Bad Boy Summer (Bad Boys on Holiday Book 5)

by Sylvia Pierce

  “I… I am. Every night. Every single night I turn off my light, close the door, and climb into my bed hoping that maybe you'll sneak in there later.”

  Ash groaned. The admission was more than he could handle. In one swift move, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, pinning her against the wall, his chest flat against her back.

  “Do you think about me doing this?” He slid his hand down her belly, grazing the top of her bikini bottoms, then dipping inside. Lower, lower, lower still, fingers brushing through the soft hair between her thighs. She parted her legs at his touch, and he dipped even lower, ghosting over her clit. She was so fucking wet for him, so hot.

  “Y-yes,” she stammered.

  “Like this?” he whispered, rubbing her in slow circles. “Touching you, making you so hot and wet you can hardly stand it”

  “Oh my god.” She was breathing hard, arching her hips back against his hand, and holy fuck she felt so good, so right. He licked the shell of her ear, then slid two fingers into her lush, wet pussy.

  “God, you’re still so fucking tight.” Ash could tell she was already close, her head lolling back against his shoulder, the muscles in her legs trembling. Ash slid his fingers in deep, then pulled out slow, pumping in and out until she could barely stand up. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers? Make you come, just like this?”

  “Don’t stop. Please.”

  “Even with all those people upstairs?” he teased.

  “Don’t stop, Ash. Harder.”

  Back then, after their first few times, Pam had wanted it harder and deeper, faster, every position they could think of. She loved it when he talked dirty, when he took control, and the contradiction between her uptight, good-girl personality and her wild nature had driven him mad.

  It was like they’d both known they were running out of time, like they had to make it as intense as possible before the clock struck midnight. It’d made for a wild summer.

  And she still wanted it that way.

  Ash slid his fingers in deeper, harder, his palm pressing against her clit, giving it to her all at once, just how she liked it.

  God, he couldn’t believe how slippery she was. His dick was so hard for her, he almost came just from hearing her say his name. He wanted nothing more than to lay her down at that bed, spread her legs, and bury himself balls deep. To fuck her so hard, so good, she’d have no doubts that she was—and always would be—his.

  Later.

  “You’re still a bad girl,” he whispered, kissing the back of her neck.

  “Ash!” Suddenly she tightened around his fingers, then gasped, writhing against his hand as the orgasm tore through her body. Again she clamped her hands over her mouth, muffling her sweet cries of pleasure as Ash pushed deeper into that sweet pussy, fucking her faster and harder, bringing her to a second orgasm that left her a hot, trembling mess in his arms.

  “Hey! You guys okay down there?” Lizzie’s voice shot down the stairwell like a tidal wave, shaking Ash and Pam out of their daze.

  “Be right there,” he shouted, hoping Lizzie heard him through the door. Nuzzling Pam’s neck, he whispered, “That was just a taste. Just to make sure you don’t get any crazy ideas about going home with boat dick.”

  Pam finally turned around and faced him, her cheeks red, her upper lip glistening with sweat. She smoothed her hands over her hair and adjusted her bathing suit, trying to put herself back together again, to erase the evidence of that orgasm.

  She crouched down to grab her skirt, wrapping herself up extra tight. When she met his gaze again, her eyes were blazing.

  “The only one I’m going home with is you,” she said plainly, her breath hot on his face. “And then we finish this, Asher Burke. Tonight.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was a horrible, terrible, god-awful idea, but once Pam set her mind to something, she saw it through. Her mother had called it obsessive-compulsive, her colleagues over-eager, her bosses ambitious. But for Pam, it was simply how her brain worked: work, school, rearranging her furniture—in Pam’s world, a project started was a project finished.

  Right now, that project happened to be Ash.

  “Ready?” He asked now. After his intimate touch, Ash’s hand on her bare shoulder felt way too hot, way too close. Her legs were still wobbly from that orgasm, and she certainly wasn't ready to face her friends above decks. What if they’d heard her muffled cries? What if Lizzie saw something?

