Laguna Beach: A Treasure in Laguna (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Heather Hiestand

  All motion ceased as he realized she might not have any either. Now, she lifted her head.

  “What?”

  “Condom?” he asked in his lowest, most urgent voice. “Tell me you were prepared for this.”

  She panted a little and pressed into his hand. “Yes, I’ve got condoms. I think. From a bachelorette party a few months ago.”

  “Where?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t stop, please. It’s been so long.”

  He grinned. “God, you’re gorgeous when you’re begging.” He put the heel of his palm against her clit and she ground into him, moving her hips in a circle. Holding her in place with his other hand on her bottom, he swooped in for a kiss. She met him hungrily, tangling tongues and groaning. His erection throbbed, but at least he knew there would be a happy ending for both of them. If she could find the condoms.

  Her mouth went slack and she moaned. “Oh, Crowe.” She shuddered, dropping her face against his shoulder again. “God, yes.”

  He rubbed her back in small circles, letting her ride out her orgasm as long as she could. Her legs trembled and she almost went down, but he held her up.

  “Wow, that was one hell of an orgasm,” he said when he thought it was safe to put his other arm around her, too.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she said in a sleepy voice. Her arms draped around his lower back. “I should return the favor.”

  “I’ll never turn down a blow job, but Jenny, honey, I want to be inside you. Deep, deep inside that amazing body. I promise I can beg for it too.”

  Jenny’s eyes lost a little of their post-coital haze. “I didn’t think you were that into me. You didn’t really seem to care the other night.”

  “I’m very into you, but you caught me off guard, that’s all. We’re still figuring it all out, right?”

  “Yes. Given our possible business relationship, do you really think we should be doing this?”

  “Yes,” he said, sounding like a sports announcer. He could not get shut down this close to the home stretch. “Absolutely.”

  “That’s a super stupid question to ask a guy who has a hard-on poking into me, huh.”

  “Funny,” he said. “Very funny.”

  “I could kneel down and suck you off right now,” she said in a singsong voice.

  “Find me a condom. Please, baby,” he begged.

  “Oh, okay.” She wrinkled her nose at him and pushed the shower door aside.

  He watched her grab a towel and swagger out of the bathroom. That orgasm had made her cocky. He liked it.

  Chapter Five

  After turning off the water, Crowe grabbed a towel for himself. This was definitely a girl’s place. No bachelor had towels that were as fluffy or smelled so good. He let his face drop into the scented Egyptian cotton, enjoying the sensation of feeling clean, the anticipation of sex. With Jenny Craft. He needed to take a moment, to realize he was about to achieve an adolescent dream.

  She appeared in the doorway just as he lifted his head from the towel. “You look happy.”

  He recognized the shape of the condom packet in her hand and wondered if she meant the expression on his face or the jut of his erection. “In every way. Are you sure that’s not for novelty purposes only?”

  “It says it’s a Trojan. My friend had the wrappers custom printed for her party, that’s all.”

  “Got it.” He moved toward her, knowing he was offering her the male equivalent of her hip swinging earlier. When he pulled the square from her hand, she didn’t resist him. He set it at the top of her head, where her hairline made a tiny “v” at the tip of her forehead, then slid it down to her nose, her upper lip, her lips, then along her chin, torturing them both.

  She lifted her head, half-closing her eyes, when he traced the packet down her neck, her clavicle, between her breasts. He untucked her towel and it slithered down her body, leaving her as bare as he was.

  “Bedroom,” he said.

  Her eyes opened and her lips smoothed into a sultry smile. She wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him down her tiny hall into a bedroom. It was white and fresh, as clean as they had not been before their shower. A beautiful bouquet of red and yellow flowers was on top of a chest of drawers. All the other surfaces were empty, except for a candle burning on a nightstand.

  “What’s that scent?”

  Her cheeks pinked. “It said ‘sensual’ on the label. It’s some blend.”

  “Were you thinking of me when you bought it?” he asked.

