WILD OPEN HEARTS: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy

by Nolan, Kathryn

  “Luna,” Beck said, scraping those teeth against my neck.

  “Yes, Beck?” I let out a long sigh, shivering.

  “Since this is our first date, I’m not going to fuck you.” He closed his teeth around my throat. Bit hard. A mark of possession.

  I loved it.

  “Oh… okay,” I said, voice shaking. I was reaching the point where coherent speech was no longer possible.

  “I’m a gentleman.”

  “Bullshit.”

  His chest rumbled with laughter—but he rolled his hips expertly and my head fell back at the intense sensation.

  “Oh, god, okay, I take it back.”

  “I’m a gentleman, which means I won’t fuck you, sweetheart. But I am going to make you come right now.” Another roll. “If that’s what you want?” He paused, drew my chin down so we could lock eyes. “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Perfect,” he said, nipping my lip. “Because I’ll make you come just like this.”

  “Yes, yes,” I sobbed. He was rolling his hips, thrusting up, a rhythm maddeningly slow, gloriously perfect. Our bodies writhed together like we’d been born doing this, dry-fucking each other on the back of a motorcycle. It would have been filthy—it was filthy—but it was also such a graceful expression of human lust I couldn’t stand it. I gripped his thick hair and crashed my mouth onto his, grinding hard right where I needed it. Beck squeezed my flesh, spread my ass cheeks, kept me in place as our tongues danced.

  I grasped the ends of my sweatshirt and tossed it over my head. His gaze competed for the night air in heat-levels, and both felt sultry, velvety. Off went my sports bra, because suddenly I needed to be bare-breasted in front of this hungry man.

  “Luna,” Beck bit out. He pressed our foreheads together, admiring my half-naked form. “Can I touch you there?”

  “Please,” I said softly, kissing his hair. I could feel his breath on my nipples, his rough palms skating up my ribcage. When they landed on my breasts it was almost too much sensation—I was still grinding myself shamelessly on his cock, and now his thumbs were stroking my skin, pebbling my nipples as he peered at me with a look of abject wonder.

  “I want you to keep grinding on me,” Beck said firmly, “and I want you to listen to every fantasy I’ve had about you since the day we fucking met.”

  “I thought…” I sighed, “I thought you weren’t good with words, Mr. Mason.”

  Another bite—sharper this time. “Call it inspiration.”

  I smiled a little, leaned back on the handlebars to give him a shameless show of my hips working over his body. “Tell me.”

  He leaned forward, sucked my breast into his mouth with a greedy groan. “Every night, I fuck my fist and take you in a million different ways, sweetheart.” His fingers tangled in the ends of my long hair, giving me a slow, gentle pull until my breasts arched fully into his face. He licked his tongue along my cleavage, lapping at the drop of sweat there. “I fuck you filthy and fast. Slow and long. Hard.” Beck gave me a particularly intense thrust and I had to muffle a cry. “I’ve bent you over this bike, eaten your pussy on my kitchen table. Taken you in my shower again and again and again.”

  “The… the shower?” I gasped. That was a special fantasy of mine. “More. Tell me more.”

  Beck’s hot mouth moved to my other breast, tasting me like a dessert he’d waited a lifetime to savor. His tongue flattened, stroked, while his cock kept pressing at my clit. “All that hot water, Luna. All that steam. Your naked body against glass while I fuck you from behind in the spray.”

  There was a tightening at the base of my spine, my body expanding and contracting with every dirty word out of his mouth. “Can you picture me there, Luna? Your face pressed to the wall while I slide inside you?”

  Oh, I could. Beck would stretch me, and there’d be a bite of pain followed by the sweetest friction in the entire world.

  “You would feel like paradise,” he said, grinding me roughly now.

  Getting me there, close, close, close. I was so out of my mind I had to bury my face in his neck and sob.

  “I think about fucking you in your office.”

  “I want… I want that, Beck,” I mumbled, reaching a precipice, racing towards it. I was grinding on Beck Mason on his motorcycle, mindless with it, while he muttered sex fantasies into my ear.

  “Can you picture me there, under your desk?”

  I sobbed a yes.

  “Don’t you think a woman like you deserves to have a man on his knees with his mouth between her legs?”

  “So close…” I chanted. “Oh, god. It’s too good.”

  “Nothing’s too good for you, Luna,” he praised. “Fuck me, sweetheart. Take what you deserve.”

