Wrecked (Sons of San Clemente Book 2)

by Sinclair Jayne

  He gripped her hips and had her straddle him. She tangled her fingers in his hair. His hands ran along her thighs.

  “I love that you’re a runner,” he said. “Your muscles are always so defined. You’re going to need them tonight.”

  Hollis sank down at the same time he thrust up. She gasped and tensed as he filled her. Stretched her. It had been so long. She held him tightly, fighting back tears. It hurt, physically and emotionally. She felt torn apart but also the pleasure was so intense, and she felt so happy to be cradling him with her body that she didn’t know how to react, how to hold it all in. Kadan thrust into her again, using his arms to move her body before she managed to coordinate herself and use her legs to increase the friction.

  “You are so tight.” He held her down, his voice barely understandable. “Are you okay?”

  She thought she nodded.

  “It’s like our first time,” he whispered. “Remember?”

  Hollis couldn’t answer, couldn’t think as she blindly bucked against him, feeling the pressure shoot up through her body and explode in larger and larger ripples that swamped her in seconds.

  Dimly, she could hear herself crying out and she clutched at him, digging in nails as she convulsed against him. Her legs lost all coordination, but she tried to keep up as he continued to thrust, which brought more and more pleasure pounding over and through her as if she were caught up in a series of the Pacific’s waves where she could never quite get her feet under her, but she didn’t care.

  Another orgasm rolled over her.

  “You are so amazing.” He breathed against her mouth. “Lean back.”

  She did and the change in the angles of his thrusts deepened her pleasure, making her feel like she was flying apart again. She reached over her head in a backbend so she could push off the floor so that she could add to the pressure of Kadan’s thrusts.

  He swore and she arched more deeply into her backbend, feeling him pound into her over and over, and she never wanted it to stop. Never. Ever. Her thighs gripped his hips harder. She felt him shudder against her and she cried out in happiness, but also protest, not wanting the sensations or the intimacy to end.

  She pulled herself up using her core muscles from thousands of pilates and yoga classes and collapsed against him, loving the feeling of his hard chest, sleek and hot from the water still cascading down his body.

  Dimly, she reminded herself about the drought and she should turn off the water; that her grandmother would be charged extra for over water usage, but she couldn’t let go of him.

  His arms wrapped around her and Hollis warmed even more, remembering how he had always held her after they made love, always pulled her close and continued to touch and kiss her, where as many of her friends complained their boyfriends would fall asleep soon after sex or get up and turn on the TV or do something else within minutes of orgasming.

  “Okay?” he murmured against her mouth.

  “More than okay.” She stroked along his dark eyebrows with her thumbs.

  “I didn’t hurt you?”

  She sighed and slid her hands down to his shoulders. “No. I feel awesome.”

  He laughed. “That was an amazing move at the end, but a little unfair.”

  “How so?”

  “I was hanging on, had a lot of power left, but you did that circus move, and I was gone. Crazy gone and couldn’t be in you fast or deep enough.”

  She laughed. Pleased. She loved him like this. Would do anything if it could be like this more. That he’d feel totally hers. She felt a prick in her heart, but pushed the pain and doubt away.

  “Yoga,” she said, playing with his hair. His hair was so sexy. When he used to lean over her in bed and his hair would brush her face or her breasts, she would get so wet so instantly. “You should try a class when you’re better.”

  He laughed and held her tightly against him. “Never. I would get arrested,” he said. “You’d do one move, one downward dog or whatever it’s called, and I’d be on you in a second.”

  “Mmmmmmm.” She sighed against his chest. She could still feel him inside of her. Still feel the shudders gripping him. “That’s a lovely image.”

  “Me taking you from behind in public or me being in jail.”

  “Very funny. The first. But not in public.”

  “Not like that stopped you before.”

  “That was you,” she said, the memory of him pressing her against the outside wall of Preacher’s late one night near closing when she’d come home from medical school and had wanted to surprise him.

