Wrecked (Sons of San Clemente Book 2)

by Sinclair Jayne

  She handed him the drink. “Can I join you?”

  “You never have to ask,” Kadan patted the chair next to him. He tipped his cup up, like he was toasting. “So is my blood going to bubble with acid after I drink this coffee?” He asked conversationally. “My life will shorten by three minutes?”

  Hollis lowered herself down into the chair and slid her toe along the line of the deck. Her toenails were bare. She’d given up pedicures a long time ago. Not a big deal in Seattle, but at the beach in So Cal, she felt nongroomed. Unfeminine. She crossed her legs lotus style, feet tucked on her thighs.

  “Three and a half, actually.” She deadpanned. Then she sighed. “You’ve been pretty cool about it.” She cocked her head and looked at him. “You haven’t complained about no nachos or burgers or fries. Or maybe your diet’s changed a lot in the past few years.”

  “No.” He smiled. “I’m not going to complain because you’ve been taking care of me. No one’s ever done that before.”

  Her breath caught in her throat with that smile. It was so intimate. And then his words registered.

  “I know you were on your own a lot as a teenager,” she said. “But surely girlfriends and—” She broke off, not really wanting to hear his answer.

  “Only woman I’ve lived with, duchess, was you when you were on breaks from school and I was in between competitions. You used to look up different recipes and experiment with cooking, always looking at nutritional values. When I was with you was the only time I’ve ever felt like I had what people would think of as a home.”

  Hollis had to blink back tears. He was so brutally honest. So strong with himself that he could be vulnerable with her.

  “When it’s like this, just us, I never know why it didn’t work,” she confessed in a whisper.

  He took her hand, turned it over and traced a circle on her hand.

  His smile turned bitter. “It was rarely just us, for starters.”

  She tried to pull her hand away, but he kept it.

  “I don’t know why you’re back, Hollis. I know you don’t want to talk about it.” He rubbed her hand against his cheek and his day old scruff shot shivers of desire through her body. “I wish I could count on you staying, but I can’t because we have a shit load of history, and I’m not a mind reader. You’re gonna have to talk to me.”

  Her heart thudded. Talks were never good. Talks were when you got fired or your boyfriend broke up with you. Well, she lifted her chin and forced herself to meet his gaze. He couldn’t break up with her. They weren’t a couple. And she wasn’t a young girl who thought love lasted forever.

  “Aren’t you reversing our roles?” She tried to play it light. “I thought women were supposed to want to talk and men just grunted and asked for the remote.”

  “Must be the smoothies you keep making me. You’re feminizing me.”

  Hollis looked him over. He was so masculine, the strong jaw, firm lips, cut muscles, long, lean body, deep voice. She found it impossible to look away. She let her hand press high against his chest in the V of his T-shirt so she could feel the heat and texture of his skin.

  “I think your masculinity is safe from my smoothie meddling.”

  “I don’t know.” He mused. “I’ve had more herbal tea since you walked in my door than I have in my entire life.”

  “I brought you coffee today,” she said leaning forward so she could press her lips against his throat. “So you can keep your masculine edge.”

  “Is that what I have?” He murmured as her tongue traced the hollow of his clavicle. “Just an edge.”

  He pulled her hair out of her high ponytail and sighed as it swished around him.

  “I thought we were going to talk.” She breathed.

  He groaned. “Yes, talk.”

  “Go ahead.” She encouraged.

  She anchored one hand against his shoulder so she could push herself up and over enough so she had a straight shot to his lips.

  She traced his mouth with he tongue, making sure that her breasts brushed against his chest.

  “You aren’t wearing a bra.”

  “Mmmmmmm, you should probably check.”

  “I always loved that about you.” He bit out as his hand dipped inside the low neck of her tank. “That I could touch whenever I wanted. Wherever. You are so perfect.”

  Hollis laughed. She was miles from perfect. Still, she let her other hand drift lower, pleased he was already getting hard. She loved the feel of him in her hand, in her mouth, in her body. She could feel the rush of heat between her thighs.

  “I can’t decide if you are trying to distract me from having a conversation or drinking my coffee.”

  She slipped her hand under his T-shirt so she could touch his skin.

  “I meant to behave. I really thought about it,” she told him. “But I love touching you,” she said, knowing that this couldn’t and wouldn’t last, so instead she kissed her way along his strong jaw and up to his lips.

  His hand snaked out around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She sighed, content, and melded into his body. She’d always loved this position, sitting on his lap, wrapped around his body, kissing, touching. Time just slipped away, became almost circular, never ending as they just got lost in each other. He began to kiss her, opening his mouth and letting her inside. Hollis braced herself on the arms of the chair so she could get a better angle to deepen the kiss. He lifted her up and with one hand tugged down her capris until she kicked them off, leaving her in nothing but teal colored boy short style panties. She rubbed against him.

  “You like being on top,” he said.

  “A lot.”

  He stilled her hips. “I can’t remember if you can see this deck from the other houses.”

  “What?” She was dazed “Who cares?”

  “There could be fifteen to twenty people around there most days.” He tangled his hands in her hair and forced her to face him. “And this part of the beach still gets a lot of tourist traffic. I don’t think we need to give them a show.”