  She flipped her hair off her shoulder. “No, it was another party favor from that bachelorette party. Martie went all out.”

  He pulled back the crisp white quilt that covered her bed and folded it neatly at the base. Even with the air conditioning whirring through the room it was too warm for more than a sheet. “Not a very large bed.”

  “No,” she said, staring at it. “It fit the room.”

  He pulled back the soft microfiber blanket, also white, and folded it over the quilt. “We’ll have to cuddle.”

  She swallowed visibly. “Yes, I suppose we will.”

  He stomped the floor. “Nice thick carpet.”

  She grinned. “Backup plan?”

  “Maybe. If we fall off.” He pulled back the sheet and added it to the end of the bed. Even he could tell she’d purchased really nice sheets. “You like luxury?”

  “At home. I can travel a lot rougher. If you’re worried about the show budget.”

  “I just hope I’m a luxury ride. I’d hate to find out my bedroom skills don’t match this room. I’ve never met a girl who had fresh flowers in her bedroom.”

  “My mother was a florist. It reminds me of her.”

  “She passed away?”

  “When I was fourteen. Breast cancer.”

  “I’m sorry. We had our mother for longer. Cancer got her, too. My sister is studying to be a doctor so she can do cancer research.” He sat down on the bed, knowing he’d better change the subject before they became maudlin. “Is this where you want me? I believe you said something about sucking.”

  “It’s not like you need any encouragement to get hard.” She pulled the condom from his hand. Her fingers shook slightly. Arousal? Fear? Exhaustion?

  “How is your ankle?”

  “Ankle?” She frowned. “Oh yeah. It stopped hurting.”

  He grinned. Must be arousal. She ripped open the packet and leaned over him to roll the condom on. Her hair brushed his face, loose and damp. He’d never seen it down until tonight. This was the private Jenny. A private room, crisp and white, and her hands shaking with lust for him. It didn’t get any better.

  Or so he thought. When she knelt over him and slowly slid the condom into place with gentle fingers before sliding her body down on him, he found what was surely heaven.

  He wrapped his arms around her back and found her mouth with his, arching his back underneath her. They found a rhythm that matched, moving toward each other, gasping with the pleasure of it. The sensations were far too perfect to even try a different position; they were locked into place, mouths fused, arms wrapped, hips moving in perfect counterpoint.

  At the end, when he discovered himself on his back on the bed, his feet still on the floor, her draped over him with her beautiful fire-colored hair half suffocating him, he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there, though his body still shook with the aftershock of his pleasure.

  Gently, he rolled her off of him so he could dispose of the condom, then went to the bathroom to clean up. When he returned, he pulled up the sheet and lay next to her on her guest pillow. It didn’t smell like her. She must stay strictly to one side of the bed.

  “This is perfect,” he murmured.

  “Mmmm.” She rolled over, her face in her pillow.

  He wondered how she could sleep like that. Where did her oxygen come from? He lay on his back, staring up at the dancing pinpoint of candlelight on the ceiling. “I imagined this a million times when I was in college. I didn’t have the imagination in hi
gh school. I just fantasized about your body and your mouth. Speaking of sucking, I must have thought about having your mouth on me a million times. But I have to say, this is better. I’d never have placed you in this pristine room.”

  “Where was I living in your fantasy?”

  “I have no idea. It was a selfish fantasy. You always came to me.”

  She rolled over. “I’d show up in your dorm room and go down on you?”

  “Fraternity,” he said. “I lived in a frat house.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. You have the brotherhood thing down. Of course, you have real brothers too.”

  “It’s good for connections. Networking works wonders. I’m up and down the state looking for investors and possible leads to get the show up and running.”

  “I just know everyone in Laguna Beach. It’s enough for a local businesswoman.”

  Since she was talking now, he moved closer and draped his arm over her waist. He kissed her temple after moving a few locks of hair out of the way. “I’ll be expanding your horizons.”

