun around to face him and leaned back under the spray to rinse her hair. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “
Mmm.” He continued the journey with his hands, the bar of soap leading the way toward her thighs. She slapped his hand away and he chuckled. “You tell me.”

  Sighing in frustration, she turned quickly to rinse off the soap before shutting off the water. Jake opened the curtain and yanked a towel off a hook and began slowly, methodically, drying her body, starting with her legs.

  “If you’re going to dry me, you should start at the top. My hair is dripping water down my legs faster than you can dry them.”

  He looked up at her from his squat, the tattoo incongruous to the white walls but synonymous with his devilish smirk, his face dangerously close to the apex of her thighs. “Then I’ll just have to spend more time down here.” He blew gently on her and she quivered.

  “Jake,” she begged. For what, she didn’t know. To stop? To continue? She’d let him make the call.

  He stood, bringing the towel to her head and gently patted her wet hair. “You’re beautiful.”

  Suddenly self-conscious, she crossed her arms across her chest. She kept her gaze locked with his as he worked his way down her body, taking special care around particular parts—the ones he spent so much time studying last night—before handing her the towel.

  “Don’t I get to dry you off?”

  “I don’t think so.” He stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist, but it did nothing to hide the impressive erection. “If you touch me I’ll likely explode.”

  “Isn’t that the idea?”

  “Babe.”

  “See, there you go again. Why not Blondie?”

  “You really want to know?” She nodded and he held out his hand to help her out of the tub. “Blondie is when you’re being cute. Fun. Babe is…” He moaned before leaning in and sucking on her bottom lip.

  “Oh.” Her body went limp and fell against him when he worked his tongue into her mouth. The kiss ended too quickly, with a devilish grin on Jake’s face revealing he knew exactly how much it had stimulated her.

  Somehow she managed to get dressed, finagling her clothes out of their twisted heap on the floor. There was a chocolate stain on her shirt and traces of strawberry on the hem of her shorts from yesterday, but she didn’t care.

  Jake tugged on a pair of running shorts and a Patriots T-shirt before sitting on the edge of the bed to tie his sneakers. “You’re not going back to bed?” she asked.

  “No. I’m coming with you.” He stood and placed a quick, chaste kiss on her lips. “I’ll make us coffee, unless you want the fancy stuff from the shop.”

  “What?”

  “Coffee. How do you take it?”

  “You don’t need to make me coffee. Go back to bed. There’s no reason for both of us to be dead on our feet today.”

  “I know my way around the kitchen. I can help.”

  “Jake.” She followed him down the hall. “You’re very thoughtful. Really though, I’ll be fine.”

  “Kindness has nothing to do with it.” He measured coffee, filled the machine with water, and pressed a button. “I have purely selfish and lustful intentions. This way I get to spend more time with you, maybe cop a feel or two in between muffins, and then you’ll get out earlier so you can rest. Or we can do something. Or go back to bed. Your call.”

  “I still call it kindness.”

  He shrugged off the compliment. “Milk? Sugar? You look like the cream and sugar kind of girl.” He grinned before turning and taking down two travel mugs from his cabinet.

  She wanted a soy latte from Coast & Roast but couldn’t refuse his sweet gesture. “You’re sure?”

  “Stop second guessing me, Blondie. Let’s go before you blame me for making you late.” He handed her a mug, swiped a kiss across her lips and patted her butt toward the door while he grabbed his keys off the counter.

  Blondie. She’d bet her first batch of scones he’d be calling her Babe before the sun rose.

  Chapter Eight

  Rachael

  They were both so tired by the time they wrapped up her baking that they parted ways in the parking lot, not before a hot and heavy make out session, and agreed to play hooky from work on Tuesday.

  Jake planned to pick Rachael up on his motorcycle, a refurbished Harley he spent a great deal of time telling her about on Sunday while they baked side by side. She’d snipped at him occasionally for getting in her way or opening the oven door before the timer went off. Jake took her scolding with ease, laughing and making fun of her for being so territorial.

  “How would you feel if I hovered over you while you were working on your motorcycle?”

  “I’d pull you down into my lap and make love to you right then and there.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Well, I can’t do that here, but maybe I’ll try that tactic while I’m cooking in your kitchen.”

  “Babe,” he’d warned and she’d smiled smugly when he squirmed and covered his crotch with his hands.