  “When did you become so conservative?” She laughed and brought his hand to her core.

  He hissed in a breath, his fingers instinctively playing with her through her panties. “You are so ready.” He groaned.

  She suggestively moved against him.

  “You, too.”

  “Hollis, I don’t have...” She swallowed the rest of his sentence with a kiss.

  “I want you right now,” she said, feeling the familiar burn of desire flame through her body.

  Her hands had already released him from his shorts, encircled him. And she began a hard stroke. His head fell back and he groaned, the grooves around his mouth deep with sensual tension.

  She began to peel off her panties.

  He stilled her hands. “Not here, where anyone could see us, and I don’t have a...”

  “Sex tapes would only enhance your career,” she said cheekily.

  “But not with you.” He looked so serious.

  Hollis scrambled off his lap. She balled her hands to keep from slapping him. She wanted to. She really did.

  “Oh, who gets to be the star in that show?”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you should know it.” He swore, adjusted his shorts, and glared at her. “I am so not going there again with you.”

  “I wasn’t going anywhere.” Anger warred with hurt inside her.

  He’d rejected her. Kadan had never once turned her down. Never. Ever. She was so stupid. She always lost her mind around him. Gave herself up to him, and he didn’t even want her. She wanted to scream and cry and run far, far away, but she grabbed for anger.

  “So you can initiate not me?”

  “No, initiate away. I just want it to be for the right reasons. And not when some idiot can walk down the beach taking selfies and get a good shot of us.”

  “Who gets to decide the right reason for initiating sex?” She pulled on her capris jerkily. “And you took these off, not me.”

 
“I want us to make love.” He emphasized the two words making her feel even stupider and cheaper than ever. “Because we want to, not because you are feeling scared or defensive.”

  “That was not scared or defensive.” Even she knew she was lying. “It was desire.”

  “I scared you this morning. With the ocean. Then you were mad because I brought up our past. We did have problems, Hollis, that we never dealt with. We need to deal with them so we can move on.”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. Why was he bringing up everything now? He wanted to get rid of her. Move on. All the problems were ones he’d made with his crazy career that had him chasing waves and weather patterns all over the globe, and his ten thousand friends and fans who all wanted to buy him a beer, and the constant flow of women who wanted to have sex with a surf legend.

  “Talk,” he said.

  “About what?”

  “What are you thinking right now? I can practically see your brain whizzing.”

  “What happened to you? You’re all into talking now. Who changed you?”

  She could tell she’d scored a hit. A brief flash of irritation, which he quickly swept away as it if had never been. He leaned back in his chair and picked up his latte. He actually had the nerve to take a drink.

  “Delicious.” It was a taunt.

  It took all of her self-control not to knock it out of his hand. He smiled as if he could tell she was really pissed. If it hadn’t cost more than five bucks, that beautiful grin would have caused her to knock it out of his hand.

  “Why does it have to be a who?” he asked. “Perhaps I’ve just matured with time.”

  “And injury.” She snapped, regretting it even as she said it.

  “That, too.”

  She pressed her lips together and spun away, then back again, unsure what she wanted: to salvage or wreck this situation with Kadan.

  “Is it bad?” She finally asked, arms crossed tight under her breasts. “Really bad? Career ending bad this time?”

  “Maybe.”

  She sucked in a breath. Honest. She couldn’t imagine Kadan not on top of the waves, on top of his world, his sport. He blurred in front of her, and her knees went weak. She sank down on the deck.

  “No.” She shook her head. “You’ll heal. You always do.”

  “Yeah, I’ll heal,” he said. “And I’ll always surf. It’s who I am, but I don’t know if I can compete again. Not really compete. And if I don’t compete, I’ll lose my endorsement deals.”

  He took a long sip and then stared at her. “And I had a big one I was about to sign, which is one of the reasons I’m here ‘hiding on my own,’ as you so expressively put it.

  His voice was calm, but she knew Kadan. Knew he worked his ass off to stay on top.

  “You won’t lose it.” She scrambled up. “You’re strong. You’ve got more willpower and discipline in you in one day than most people have in a lifetime. Remember how hard you worked to learn to read? To graduate? Remember how hard you studied finance and taking the money management classes so you didn’t waste all your earnings, so you wouldn’t end up broke like so many others? How hard you work each day to stay in shape? You just need to do a lot of PT and strength-training, and I can help you with extra PT so nothing calcifies and the nutrition and the—” She broke off, seeing his closed off face as a no.

  “Hollis, I’m happy you’re here. I want you here. With me, but I don’t want it because you don’t know what else to do with yourself, or you’re just hanging out until your next stint in grad school.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Although she was afraid she did.

  “I want you to be here because you want to be with me.”

  “I do.” Even she heard the hesitation.

  He looked skeptical. “I want you to be with me because you want to stay with me. To make a life with me.”

  It was hard to breathe. What did he mean? What was he asking?

  She thought she was holding her own against his scrutiny, but he finally shook his head.

  “You aren’t willing to be honest.”

  Her eyes flared wide. “You’re lecturing me about honesty.”

