"Same reason you didn't talk to me about your ex or your family."
He tilts me so our gaze meets. He's staring at me like he's demanding an explanation.
"Because it's ugly." My gaze goes to the ceiling. "Because I was tired of people worrying about me, or looking at me like I was damaged. Because my ex-boyfriend dumped me the day after he saw those scars. But mostly because I wasn't ready to tell anyone."
It's hard to breathe.
I pull the blanket over my head. I can't think those words. Not yet.
"Let's go to bed. I'm exhausted." I shift into my pillow.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, fine. Goodnight."
"You sure?"
"Just tired." I turn and press my eyelids together.
"I'm gonna play for a while." He shifts off the bed. "Sweet dreams."
He stands in the doorway, eyes on me, for a few moments. Then he turns and he's gone.
And I'm stuck alone with the words I still can't admit.
***
We fall into a comfortable rhythm.
We have breakfast together. I go to school, study for hours in the library, come home and collapse on the couch. Drew holds me and strokes my hair and teases me mercilessly about how cute I look when I'm tired. He puts me to bed, forcing me to shower and dress and brush my teeth and making it very worth my while.
I push away my anxiety about the trip. I'm going to tell my mom and I'm going to survive it.
I'm going to let Drew help me.
I'm going to be okay.
The days of my tests are a blur. I'm in class or in the library or asleep in my bed. I walk out of my last final at two p.m. utterly exhausted. I'm about to crash on a concrete bench when I see a crowd forming on campus.
A dozen girls are milling around something. Or someone. I move closer. There's nervous shrieking laughter from the girls.
"Thank you, but I'm taken."
That's Drew.
He spots me through the girls and motions come here. I push past them to rush into his arms. He squeezes me tightly.
"What are you doing here?" I squeeze him back. He's warm and he smells fucking good.
"I have a surprise for you." He kisses me like he's oblivious to the crowd we're drawing. "We don't have long. We're meeting the band for karaoke tonight."
"You sing karaoke?"
"No, but for you, I might make an exception."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I follow Drew to his car. Thank goodness for my love of walking. If I had to deal with taking my car home before I get my arms around him, I think I'd go insane.
He opens the passenger door for me, bowing gentlemanly.
"Thank you." I offer him my hand in a ladylike gesture.
He plants a kiss on the back of my hand then turns my arm and plants a kiss on the inside of my wrist. It tickles. I giggle, kicking my feet against the seat so I won't squeal.
He catches the skin of my inner wrist between his teeth. "You're distracting me, Kendrick. It's not time for that yet."
"Then get in. I want my surprise."
He smiles as he slides into the driver's seat. "You trust me?"
I nod. I do.
He pulls out of the parking garage, rolls the windows down, blasts The Beach Boys. The song fits the weather. The sky is blue. The sun is shining. It's hot, especially for this time of year.
We take the curves of Sunset all the way to Pacific Coast Highway. Drew has one hand intertwined with mine, the other on the wheel. Mostly, he looks at the road. There's something about his expression when he looks at me.
Almost like he's nervous.
But that can't be possible. I've never seen him nervous.
The ocean sparkles under the bright sun. If it was a poster it would be called Freedom or Serenity or even Paradise.
We drive for an hour. Until we're way into Malibu, way past where Miles lives. We turn left, toward a side street. There are mansions here. All of them open onto the sand. Lucky owners live on the beach in Malibu. They probably spend two hours a day commuting but they live on the fucking sand.
Drew parks into the driveway of a two-story white-and-blue house. He pulls a keychain from the pocket of his jeans and nods to the house. "It's ours for the day."
"What?"
"I rented it." He gets out of the car and pulls an overnight back from the backseat. "Technically, it's ours until tomorrow afternoon, though we'll probably be halfway to San Francisco by then."
"But why?"
He motions for me to follow him. We go straight to the backyard. It's enclosed by a tall gate on two sides. The last, the one that looks out on the ocean, is glass.