  “Relax, Deeds.” Ash ran his hand down to the small of her back and leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “It's our secret, remember?”

  Pam’s stomach fizzed.

  Nodding, she double checked the ties on her skirt and followed Ash back up the stairs. The water was calm and still, sun glinting on the surface. Pam squinted at the bright light, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

  Lizzie and the guys were playing cards. Someone had hooked up an iPod, and Lizzie bobbed her head, mouthing the lyrics to an old Stones tune as she rearranged the cards in her hand. Luke and Decker were sharing a bag of tortilla chips, half-spent bowls of guacamole and salsa on the table between them.

  Pam relaxed. No one suspected a thing.

  And what was there to suspect? Whatever was happening between her and Ash was obviously temporary. It was just an old itch that needed to be scratched. They just had to get it out of their systems, that’s all. Of course they were still attracted to each other—it was perfectly normal. They’d been close friends, lovers, and they hadn’t seen each other in years. Now they were adults, both single, reunited in the very place they’d shared their most intimate, intense summer. How could they not be curious?

  One night together, and they could get rid of all this crazy sexual tension and get back to the tasks at hand. Like her thesis. Like his remodel. Like going on with their respective—and completely opposite, totally incompatible—lives.

  Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, girl…

  Ignoring the voice of reason, Pam took the seat next to Lizzie, trying not to stare at Ash as he bent over to retrieve a beer from the cooler, the muscles in his back and shoulders rippling with the movement. Decker smiled at her, but he’d grown oddly silent.

  “Feeling better?" Lizzie bumped her shoulder against Pam’s, and Pam smiled, grateful for the distraction.

  “Much.” She ate a few bites of chips and guac, laughed at the guys’ jokes, whispered poker strategy to Liz, but her mind was singularly focused on Ash—on the covert smiles he was giving her, on how he’d made her feel, on what they’d do later when they were finally, blissfully alone. She was still hot and wet, her insides wound tight as a drum.

  “Better put your hat back on, Deeds,” Ash said. When she met his eyes, he winked. “Looks like you got a little color on those cheeks today.”

  “Thanks for your concern.” She grabbed the hat off the bench and yanked it over her head. “Maybe you should put on a shirt.”

  Ash shrugged, his smirk maddening. “I like the heat.”

  Pam pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes, hoping no one else saw the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

  Me, too.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Midnight. Back deck. No refunds, substitutions, or exchanges.

  Those were the arrangements Ash and Pam had made, and now—hours after the boat ride and dinner at the Beachcomber and late-night laughs with Lizzie and a failed attempt at re-reading Adam Smith’s The Wealth of Nations—Pam stood in the hallway outside her bedroom door, heart banging in her chest.

  I can’t believe I’m actually going through with this…

  She looked again at the photograph hanging on the wall, Ash and Liz posing in front of the sandcastle. Their relationship was so easy back then, so uncomplicated. A brother and a sister, a best friend, the three of them inseparable. No secrets.

  Now, it was anything but simple.

  Pam closed her eyes, guilt prickling her stomach. For a minute, she considered turning right instead
of left, heading into Lizzie's room and confessing everything. Everything that ever happened between her and Ash. Everything that was about to happen now.

  But that was ridiculous. Maybe if she and Ash were in an actual relationship… but they weren't. They never were, and they never would be. They’d been close friends, then secret lovers, and then he’d disappeared without a word.

  Now, they were back under the same roof—but that didn’t change anything. Whatever was going on between them had a shelf life of exactly one night. Pam was absolutely clear on that.

  The door to her right was closed, Lizzie's soft snoring audible from the other side.

  With renewed determination, Pam turned left and headed down the hallway, her bare feet grinding the ever-present sand into the hardwood floor. She wore nothing but a loose T-shirt and panties, and the ocean breeze that drifted in through the open windows kissed her bare thighs, casting her skin in goose bumps.

  She found Ash on the deck, leaning forward against the railing, staring out at the sea. The water was calm tonight, smooth and black beneath a thin crescent moon. She couldn't make out his features in the darkness—just the silhouette of his broad shoulders, the smooth lines of his torso tapering down to a trim waist.