  “I just went to Coastline Community College. Accounting. And I work a lot of hours. I’m totally fine being in your promo reel, but until the show picks up, you’d probably be better doing your work without me. I don’t have a ton to offer. And bringing me in was Roger Dalton’s idea. You might not end up working with him.”

  His arm tightened around her slim waist. “You don’t like the idea of change much, do you. We’re together now, you and me. We’ll figure it out.”

  She sat up, displacing his arm. “Crowe, I’m flattered, you know I am. I loved going to bed with you. But I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t even know if we’re compatible.”

  He sat up too, all the afterglow gone. “Not compatible? After this?”

  “Oh come on, I’m three years older than you. We spent time together today because of the show. This was a thrill thing, after finding the coin.”

  He shook his head. She kept talking. “We worked off our excitement. You only came in because of my ankle.”

  “Seriously? When I’ve had a crush on you since I was thirteen?” He sounded like a loser—all dreams, no success.

  “You had a crush on an actress. I’m a real person. We aren’t compatible.”

  “How can you say that? We’ve had a great time together.”

  Her words were forced out, staccato-style. “We met five days ago, Crowe. Five days. I don’t even know how much longer you’ll be here. This is more like a fling. There’s no time for a relationship to grow.”

  “Five days is enough to make us exclusive. I’m not proposing, Jenny, I’m saying I want to date you. I’m not interested in anyone else.” She didn’t answer. He was stung by an uncomfortable possibility. “Are you seeing someone else? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that.”

  “No, I’m not,” she said after a pause. “It isn’t like that.”

  “Then tell me. Did I come on too strong? Did you feel like I pressured you into sex?”

  “No, I wanted it. You’re very attractive. But it’s too much.”

  “So I did come on too strong. Okay, I’ve got it. We’ll be casual. I’m sorry. I’m not a creeper. I thought you were feeling it.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “No big deal.” He was suddenly desperate to go. “I know where my clothes are. I’ll see myself out. Your door is self-locking, right?”

  “If you push the thingie.”

  He gathered the shreds of his dignity. “Yep. I’ll push the thingie.” He climbed out of bed on the opposite side, stumbling against something he couldn’t see. His shin had knocked against a chair, maybe, at the small desk on the opposite side of the room. He found the bathroom and switched the light on.

  In the mirror, he saw a rumpled guy, hair sticking out in all directions. She’d left red marks on his neck. He hadn’t felt them. His skin held her scent and his heart felt bruised, raw.

  What a fool. He never should have told her he’d had a crush on her. She thought he was a stalker. Moron. He turned the faucet on and moved the dial to cold, punishing himself. He splashed his face, pricking his skin with sharp, freezing droplets. That should get his head back in the game. In the sex versus coins game, the coins needed to win.

  Jenny heard the water turn on and off. Something clattered. A couple of minutes later, she heard the bathroom door open and close. Must be retrieving his clothing. More door noises. Footsteps in the hallway. Then the front door opened and closed. Crowe had left without saying good-bye. She couldn’t blame him.

  Closing her eyes, she cursed her eternal awkwardness. Why couldn’t she express her nervousness without driving him away? A better-equipped woman could have admitted her fear without ruining a relationship that had scarcely begun.

  She thrust her head back against her pillow, knocking her head against the wall. “I’m such a fool,” she muttered.

  She showered again, full of self-pity and loathing. Tears ran down her face, idiotic for a woman over thirty. Ready for emotional eating, she went into the kitchen to grab her emergency Ben & Jerry’s pint of ice cream. Tonight’s emergency flavor was Cheesecake Brownie. She found a spoon and went to the kitchen table to eat it, still wrapped in her towel.

  When she sat, she discovered a selection of unusual sensations firing below her waist. She’d actually been with a man for the first time in three years. Doing so had left her sex and inner thighs sore. Not enough to be uncomfortable, but it was a reminder of what she had shared with Crowe before her stupidity had sent him off.

  Her cell phone rang, jarring her. She hadn’t realized she had left it in the kitchen. She picked it up, saw it was her friend Madison. “Hello?”