  “See? You’re always defensive. That’s not a position of strength. And you still think I slept with other women while we were together. No, not slept.” He corrected sarcastically. “Had sex with. Constantly.”

  She flinched, but had to go there. Again. “You didn’t?”

  His expression was one of extreme distaste. “No.’

  “Really?”

  His face closed off even more. Those statues on Easter Island were more motivated to talk. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to let it go.

  “Never?”

  “Christ.” In his chair, he turned away from her. The plane of his cheek, the tendons in his neck, even the line of his back screamed tension and a pissed-off-ness that should have shut her up, but Hollis always had to dig herself deeper.

  “Never once when we were together. Not traveling? Not on the circuit? Not while crashing at a friend’s? Not while I was back at school?”

  “Not in a box. Not with a fox.” He quoted a line from a Dr. Seuss book. “I did not have sex with any other women while we were together, and I am never ever saying that again. Ever.” His voice was low and mean. “I shouldn’t have to. It still pisses me off how little you trusted me. How little you trust me still. Forget this shit. It sucks.”

  He stood up fast, using his arms and landing on his good leg. His face was lined in pain.

  “Here, let me help.” She rushed forward.

  He held out a hand to ward her off. His eyes were tightly shut. “No. It’s not that. It’s you. It’s us. It’s my stupid ankle and my foot and everything else falling apart. I’m falling apart. Inside. Outside. It’s not just my ankle and foot. It’s my knees and hips.” He drew in a deep breath.

  Hollis could see he was vibrating with barely leashed tension.

  “What do you need?” She whispered.

  He laughed. “To not have to deal with these accusations ever again. Again and again.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “To not have to watch you and guess when you’re going to walk out the door again. It’s fucking ironic. I was practically the only surfer on the circuit who was faithful and you were the only one who didn’t trust me an inch. The other girlfriend’s and wives had blind faith. That’s how stupid I am,” he said. “Fuck it. I need to surf. To run. To swim. I can’t sit another second.”

  “No.” She rung her hands together, trying to think, trying to wrap her head around the fact that she was starting to believe he hadn’t cheated and that she’d ruined everything with her constant fears.

  She felt shredded inside, but she focused on what she could do now. The inaction must be killing him. He thrived on action, on speed. And she’d been the one to bring up the past. To accuse him again.

  “We could go for a drive,” she said softly. “Maybe on Ortega Highway I could get some speed up.”

  She wasn’t sure she could afford the gas, but she didn’t care. She’d drive him anywhere.

  “We could crank the music. Lincoln Park. Black Keys. Whatever you want.”

  That was what she still did when the walls closed in and her body felt like nothing fit together and her head felt like it would explode if she didn’t get out of it. He hesitated so long she thought he’d say no. That maybe he’d start drinking to take the edge off or blur the lines totally.

  “We’ll take my car. It’s at my house.” He drained his latte. “Let’s drive to the desert. Probably can’t manage a hike to Palm Canyon, but what the fuck? It’s something.”

  She nodded. Anything.

  He tossed the cup across the deck where it neatly fell into the recycling bin. “I’ll pay the ticket.”

  Hollis laughed. “That’s assuming the cop catches me.”

  He touched the corner of her smile where it began to disappear under his scrutiny and her uncertainty.

  “Yeah,” he smiled,
but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d have to tell him good luck with that, buddy.”

  There hadn’t been a ticket. Yes, Hollis had been pulled over, but the officer had been a surfer, and his two sons huge fans of Kadan. Instead, they took a photo and Kadan had signed two autographs.

  “See, not everyone wants their breasts signed,” he’d teased her.

  Hollis had forgotten how easy Kadan was to hang out with. He could be quiet or chat. She’d headed, almost automatically, to Anza Borrego, as it was one of their favorite places to hike, but since Kadan couldn’t hike the Palm Desert Trail or any other trail safely with the crutches, instead she’d gone over the mountain and dropped into Palm Desert, which was a much more upscale town but still surrounded by natural beauty. There was a desert preserve and she thought they could navigate the wide paths to look at the plants and rescue wild life.

  They’d lunched outside on a patio surrounded by blooms of bougainvillea and birds of paradise. They’d walked down the main shopping area and had even indulged in frozen sorbet, with Kadan looking at all the yogurt flavors and speculating how much they would close down his arteries or cause cancer to crawl through his body on contact.

  “You could have had yogurt,” she said as they walked out, Hollis carrying the towering swirl of peach and watermelon frozen sorbet.

  “I’ve heard dairy’s a killer,” he said. “Much more practical to share since I have no free hands.”

  “We could sit.”

  “Feels good to walk,” he said. “I never want to live away from the ocean, but having a long, flat surface to walk on feels good right about now.”

  So they’d walked and window-shopped. Hollis held out the spoonful of sorbet and fed him, watching his lips wrap around the spoon and the long, tan column of his throat move when he swallowed.

  “You’re not eating.” He commented.

  She flushed a little, realizing she’d been getting turned on watching him eat and with feeding him. Everything about him turned her on but sharing such an intimate moment, just the two of them, created the illusion they were a couple, in love, and they did more together than just lose themselves in each other’s bodies. Although she wished she could lose herself in his body now.