  Her thighs clenched, imagining how it would feel to wrap her legs around those hips…

  “You're late,” Ash said softly, sensing her approach.

  “Nah. You're just early." Pam smiled and leaned forward on the railing next to him, their bare arms brushing. The contact made her shiver, though she was anything but cold.

  Without turning to look at her, Ash said, “Wasn't sure you'd show.”

  “We made a deal. No refunds or exchanges, remember?” Pam let out a nervous laugh, her stomach fizzy with anticipation. Neither the darkness nor the comforting murmur of the ocean calmed her nerves.

  The fact that Ash still hadn’t turned to look at her wasn’t helping matters. Earlier today on the boat, Pam had been spontaneously swept up in the tide of his seductive touch. There was no thinking, no deciding—it just happened. All through dinner, she could barely sit still, every muscle in her body coiled tight in anticipation of this moment. But now that it was here, now that Ash was standing beside her in the moonlight wearing nothing but a pair of dark gray sweat shorts that hung low on his hips, she didn't know how they were supposed to start this thing.

  Her brain kicked into analysis mode, desperate to solve the problem. He’d said he’d pick up condoms at the convenience store down the shore—had he remembered? Would he make the first move, or was he waiting for her? Should she make a joke? Grab his hand? Do something sexy to get his attention? Were they going to talk first, lay down some parameters? Or just get right to it?

  Why hadn’t they figured all this out ahead of time?

  Pam bit her lip, and a trickle of sweat slipped down between her shoulder blades, making her shiver again—this time for all the wrong reasons. She was about to change her mind, call it a night, chalk the whole thing up to a momentary lapse in judgment. But then Ash finally turned to face her, his eyes dark with raw, animal desire that made her stomach swoop.

  He slid his fingers beneath her jaw and tipped her face toward his, the rough pad of his thumb brushing across her lips. He searched her eyes, then his gaze swept down to her mouth.

  Pam's breath caught in her throat.

  “I should’ve kept in touch," he said, still staring at her mouth. “Thought about picking up that phone a hundred times. But I—”

  “Shh.” Pam pressed her fingers to his lips, shaking her head. There had been so many times during the last ten years when she’d wished for this conversation, played it out in her mind a thousand different ways. But now that he’d brought it up—tonight, of all nights—she didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to dig up all those old emotions and doubts and questions. All she wanted to do now was kiss him. Feel him inside her. Get this burning need out of her system so they could go back to being friends. “That's all in the past, like you said. No point rehashing it.”

  A soft breeze ruffled her hair, blowing it into her mouth. Ash swept the curls out of her face, fisting her hair at the base of her skull. With his thumb, he stroked the back of her neck, just where she liked it.

  Pam closed her eyes and whispered his name, a faint sigh on the night breeze, and then his mouth closed on hers, capturing her in a kiss she felt all the way down to her bare toes. She parted her lips, tongue sliding out to meet his as he deepened their kiss with hot, silky strokes.

  Her body was electric, a live wire sizzling beneath his touch, at once familiar and strange. She looped her arms around his neck, trying not to tremble as Ash slid his hands under the hem of her shirt, gliding over her hips and waist, her rib cage, the bottom curve of her breasts. Strong, calloused fingers scraped across her nipples, and the sensitive buds tightened, sending a rush of desire to her core.

  “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Ash asked, his voice deep and rough, breath hot on her lips.

  Pam moaned softly, leaning into his body, and in an instant she knew exactly what she’d done to him. He was rock hard for her, his full length pressing eagerly against her belly.

  She slid her fingers inside the waistband of his shorts, skimming the hot, smooth tip of his cock, desperate to touch him.

  A low growl escaped Ash’s mouth, but then he grabbed her hand, stopping her from going any lower. “Not here.”

  He opened the sliding door and swiped the blanket off the back of the living room couch, then nodded for her to follow him down to the beach. Even at night, the sand was still warm, soft and familiar on Pam's bare feet. With every step, a forbidden thrill raced through her body.