  “Your fault.” He even managed to sound virtuous. “I’d been trying to get you out of there for half an hour, but no, you had to dance, so not my bad. I’m very visual.”

  “That’s not all you are.” She teased back, tensing her muscles in her vagina.

  He responded immediately, hissing in a breath.

  “God, Hollis.” He breathed, and she felt the change in him immediately.

  He leaned his head against hers. Drew in a shaky breath and shook his head. His withdrawal was tangible, but she didn’t know what she’d done or said that was wrong. Kadan reached behind him and turned off the water.

  “Okay,” was all he said.

  But Hollis felt the distance like a knife.

  “It’s green.” He eyed the drink suspiciously.

  “Would you have preferred princess pink?” Hollis walked across the room, wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts and she held out the vivid green smoothie. “It’s really good for you. Powerful antioxidants. Lots of vitamins. It will help your immune system and cellular regeneration.”

  “You sound like a sci-fi show,” he said, but he’d stopped looking at the drink and instead was completely focused on her bare, slender thighs as she walked toward him.

  He remembered how they’d felt in his hands when she’d straddled him. He could already feel himself coming back to life, no bright, green drink necessary.

  “What?” She stood next to the bed, one eyebrow raised, teasing him. “You only drink strawberry and banana smoothies?”

  He reached out and stroked the back of her leg, watching her amazing amber eyes turn even more golden.

  “If I drink this, what will you do for me?”

  “What would you like?” she asked, her voice breaking.

  He slid his fingers between her legs and teased her soft curls, reveling in the moist heat and how responsive she was. She shifted, giving him better access. He felt a little rush of liquid coat his fingers. To hell with the smoothie, he was thirsty for something else. His hand cupped her ass and urged her closer.

  “Mmmmmmmmm.” He breathed against her core. “I want to be inside you again. Get me hard.” Although he was more than half way there.

  “Drink.”

  He took the glass from her, his body tense with anticipation as she sank down on the foot of the bed, her full, dark pink lips poised over his cock.

  “You have to drink,” she said softly, her breath tickled him so his erection strained and jumped.

  “I will if you will.” He tried to push himself in her mouth.

  She licked around the head, smiled at him. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

  She was going to kill him. Kill him. Barely aware of the drink, he tipped it between his lips just as she slid all of him into her hot mouth. Kadan groaned and helplessly began to thrust against her tight mouth.

  “Drink,” she said and paused expectantly.

  He took another sip, watching her as she worked him. He’d forgotten how intensely concentrated she was during sex, how much she always seemed to enjoy pleasuring him like this. No lights off or cursory duty sucking for Hollis. She’d always been all in, focused, experimenting, watching his reactions.

  He felt his body infuse with heat even as chills ran up and down his spine as she hit a particularly sensitive spot.

  “Yes.” He ground out, trying to...

  She gripped his hips. “My turn,” she said sternly. “And finish
the drink or else.”

  He drank it down.

  Hollis smiled. “Thank you,” she said, her smile sensuous, her attention already refocused.

  Her hands cupped his balls as she began a light massage in rhythm with her mouth. He felt boneless but keyed up at the same time. Awash in sensual pleasure, but he wanted to hold her. Feel her body move against his, not just her mouth. He craved more of her. More.

  “I want you to...” He bit out, wanting her on top of him so he could kiss her while she rode him. He needed that connection after so long.

  “My turn.” She looked up at him, her eyes glinting with sensual power, and if it were possible he hardened even more.

  Hollis had always held such sexual power over him. Obsessive maybe. He closed his eyes, not wanting her to be able to read his expression, to know that for him, the desire, the longing was starting all over again, and while he wanted her body more than his next breath, he wanted a lot more than just that with her. He always had, but still had no idea how to get it. She’d always been out of reach.

  Fuck it Stop analyzing. He let her have her way with him just as he always had. He was as predictable as the tide where Hollis was concerned.

