by Tessa Teevan
When I slip back under the covers, Shane’s body rolls close to mine, and his arm encircles my waist as if we’ve done this ritual every night for as long as I can remember. It feels too natural. Too right. I’m feeling too much, and as I drift off to sleep, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
This isn’t what I was looking for. (Okay, maybe a little…)
This isn’t what I planned. (You know what they say about the best-laid plans, emphasis on laid here.)
And yet I already know this is going to be so hard to walk away from.
I wanted a vacation fling, and boy did I get one.
Now if only I can keep my heart out of it.
I’M PRACTICALLY floating into the kitchen the next morning. If it weren’t for the ache between my legs, I’d probably be skipping. I’d heard about the post-coital soreness after a girl loses her virginity, and for some reason, I never bought that it was welcome.
Boy was I wrong. It’s so, so welcome. With each step, I’m reminded of what happened last night. If the grin on my face grows any wider, I’m going to scare small children.
In the whirlwind of what happened with Shane, I hadn’t had time to truly think about what I was doing. I was in the moment, but now? It’s all I can think about.
I remember when Lexi told me about losing her V-card to Jace, her now husband. It was on this very beach when they were in high school. Her eyes were dreamy and far off when she told the story, and when she said that she’d barely felt any pain because of the way Jace took care of her, I didn’t believe it.
Sarah, my closest friend for nearly all of my childhood until she abandoned Atlanta for life in Sin City post-college, practically scared me off of penises when Jake Mahone tore her hymen and her uterus and left her with what felt like internal bleeding for days. Her words, not mine.
“Big is sooooo not better,” she warned.
At the time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh, run away, or buy a dildo to stretch myself out. Except, when I recommended that to her, the horrified look on her face told me more than I needed to know. Ah, Sarah. The reason I even know how to do a Kegel.
Fortunately for me, Lexi’s story proved correct. With the right man and the proper foreplay, everything can—and should—feel good. Sure, it was a tight fit and I had to fight the urge to brace my hands on his stomach as he thrust into me. It was still worth every single second, every single twinge of pain.
I just hope I’m not too sore for a repeat of tonight.
I also hope there’s an opportunity for a repeat.
Shane’s words from this morning reverberate through my brain and I can’t help my smile as I replay our exchange.
“You’re mine,” he growled. How is it that I’ve never noticed how sexy a growl was until now?
“For the week?” I asked before biting my bottom lip.
He leaned down, flicking his tongue across my skin until I released my lip. He sucked it, pulling it into his mouth, which sent shivers shooting to the tips of my toes. When he pulled away, blue eyes pierced my own.
“We’ll see.”
Two words I’ve been worrying over since he said them. Does that mean sure, for the entire week, or until I get tired of you? Or could it mean sure, except I might be so into you I won’t be able to let you go in a week?
I’m overthinking this, which is pretty much what I do. So, instead of dwelling, I decide I’ll be happy with whatever this week brings and set about my day.
Shane left my bed this morning with a kiss and a promise to take me on a real date once he got off his shift. Since Ariana bailed, I have no plans other than lounging in the sun. I take way too long trying to figure out which of three suits I should wear, finally settling on a sexy little one piece. It’s red and sheer in the abdomen area, and it dips nearly to my ass in the back. The built-in underwire gives my boobs an extra bit of perkiness. Sure, I have to slip on a jacket because it’s still winter, even in Florida, but it just makes the look that much sexier.
My long, brown hair is still messy from a night spent rolling around in the bed. So I pick up my brush, but then I think better of it. I want Shane to see me and be reminded of what we did last night. I want him to see my hair and think of the way he fisted it while his cock was in my mouth.
God, I just want him. Again and again and again.
Before I start salivating at the memory, I force myself to leave the bedroom. On my way out of the condo, I grab a beer from the fridge—hey, it’s vacation. Drinking beer on the beach at nine a.m. is basically a must.
My toes tap impatiently as the elevator descends to the first floor, taking its damned sweet time. Hello, mechanical contraption. I have a man to ogle beneath my sunglasses.