It's on the sand. The backyard is on the sand. There are lounge chairs and umbrellas. There's even a cabana.
He drops the overnight bag inside the cabana and pulls the curtain closed. We're as good as alone.
The air smells like salt. The waves are crashing in the distance. There's no mistaking that we're at the beach.
Drew's eyes find mine. "I brought both your swimsuits. I brought half your clothes. Enough that you can pick out what you wear." He pulls the curtain to peek out at the ocean. "There are no private beaches in Southern California. This is as close as it gets."
The beach is quiet. There are surfers about half a mile south, but there's no one close enough to see us in detail.
In theory, I can wear whatever the fuck I want without worrying about anyone seeing my scars.
In theory.
He kneels down to unzip the bag. "This is for you, Kara. You don't want to swim, we won't swim. You only want to swim in your clothes, then I'm going to be next to you getting my fucking jeans drenched. You want to stay right here and come on my face..." He unzips my jeans. "More than happy to oblige."
"The water must be freezing."
"Probably." He shifts back to his feet. "I got you something. Technically, it's for me, but I think you'll like it."
He pulls off his t-shirt, kicks off his shoes, and slides out of his jeans.
He's wearing a low-rise Speedo.
I fucking love it.
His eyes find mine. "What do you think?"
"I'm not sure. I can't see your ass."
He smiles and spins as if modeling for me. "Guess fair is fair. I got my show, now it's your turn."
"You call this a show?"
"I have a strip tease planned to "Hot For Teacher but that's not until you get your credential."
My cheeks flush. That's quite the motivation.
"You brought the polka dot bikini?"
His tongue slides over his lips. In a flash he grabs it from the bag. "Yes, Ma'am."
His eyes stay on me as I strip out of my clothes. T-shirt, shoes, socks, jeans, underwear, bra. It's just me, standing in a cabana in Malibu, naked in front of him.
He looks at me like it's the first time he's seen me naked.
I take the bikini from his hands and slide it on.
"You look fucking amazing." He groans.
"You have sunscreen?"
He grabs a tube and takes his sweet, sweet time applying it to my chest, stomach, quads. Study has kept me busy. It's been days since he's touched me properly.
I turn so he can get my back. His hands graze the top of my bikini bottoms them dip inside them. God yes.
His fingers trail up my back. "Your turn."
I take the sunscreen from Drew and apply it to every inch of exposed skin on his body—his muscular thighs, his ripped torso, his strong shoulders. I finish at his face, rubbing lotion into his cheeks and nose.
He leans down and kisses me hard. "You as desperate as I am?"
I nod. It's a good distraction.
I pull open the curtain and step into the backyard. The sun beats down on the concrete. It's bright. I look down at my thighs and trace my scars. No one is here right now. What if that changes? What if an MTV tour bus shows up the second we get in the water?
Drew's expression is soft, caring. "You ready?"
/> I nod. Ready as I'll ever be.
We leave the security of the backyard.
The sand is warm and rough between my toes. It's been years since I've been on a beach. I've lived in Los Angeles four years and I've avoided the beach for every one of them.
It's about five hundred feet to the water. Still just us. We're still alone. I focus on the dark blue hue of the ocean. The way the salt and sunscreen mix into a familiar smell. The feel of the sun and the breeze on my bare skin.
Wet sand smooshes under my feet. A wave crashes and breaks. Water splashes my feet. It's cold.
I didn't come this far to back out now. I wade to my waist.
"Come on." Drew slides his arms around my waist. He pulls me under a wave with him.
Fuck. It's freezing.
I surface with a gasp. Drew's wet hair sticks to his skin. His lips curl into a smile, his cheeks crinkling, his eyes lighting up.
Once again, the words form in my throat. I want to say it so badly. I want to hear it back.
But I can't.
The two weeks are up. The ball is in his court.
This might be over.
I might have to walk.