  With all his big talk about helping her out, his presence in her kitchen actually slowed her down. Rachael spent too much time gazing at his butt when he wasn’t looking and he spent too much time giving her gentle caresses and kisses on the neck while she was mixing her ingredients.

  Tuesdays weren’t especially rushed, so she worked extra long on Monday to make sure the shop wouldn’t run out of treats. Jake had given his workers the day off as well, telling them to take advantage of the beautiful weather. She knew this would set his current project back a bit, and that he’d have to put in extra hours later in the week, which made her fall for him even more.

  The loud engine coming down the drive revved up her heartbeat with anticipation of the day. Nothing on the agenda but a long ride and time together. Perfect. Dressed in jeans, black work boots and a white T-shirt, he reminded Rachael of an old-fashioned movie star.

  Jake removed his helmet, kicked out his stand, and slung one long leg over the bike. Her ovaries tap-danced, reminding her how much she enjoyed being nestled between those thighs.

  “You look hot,” she admitted.

  “You like?”

  Rachael nodded and skipped down the steps. He welcomed her with a searing kiss before strapping a helmet on her head. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”

  “I’ll go slow. We’re in no rush today anyway. Figured we’d take the scenic way up Route One and stop when we see a good place to stretch our legs. That okay?”

  “Perfect.” Rachael swung her leg over the seat of the bike and licked her lips in anticipation.

  “Babe,” he growled. “You look hot.” Jake put his helmet on, his gaze staying locked on hers the entire time, before turning around and straddling the bike. “Hold on tight but let me know if you want me to slow down or if you need a rest. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He revved his engine, kicked up his stand, and made a slow descent down the driveway. She hugged him tight, keeping her hands clutched on his sides. Jake tensed under her touch and slowly relaxed as they made their way down Route One. The warm sun and the ocean breeze tickled her bare arms as the vibration of the bike between her thighs made her think of Jake and how his hands had warmed and tickled her body a few nights ago.

  When they slowed at a stoplight Jake turned around. “You doing okay?”

  “This is awesome. I can’t believe I’ve never driven up the coast on a bike before. Everyone should experience the view from here.”

  “The view is pretty kick-ass.” Jake’s chocolate eyes darkened before he turned around and accelerated through the intersection.

  They stopped at a deli and ordered sandwiches, deciding to eat them at Pemaquid Lighthouse. The view never got old. Maine’s coast was dotted with hundreds of islands and lighthouses, all unique and beautiful in their own right. Every beach was a completely different experience, from York to Rocky Harbor to Casco and Bar Harbor.

  And none were like California, where the beaches looked similar: sandy and littered with lifeguard stations and surf
ers. There were beautiful beaches in California but the only areas she was allowed to go were identical and commercialized. She supposed it wasn’t fair to give California beaches a bad rap, but they weren’t for her. Rachael had wanted to visit Santa Barbara but Dylan wouldn’t let her go by herself, and he never wanted to go.

  This. The rocks, the lighthouses, the islands, and the sound of the waves crashing against the jutted shore, this was what Rachael appreciated. The beauty of nature, not an open space to lay out and get a tan.

  Jake parked the bike in a shady area and turned backwards in his seat, facing Rachael before taking his helmet off. “How are your legs?” He rubbed his hands up and down her thighs, a mischievous smirk taking over his face.

  “They feel like rubber.” She unhooked her helmet and handed it to Jake. “Can we walk a little before we eat?”

  “As you wish.” He took their lunch out of the bag strapped to the back of his bike and held out his hand for her. “Lead the way, Blondie.”

  They followed a path that led to the Fishermen’s Museum. “Can we look around first?”

  “Of course.”

  She warmed at Jake’s casual response. It had been years since she’d been able to make decisions, call the shots, or even make suggestions. To be heard and appreciated made her heart swell with happiness. They took their time reading the history of the lighthouse and maritime heritage, and examining old artifacts from over the years.

  She looked up the steep, circular stairs leading to the top of the lighthouse and then turned to Jake. “Can we go up?”

  “You don’t have to ask, Blondie. I’m following you. You lead the way.”

  Rachael gave him a quick hug before rushing to the stairs. “I haven’t been up here since I was in middle school. And I didn’t make it to the top. I got scared and turned around. Graham and Colton teased me but Luke stayed behind while my brothers raced to the top.”

  “We don’t have to go to the top if you’re not comfortable.”

  “Nuh, uh. I’m overcoming all sorts of obstacles. This is just another on my bucket list.”

  “Oh yeah, what’s another?”