  Close to the shore, but out of view from the house, Ash spread the blanket out in the sand.

  “The blanket is a nice touch,” she teased.

  Ash gave her a cocky grin. “You think I’d forget rule number four?”

  “Rule number five. Four is no doing it in the truck.”

  “Hmm. Can’t promise you we won’t break that one again.”

  Heat flared in her chest, but Pam ignored it, even as he slid his hands into her hair, tilting her face up toward his. His grin was cocky and confident, no room for argument.

  “This is a one-time deal,” she said.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Nothing to see. One night only, that’s the rule. Take it or leave it.”

  “Oh, I’ll take it, Deeds. Don’t you worry about that.” He leaned in close, nipping her bottom lip. In a sexy whisper that made her thighs clench, he said, “But after what I’m about to do to you, you won’t wanna stop at just one.”

  Ash pulled Pam against his chest, and together they toppled onto the blanket, Pam landing on top of him as he threaded his hands into her hair. Between her thighs, she felt the press of him against her damp panties, thick and urgent.

  “That’s better,” he said, pulling her mouth to his in a possessive, demanding kiss that set her whole body on fire. She felt it all the way down to her toes, Ash’s mouth devouring her, tasting her, marking her as his and his alone.

  Pam couldn’t breathe, but it didn’t matter. All she wanted now—all she needed—was Ash. His hands in her hair. His tongue sliding into her mouth. His rock hard body solid and warm beneath her as the tide whispered against the shore, nipping at their bare feet.

  The heat between them was making her wet and needy, and if she didn't come soon, she might explode.

  Sliding his hands around the curves of her ass, Ash arched his hips, grinding against her, making her pussy throb with need. She was desperate for more—more friction, more contact, more heat, more Ash.

  “Naked,” she panted. “We need to be naked.”

  Pam leaned back and straddled him, his body deliciously warm between her thighs. She stripped off her shirt, tossing it aside. Ash’s eyes went wide in the pale moonlight, drinking in her every curve. The reverent way he was looking at her made Pam melt inside, bu
t she didn't come out here to be revered. She came out here to be touched. Kissed.

  Fucked.

  Ash ran his hands over her breasts, rolling her aching nipples between his fingers, squeezing and tugging as she rolled her hips against him. The salty ocean mist was cool and damp on her skin, but Pam was anything but chilly.

  “You feel so fucking amazing,” he said. “Fuck, Pamela. I can’t stop touching you.”

  “Don’t stop,” she moaned, thrilled at the sound of her full name on his lips.

  Everything about the moment was another time machine—the soft sighs of the ocean, the scratchy wool blanket already covered in sand, the taste and feel of his breath, the clean crisp scent of his skin—bringing her right back to their stolen nights all those years ago. Suddenly she was eighteen again, making love to the man she’d loved her entire life, her stomach full of butterflies at his every touch, heart banging against her ribs, the salty breeze tangling her hair as their bodies came together.

  But she wasn’t eighteen. She was twenty-eight, and Ash was no longer the man she’d loved so fiercely. He was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger to her now— one that felt every bit as right as before, but for the warnings in her head.

  Don’t you dare fall for him. This is a fling. One night. Fun and done.

  Off in the distance, a ship sounded its foghorn, a lonely cry into the night that made Pam ache for reasons she couldn’t explain.

  “Come back to me, Pamela,” Ash whispered, and when Pam met his eyes, she saw a seriousness there so intense, so deep, it scared the hell out of her.

  Desperate to break away from that gaze, she dropped to her elbows and kissed him, still rocking her hips against his hard length, everything in her aching for release.

  Ash wrapped his strong arms around her back, then flipped her so that he was once again on top, just how he liked it. The full weight of his body felt delicious and warm and right, and wordlessly she parted her thighs, making room for him. He rocked against her clit, grinding hard, and Pam cried out in pleasure, resenting her panties and his shorts and even the air that came between them.