  “Hey Jenny, I hope it isn’t too late to call.”

  “No, what’s up?”

  “I’m trying to drum up warm bodies for a class we’ve got going on tomorrow night at the hotel.”

  Jenny forced herself to listen, to be polite. “What kind of class?”

  “Comedy improv. I know, weird, huh? But the teacher is playing at a comedy club in Irvine tonight so he was in the area, and the general manager at the hotel is a friend of his.”

  Jenny sighed. “I never even heard about it.”

  “I know. We messed up the promotion and the GM is not happy. Can you come?”

  Nothing about the class sounded exciting. “Improv? I’ll be so terrible at it. Without a script I’m hopeless.”

  “No, you’re funny,” Madison protested.

  “So not true. At least, not on purpose. My thoughts come out hopelessly tangled.” She stuck her spoon into her ice cream and pulled out a big chunk of brownie. It tasted good, but Crowe had tasted a heck of a lot better.

  “Then this will be good for you.”

  “Madison,” she moaned. “I’m not in the mood.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I screwed up so bad. I went to bed with someone I’ve only known for a few days and he was all relationship-ho afterward and I blew him off. Not on purpose, but I screwed it up.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He left. I’m buried in ice cream.”

  “Can you call him and apologize?”

  Jenny huffed. “I’d screw up again. I’m hopeless.”

  “You must like him if you went to bed with him.”

  “Obvs. But I doubt he likes me anymore.” She toyed with her spoon.

  “I could invite him to this improv thing. Who is he?”

  “Crowe Erickson.”

  “The treasure hunting hottie? He looks like he’d be fun in bed. All that dark, passionate good looking…” Madison trailed off, her voice throaty.

  Jenny giggled despite her bad mood. “Pregnancy hormones?”

  “Are the worst,” her friend said. “Better go find Josh. He’ll have Crowe’s number.”

  “Don’t call Crowe tonight. He’s editing his promo reel, I think.”

  “I’ll get him there. You can talk in public. It will be all good.”
<
br />   “Sure,” Jenny said, sticking her spoon into the melting ice cream again.

  “Put the ice cream back in the freezer,” Madison ordered. “You do not need to gain a pound for this. You’ll straighten it out.”

  Jenny stuck out her tongue at the phone, but she finished her spoonful of ice cream then tapped the cap back on the pint. “Yes, mama.”

  “What’s the plan for today, boss?” Justin asked, pulling his fancy new Garrett metal detector from the back seat of his truck at nine a.m. on Saturday morning. The expensive land/sea-capable unit was his material contribution to the project.

  “I want to run a grid on the cave,” Crowe said, sweeping out his fingers in front of him. “That coin we found was an 1850 Braided Hair Liberty Head penny. It’s the right time period for Sanchez.”

  “But what’s it worth?” Thor said, unzipping his camcorder pack.

  “Less than thirty dollars, probably. It’s not going to fund us for anything more than a pizza run. It's more of a clue than treasure.” Crowe put his hands on his hips. “Any questions?”

  “Am I shooting footage of you as well? Or only Justin?” Thor asked.

  “I’m going to map the walls after I help you set up the grid, see if I can find any more marks. I’ll call you over if I find something. Otherwise, hang with Justin.” Crowe pulled a canvas crossbody bag with stakes and twine from the truck.

  “Where’s Jenny?” Justin locked his truck.

  Crowe lifted his backpack off the ground. It was heavy with water and energy bars, as well as spare batteries and flashlights. He hefted it onto his back. Thor brought up the rear with his equipment.

  “She’s not going to be a part of this unless the show actually sells,” Crowe explained. “She’s a business owner and there’s nothing in this for her right now. She needs to be at her restaurant.”

  “I thought you were what she was in this for.” Justin opened the gate to the steps leading to the beach.

  “She’s not ready for anything serious, and adding the show in with dating me is more than she can get her head around.” Crowe was grateful for the bit of shade from the trees enclosing either side of the steep staircase. It was a long way down to the sand.