I try to push the thought out of my mind, but it won't go. Even when his arms slide around my waist. Even when his laugh rings in my ear. Even when his lips sink into mine.
This might be the last day we get together. I want to enjoy every moment I have with him, whatever this is.
After another ten minutes of swimming, I'm freezing. Not just my body but my heart.
I whisper in Drew's ear. "Let's go inside."
"Thought you'd never ask."
***
It's amazing how easy it is to forget all about your scar-induced anxiety when your stomach is in knots and your throat is ragged.
The beach is empty as we run back to the house. Drew leads me into three different rooms before he finds the master bathroom. It's huge—marble tile, wide glass shower, windows letting in the late afternoon light.
He slides his hands around my ass and presses me against the wall, sucking on my lower lip. He pushes my bikini bottoms to my knees. They fall to my feet with a wet thud.
His hands go right between my legs. No waiting, no teasing, he slides his fingers over my clit. It's too wet for proper friction. I grab a towel from the rack and wipe my skin and his hands.
"How long has it been?" he reaches around to unhook my bikini top.
"About five days?"
"Worst five days of my life." He pulls the bikini top off my shoulders. His eyes go wide. "How the fuck am I going to be away from you all May?"
"And most of April and June."
"Don't remind me."
He presses his fingers to my clit. There's enough friction now to send heat through my body. I press my lids together. I want to feel this moment, not a vague sense of dread over how wrong this might go.
"Come on." He presses his hand into my lower back.
I open my eyes and follow him into the shower. He slides off his swimsuit and kicks it aside. He's already hard.
My breath hitches.
He turns the water on, holding his hand under the showerhead to test the temperature. He slides his arm around it and pulls it away from the wall.
It's detachable.
His eyes meet mine. He smiles mischievously. "I always wanted to try this." He slides his arm around my waist and pulls my body into his.
Our lips connect in a wet, messy kiss. My feelings rise up in my throat. They want out. They want into the space, into his ears, but it's not happening. Not verbally.
Instead, I channel my feelings into my kiss. Into the way my hips shift against him. He brings the faucet over our heads. It rains down with a steady stream, making our bodies slick and frictionless.
He moves me toward the wall and turns me around so my back is pressed against his chest.
Drew sinks his teeth into my neck. My earlobe. My shoulder. He toys with my nipples until I'm panting.
I'm still thinking.
I don't want to be thinking.
I bring my hand behind my back and rake it over his torso. Lower and lower until it's wrapped around his cock. I pump him with steady strokes.
"Kara." His nails sink into my hip. He lifts my leg, positioning me so his cock brushes against my sex.
I arch my back so he enters me.
A gasp escapes my lips. His low groan echoes against the glass walls.
He brings the showerhead over my chest. Then my stomach. Then beneath it.
The water streams over my clit. It's light and warm, a soft pressure. Not enough to consume my thoughts.
"More." I arch to take him deeper.
Drew groans as he thrusts into me. He moves the showerhead closer. Closer.
There.
"Yes," I breathe. "Fuck me."
"Put your hands on the wall so you can keep your balance."
I press my hands against the wall. It's rough concrete, easy to grip.
With one hand, Drew points the showerhead at my clit. The stream of water hits me with a warm, steady pressure. It's different than his hand or his tongue or even a vibrator. More intense, wetter, warmer.
My sex clenches. I arch my back as if to beckon him to fuck me, but he stays put.
His other arm holds my body against his at the chest, angled so his fingers brush against my nipple. He toys with me, teasing me, pinching me.
It feels good, but I'm not getting there. Those damn words are in my throat. Those damn words are ruining this.
I whisper them as softly as I can. I love you.
There.
The damn words are in the space. Too quiet for him to hear over the water, but at least they're not trying to suffocate me anymore.
He brings his mouth to my ear. "Shower's not working for you?"
I'm close to an orgasm but it doesn't feel good. Not the way it's supposed to.