The sound of the door chiming sends my heart racing. I don’t know why. It’s not like the guy hasn’t seen me naked. Or, ya know, been inside me while I screamed his name. I think I’m feeling the beginning stages of infatuation. It’s been so long that I’d forgotten how giddy a girl can be in the beginning of a relationship—or, well, whatever this is.
I’m disappointed when I don’t find him in the lobby, even though I should’ve known better. He told me I probably wouldn’t see much of him, and apparently, he was right. Instead of sulking like I want to do, I spend the day lounging on the beach, alternating between reading, napping, and just enjoying the sun, the sand, and the sound of the waves. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sit up and glance around, hoping to catch a peek of him, but I never do.
When I get back to my condo, I’m giddy to see that someone’s slipped a note under my door.
Be ready to be wooed at five o’clock.
-Shane
P.S. I could hardly take my eyes off you today. How’s a man supposed to get any work done when you’re looking so damn gorgeous?
My heart skips a beat, and I rush to my purse, placing the note in my wallet for safe keeping. And tons of rereading, of course.
At approximately five, there’s a knock on my door. I check my hair, my lips, my breath, and my teeth, discovering that all’s in order for our first date. It feels a little silly to be so nervous about the first date with a man I’ve already slept with, but I can’t help it.
I open the door and see Shane standing there in a pair of jeans, a blue button-up that makes his eyes freaking pop, and a showstopping smile that takes my breath away. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, revealing thick, bronzed forearms that are as mouthwatering as the rest of him.
“Hi, gorgeous.”
“Hello, honey. How was your day?” I ask, to which he grins.
“This feels rather domestic,” he says, and I bite my lower lip, hoping my joking won’t send him running for the hills.
Note to self: Don’t act like June Cleaver on the first date.
Shane’s arm hooks around my waist and he pulls me close. “I wasn’t complaining, sunshine.”
Butterflies swarm in my belly as I gaze into deep blue eyes. “I just figured that, since you’ve already gotten acquainted with me on the inside, it’d be okay to hurry things along with your becoming acquainted with me on the outside.”
“Baby, you were there last night. I’m fully acquainted with all of you.”
I lift my wrist to glance at my watch then back to him. “Wow, Shane. Two minutes in and you’re already doing a fantastic job at the whole wooing thing. Really. It’s impressive. I’m pretty much in love with you already.”
His answering grin is cocky as hell. “You were halfway there last night, sunshine.”
I shove him back and close the door behind me. He takes my hand, entwining our fingers all the way until we’re outside and he’s putting me into his Jeep. He lets my hand go only long enough to round the Jeep, hop in, and start the engine. Then it’s back to handholding. And I adore every moment of it.
“Up for a bit of a drive?” he asks, pulling out of the parking lot.
I turn to give him a wink. “Haven’t you learned I’m pretty much up for anything?”
; He squeezes my hand and winks back at me. “Careful, Alyssa. I might just have to take you up on that.”
I laugh, and we settle into easy conversation. He tells me about growing up as an only child, and since he never had a sister, his mother passed on her—in his words—fantastic cooking skills to her son.
“I’m not sure I can take your word for it.”
He lifts an eyebrow just as he turns into a parking lot. He turns the car off and shifts to face me. “Oh, really? And why not?”
“Well, the only man I’ve ever seen in a kitchen is my father and I’m pretty sure he’d burn grilled cheese. If he ate grilled cheese.”
“The old man’s not a fan of grilled cheese?” he asks. “Everyone loves grilled cheese.”
I snort. “If the bread is from France and the cheese is from Switzerland, maybe he’ll give it a try. To him, it’s not about quality. It’s about money. Only the best for Father.”
“I know the type,” he says, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “You know, there’s actually a two-hundred-dollar grilled cheese in New York City. Think he’d eat that?”
I’m too appalled at the cost to even consider if my father would eat it. Of course he would. “Who would pay for a two-hundred-dollar grilled cheese?”
Shane bites his lip and then slowly raises his hand. “Me?”
“What? Why?”