  Chapter Nine

  “I still think when the tide’s out, a scooter would work better,” Hollis said. “The crutches suck in the sand.” She looked over at him as he swung himself another long stride. “But you’ll never admit that, tough guy.”

  “I think I’ve more than proved my prowess to you over the past twelve hours.”

  Had he ever. They had made love twice more last night before finally falling asleep and before the sky had even begun to turn grey with the dawn, Kadan had woken her up by kissing a path from her breasts to between her legs. She felt so alive this morning, as if every part of her body were in perfect alignment, every nerve, every cell, healthy and communicating.

  She’d already gone for a short, early run and then showered before making breakfast for herself and for Kadan. He’d been so restless this morning, accustomed to a lot of physical activity that he was finding it challenging to stay put. She’d given him some stretching exercises to work on while she’d cooked their breakfast burritos, but much like his claim last night that he could never do yoga with her, the stretching exercise had turned into an entirely different type of exercise.

  And now the beach walk.

  Hollis walked on the other side of him and stared at the rocky end of the cove rather than at the ocean. She thought about her breathing. And she focused on the brush of Kadan’s arm as they walked close together.

  “How are you feeling?” He asked, surprising her.

  “Wonderful.”

  “No problems.”

  She bit her lip. A million problems. But she didn’t want to burden him with anything. She’d always played it cheerful even when she was worried or sad. She hadn’t wanted to give him a reason to look anywhere else, when it was so obvious that he had every opportunity and encouragement to do so. His friends would even send women they’d met at the beach or at the bar or at a restaurant or during a surf lesson, to his house, even when she’d been home from college staying with him.

  “Nothing major,” she said breezily, amazed that she could lie to him so naturally.

  It seemed wrong, but it was a habit. Besides, how could she really explain what a fraud she was? What would happen if she were honest? Let him know she that she was scared. That she was lost. That she had no idea what to do with her life. That she was broke unless she went to her mother or grandmother. Her stomach churned sickly. How would he react? Problems weren’t sexy. Or fun. Women didn’t come to Kadan with problems.

  She stomped down the mad impulse, hearing her mother’s voice drone on critically in her head. “Don’t bore other people with yourself or your problems.” Or the usual, “Remember, you are the least interesting person in the room. Let others talk about themselves. You’ll learn something for once.”

  The silence thrummed between them. Comfortable but expectant. Hollis had to remind herself to breathe.

  “Did you blame me for Holland?”

  While the question seemed to come out of nowhere, really, it had hovered over them for half her life now.

  “You never acted like it, never once, but he was your brother. Your twin. I was with him. You must have at least a little.”

  She looked up into troubled blue eyes. She brushed his loose curls away from his forehead, but the breeze tumbled them back again.

  “You weren’t with him Kadan. He followed you. I heard you arguing with him the night before not to even think about going out. And he always had to push everything, every button so when he showed up, you tried to send him back in.”

  “Too late,” he said. “I thought he’d get scared and get the hell out of there. Those sets were—” He broke off as if remembering. “And then Holland—” Kadan stopped, and Hollis didn’t know what he had been going to say.

  No one had really described Holland’s death to her. She hadn’t asked. She’d been so shocked. Surfers fell off all the time, especially in big storm swells, but they didn’t die. Hardly ever. And the fact that the one death in...she didn’t even know—decades—had been her brother, who’d been swimming and surfing in the ocean since he’d been five or six. It was almost unimaginable. It still seemed impossible. Holland’s death was almost a legend, no maybe myth would be a better word, whispered about, warned about but never mentioned to her. No wonder her mom had felt it necessary to move to a totally different coast.

  Hollis had been in class. Had thought Holland was in geometry instead of trying to prove something to Kadan and the rest of his crew. She closed her eyes. She could still see her brother, thick, wavy blonde hair always falling in his eyes, eyes that had been the same color as hers with the same long, thick, curling eyelashes that made him look so endearingly alert and engaged.