Drew pulls out. He turns me around and stares into my eyes. I swallow hard. I can't stand the intensity of it.
"Come on." He returns the showerhead to its usual spot, pulls me out of the shower, and then towel-dries me himself.
I follow him to a plush, king-sized bed. Drew lifts me by the ass and throws me onto the bed. He climbs on after me and pins my knees to the bed.
He plants kisses up my inner thighs. Then his mouth is on me, licking and sucking and biting like he's desperate to feel my release.
What if this is the last time? It can't be like this.
I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head. Drew is eating me out. It's as good as ever. I should be enjoying it.
I focus on the feeling of his soft, wet tongue. I bring my hands to the back of his head, to lead him to the right spot. It's better. A few more licks and pleasure spreads through me. Not as intense as normal, but enough to command my attention.
He groans into my thigh between his movements. That sound feels better than anything else his mouth can do. As long as I'm stuck with the weight of these damn feelings, I need to focus on something besides my release.
His.
I tug at Drew's hair. "I want to try something."
"Anything." He groans into my thigh.
"Sixty-nine. I've never done it before."
He pokes his head up to look at me. "Fuck yeah. Might take some adjusting." He presses his lips to my stomach. "With our height difference."
He kisses his way to my chest. My neck. My lips. I kiss him harder, plunging my tongue into his mouth. I need this kind of intensity. I need to be in control of something, because I'm sure as shit not in control of my feelings.
I release him. "I want on top."
"Yes Ma’am." He brings his body next to mine, propping his head and neck up with a few pillows. He pats his shoulders. "Knees here."
I turn my body and plant my knees near his shoulders. His hands go to my hips and he pulls me onto his mouth. His tongue plunges inside me. He's not wasting any time.
I have an amazing view of his body,
from his chest to his toes. I spend a long moment taking it in. The details pull me back into the moment. I trace the lines of his chest piece. The lines of his stomach. I shift lower, wrapping my hands around his cock.
It takes a few tries to get into position. I brush my lips against his cock, teasing him until his nails sink into my hips. I'm merciless. I flick my tongue against his tip again and again, until he groans against me.
Yes. That's what I need. I take him into my mouth and slide my tongue around him. He gets more aggressive with his movements, licking harder, sliding two fingers into my sex and rubbing against my g-spot. I respond with equal enthusiasm, sucking hard, taking him as deep as I can.
There's something amazing about the position, giving and receiving at once. He's making me feel good, and I'm making him feel good. It's like an endless cycle of pleasure, better and better and better.
I love the feel of him in my mouth. The taste. The way his thighs shudder and his nails sink into my skin.
He moves faster. Harder. An orgasm rises up inside me. This time, it's not just pressure. It's pleasure too. We're so good together here. It's possible we can be good together when our clothes are on.
I suck as hard as I can. I dig my fingers into his thighs. I moan against him.
The next flick of his tongue sends me over the edge. My sex pulses as I come. It's intense, unrelenting. I channel the feelings into my movements.
Drew groans into my thigh. He grabs my hips, shifting me. "I want to come inside you."
I flick my tongue against him one more time, then shift. I don't give Drew time to get on top. I turn around, plant my knees outside his hips, and bring my body onto his.
His cock slides inside me. I'm already throbbing. The depth is intense. But I'm in control of this. I rock my hips, riding him.
He grabs onto my hips, thrusting into me with the same rhythm.
"You're so fucking sexy." He stares up at me like he's lost in how much he loves my body.
I move faster. Until I'm out of breath. Until my thighs are burning.
Drew's groans spur me on. Pleasure spills into his expression. His eyes close. His teeth sink into his lips.
"Fuck, Kara." He digs his nails into my skin. "I'm gonna come."
He thrusts violently, forcefully. I press my hands against his chest, widening my knees so he can go deeper.
Strum Your Heart Out (Sinful Serenade #2) Page 20