He gives a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Well, I’m a bit of a foodie, so when I read about it in a magazine, I knew the next time I went to NYC, I had to try it.” He pauses, his eyes far away, as if he remembers the experience. “Not gonna lie; it’s kind of incredible. They make the bread with Dom Perignon and twenty-four-karat gold flakes. The cheese is from a rare-ish cow in Italy that only lactates for two months out of the year. In fact, you have to order it forty-eight hours in advance so they can fly in the ingredients.”
The desirous expression on Shane’s face makes me think he can still taste the ridiculously overpriced sandwich. Considering it’s not far from his look last night when he came, I realize it really must be true about the way to a man’s heart.
I look at him in disbelief then laugh. “Well, I guess it’s nice to know that, when you’re committed to something, you definitely follow through.”
“Stick with me, baby. I’ll always follow through.”
“I stick with you, then you’re stuck with my dad and me. Trust me, no one wants that. But, since we only have this week, you’ll never have to meet the man.” As soon as I say it, my stomach tightens. It’s only been a day and I already know it’s going to be hard to leave.
Shane must notice my change in demeanor. He uses his thumb and his forefinger to lift my chin. “Hey. A lot can happen this week. Don’t think about anything other than you and me together.”
“You’re right. We don’t have a lot of time, so let’s just enjoy the time we do. Yeah?”
“Speaking of time, we have a boat to catch.”
I laugh as we exit the Jeep and Shane pulls me across the parking lot and down a flight of stairs. I’m breathless when we reach a giant, white speedboat. A man with the quintessential surfer look takes tickets from Shane and greets us.
“Welcome to the Sunset Dolphin Cruise. I’m Jeff, and I’ll be your captain today. You can take a seat anywhere on the boat, but I’d recommend heading up front.”
Shane gives him a salute and we climb aboard.
Another man saunters over to us with a stack of plastic cups. “Hey, y’all. I’m Austin, and I’m in charge of keeping you hydrated. Drinks are included with the ticket, and they’re unlimited, so let’s have a good time.” He hands us each a cup. “Beer or wine?”
We each take wine and then settle into the second row of seats. Shane allows me to get in first. He slides in beside me, so close that our thighs are touching. One arm goes behind me, around my shoulders.
It’s chillier on the water than it was on land, and when I shiver, Shane scoots in and holds me closer. As soon as we take off, Jeff narrates the ride. He takes us through Destin Bay, showing off homes owned by various celebrities. After that, we take off into the Gulf of Mexico, where the sun is already setting. When a group of dolphins appears off in the distance, he drives the boat in their direction.
It’s the best time I’ve had in a really, really long time. Something about being out on the water at sunset, with Shane, is incredibly romantic. I haven’t felt this giddy in…well, ever.
After snapping a ton of pictures, we settle back into our seats for the remainder of the cruise.
“This is incredible, Shane. You definitely brought your woo game tonight,” I tell him, taking my eyes off the amazing scenery to look at him and place a kiss on his cheek.
“And to think, before you, I’ve never even tried to woo a girl before.”
I lean back, my brow furrowing. “Oh, really. I’m supposed to believe you’ve never done this before?”
Shane grins. “Absolutely.”
“Really?”
He takes my hand, gives it a kiss, then stares directly into my eyes. “I can never claim to be a choirboy, Alyssa. But the truth is, this? I’ve never done it.”
“Taken a girl on a sunset cruise?”
“Taken a girl anywhere.”
“You’re telling me that you’re, what? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine? And you’ve never taken a girl on a date.”
The smile he tosses in my direction is enormous. “Never,” he whispers conspiratorially. “And close. I’m thirty. I just look young for my age.”
He’s teasing, but I completely ignore it. “You are thirty years old and you’ve never been on a date before.”
“Now, you’re starting to sound like a broken record, sunshine,” he says, grinning at my apparent skepticism.
“You’re just…like, blowing my mind.”
“Hey, I didn’t give you this much shit for being a twenty-five-year-old virgin.”
My cheeks flush with heat. Or embarrassment. Or, really, both. “But I’d done everything else!”