  “There’d been a big storm in Japan,” she said. “It nailed Hawaii. All the coast was so fired up the day before it was supposed to hit. I remember you were so high, so excited. I wanted to skip school to watch you. I wanted to video tape you, but I didn’t because I wanted to keep Holland away. You were worried about him and Zen and Cole getting in the way.”

  Kadan nodded, his eyes looked far away.

  “I just never really understood why you were at the... pier,” she said finally.

  Kadan blew out a big sigh. Didn’t meet her eyes.

  “I just assumed that everyone would be at Trestles.”

  That was where so many of the regulars set up. Where Surfer Magazine shot much of their So Cal footage.

  “That’s why I went to the pier,” Kadan said. “I wanted more space. To try some new moves. To get some different shaped waves to carve. I figured Health would follow me, but that once he got to Trestles, he wouldn’t be able to catch a ride back to the pier. No one was going to be able to give up those beautiful swells. Sorry.” He linked his fingers through hers. “I shouldn’t talk about the waves like that.”

  Hollis squeezed his hand. “I know you tried to stop him, Kadan,” she said softly. “Everyone said you shouted at him to try to go in, that you gave up your spot to try to paddle to him. You missed your set.”

  Kadan cursed. “A set, Hollis. I miss a fuckin’ ride, even if it’s one of the best swells in decades, and you act like I’m a saint.”

  “You dove over and over to try to find him. You got smashed into a piling, too.”

  By then it had been too late. Holland had been dead, sucked out to sea, and they hadn’t found his body until two days later and twenty miles south.

  Other surfers had joined the search, putting themselves at crazy risk, two of them Holland’s best friends.

  “He admired you so much,” she said.

  “Too much. Showing off killed him.”

  “It was the one time he was unlucky,” she said sadly. “But you were a wonderful role model for him. Your work ethic. Your support and advice.”

  “You are too
easy on me.”

  Nothing about Kadan and nothing about losing her brother had been easy. She stared at her toes in the gravely sand and blinked back the tears that refused to obey and spilled out anyway. She wiped at them.

  He stopped walking. Took her by the shoulders.

  “Hey.” He waited until she looked up at him, reluctantly. “You don’t need to hide tears,” he said softly.

  Hollis squeezed her eyes shut on a fresh, hot spurt. He so undid her when he was kind. The life he’d had, being kicked out of his mother’s mobile home time after time whenever she’d have a new boyfriend who didn’t like being reminded that she had a son. All the struggling in school to read, never giving up, working at the surf shops, cleaning out the bathrooms, washing down the rentals, re-waxing, anything to earn money for food and to ride.

  She’d had everything handed to her, and she dropped it, over and over again. And he never had publicly criticized her in front of his friends, made her feel plain, shy, incompetent, too young to be hanging out. He had watched out for her and been kind and ensured that everyone else in his posse had treated her with respect or they had to deal with him.

  And they had. Kadan was no stranger to fights. He went from quiet, easygoing to fierce in a second that would rob her breath. And sometimes scare her. Not many people had messed with him twice. And yet he always treated her with such warmth and tenderness. She touched his cheek. He was so beautiful. Inside and out.

  They walked a little further in the sand. Hollis bent her head, absorbed the rhythmic sound of the ocean. Somehow if she didn’t look at it, it didn’t seem so terrifying. Ironic, really, because the sound of the ocean had always soothed her until a few years ago.

  “I still think about Holland,” she said. “Every day. I wonder what he’d be like now. If we’d still be close. If he... If I would—” She broke off, overwhelmed by the possibilities of how different her life probably would have been if her brother hadn’t been so reckless. So brave. So confident. So full of swagger and a sense of immortality. He’d always been eager to show off. To do something first. To earn his mother and father’s continual adulation, and then the hero worship of his friends and, later, of girls. And, of course, he’d craved and courted Kadan’s attention.