Shane leans in to kiss the surprise off my face. When he pulls away, his smile has faded. “Look. I’m just going to be blunt. Like you, I was too busy with school and work to even begin thinking about a relationship. I knew I wouldn’t commit or settle down until I met that one person who made me want to. I hadn’t met that person. What was the point of trying to date if I didn’t plan on committing?”
I lock in on his tense, noting it’s in the past. Does this mean he thinks he has met someone who could make him want to commit? The thought has my heart beating erratically.
“That…that makes sense,” I whisper.
“I know this is crazy, and maybe too fast or too soon. But when I left your room this morning? All I could think about was when I’d see you again. All I could think about was wanting to see you again, wanting to take you on a date. You deserve that, and I wanted to be the one to do it.”
“Shane. Just because we slept together doesn’t mean you owe me a date.”
“Sunshine, didn’t you just hear me? I didn’t take you out because I feel like you’re owed something. I took you out because I wanted to. For the first time in my life,” he says, breaking it down for me.
“Wow. Thirty years is all it took.”
“Thirty years and you.”
And just like that, I melt.
As much as I want to be with her again, I know she’s sore after last night. Another night might just make her out of commission for the rest of the week, so instead of going back to her condo and having my wicked way with Alyssa, I curl up in her bed and mindlessly watch an old comedy special.
She falls asleep in my arms, half on top of me, and I really fucking like it.
I really fucking like her.
I’m not sure exactly what it is; I’m just so drawn to her. And knowing that we live in the same city has me looking forward to exploring whatever this could be.
One small problem though.
She has no idea we live in the same city,
and after leaving out that minor—okay, significant—detail, I don’t know how to fix the inadvertent lie. It’s just that, when I’d left out a few details, I hadn’t foreseen anything beyond a one-night stand.
Now?
Now, I want to continue this, so tomorrow, the first thing I’m going to do is tell her the truth.
I just hope it’s not too late.
THE AROMA of delicious vanilla bean coffee pulls me from utterly tranquil slumber. I stretch out, seeing that Shane’s side of the bed is empty. I smile to myself at the thought.
His side of the bed.
I walk out to the kitchen, hoping to catch him before he leaves for work. The kitchen, unfortunately, is empty except for a fresh cup of coffee and a note next to it.
Good morning, gorgeous. I wanted to talk this morning, but you looked too peaceful to disturb. Tonight? You’re mine. We need to talk—nothing ominous, I promise. Looking forward to seeing you again. –
-Shane
P.S. Please tell me you’re not sore.
As I go through my morning routine, I wonder exactly what Shane needs to talk to me about. I could sit and stew over it, but it’s vacation, and I’m not going to let my racing mind get the better of me. Nope. I’m going to walk down the beach, keep warm with my coffee and the oversized hoodie I just so happened to snag from Shane last night, and think good thoughts.
In fact, I’ve got Ice Cube in my head telling me it’s going to be a good day.
My phone chimes with a text from Bryan Price, my friend and boss. A text I’ve been waiting ages for.
Bryan: Hope you’re having fun down there. I’m under direct orders from Sawyer not to talk to you about work. But I never listen to him anyway. Word on the street is the competition is heating up on the Fili account. You’ll, more than likely, be on the account when you get back. Good job, killer.
I practically squeal. The Filiatrault acquisition could possibly bring whichever company wins the bid millions. I didn’t work my ass off for seven years to sit in a small accounting department and cut payroll checks. I want to be on the support team of a multimillion-dollar contract and pop the champagne when we win. If Bryan’s text is any indication, this could be my big chance to prove myself to the company. Hell, part of me wants to pack up, head home, and dive right in, but a vision of Shane looming over me as he thrusts into me swims into my mind. I bite my lip, knowing that I could—and usually would—leave with this time as an incredible memory. But what did I call this? My last hurrah. I have plenty of time to throw myself into work as soon as I get home. For now? I’m going to be selfish and have a little more fun. So against my deepest desire (okay, Shane’s inching out work at the moment) I calm my jets and text Bryan back.