  He gripped my cheeks and slammed our mouths together. It was the kind of kiss that obliterated your senses. It sent stars spinning and waves crashing as I climaxed. Aftershocks burst like pops of color while I sucked in heaving gulps of humid night air.

  And then Beck, pulling me hard to his massive chest and holding me. Stroking my naked, slick skin. Kissing my temple. When our eyes finally met, my heart leapt with pure, unfiltered joy.

  While my brain said uh-oh.

  Beck Mason had given me The First Kiss to End All Kisses, after a surprise first date that both delighted and comforted me, after weeks of watching his shy grins, his kind actions, his true heart—all the many ways he moved through this world with real compassion. He performed beautiful deeds for this world every day, on purpose and without an audience.

  Uh-oh.

  My body was shifting, releasing the lust, the heady arousal. Welcoming even more feelings for him. I was falling, I was sure of it. What else could explain this weightlessness?

  Beck’s thumb traced my bottom lip. “For the record, Luna—that’s how I show a woman how I feel.”

  Fireworks.

  38

  Luna

  I woke up a changed woman.

  Literally.

  The sun streamed in through my white, gauzy curtains—and my first sense was birdsong, ocean waves. It was another balmy morning in Miami.

  The memory of last night came roaring back, momentarily stealing my breath. The Kiss. That orgasm. My body writhing against Beck’s massive one, on his bike, in the middle of my courtyard. The sensations had been otherworldly, not like anything I’d ever experienced before with any other lover. I wanted him here now, naked, in my bed—wanted the ability to explore every plane of his body with my mouth, wanted Beck gasping, unable to take any more pleasure.

  Except he would, right? His passion for me felt like an endless thing in the most beautiful way. Never before had I actually experienced the feeling of being devoured. Worshipped. The knowledge of that infused my mind with thoughts I hadn’t let myself examine for a long time.

  Thoughts about compassion. Image. Money.

  My gold rings were stacked next to a picture of my parents and me in my early twenties, grinning cheesily on a random hiking trail, packs strapped to our backs. My parents were both teachers, as big-hearted as you could get, and yet their actions weren’t monetized. My entire life they had quietly toiled, volunteering with me when they could, helping their neighbors, teaching their students with kindness. Spending time with me in nature, always gently encouraging my attention to the connections that existed between all of us. Every leaf and grain of sand as integral to our planet as the tusk of an elephant, a white whale, stray cats and honeybees. It was one, harmonious web—which was why every action we took as human beings had a reaction, no matter how small. For them, it was no act. And really, my compassion wasn’t an act either—it felt as essential to my body as water, as air.

  “Namaste, bitch.” Daisy was standing on my patio, waving excitedly at me through the glass of the patio door. Behind her, of course, were Cameron and Emily.

  I jumped, clutching the sheets to my chest.

  “What do you want?” I mock-yelled, waving them away half-hearte
dly. “I’m naked and thinking about Beck.”

  “Girl, I bet you are,” Cameron cheered. “Get dressed. It’s not Sunday but we brought you surprise Drag Queen Brunch.”

  I cheered, shaking my wild hair loose. A glance at my phone let me know I was in meetings for eight straight hours until I could finally sneak away to Lucky Dog before dinner. Eight long hours where I knew I’d be distracted by thoughts of Beck all day.

  But I had forty-five minutes before I had to get ready for work—it was barely 6:30 in the morning, but when your best friends were adept at running the world, they carved out time to bring you brunch at dawn. Mordecai’s Bistro hosted an extremely popular Drag Queen Brunch on Sundays that all four of us attended once a month. It was our special, sacred time to overindulge and gossip and laugh our way through whatever rough things had come up during the week. It also had the added benefit of being a meeting space for four local romance authors that we all read and followed obsessively.

  I tossed on a sundress and slipped barefoot out onto the patio, where Roxanne was already setting up coffee and bright yellow bowls of ripe mangoes and sliced oranges. I placed a hand on her shoulder, thanked her, and joined my best friends at the infinity pool. They’d laid out the best vegan breakfast that Mordecai’s offered—complete with mimosas.

  “A kiss for you, you, and you,” I said, kissing each one on the top of the head. Emily and Cameron were both dressed in stylish running clothes while Daisy wore a hot-purple tracksuit. “This is literally the nicest thing ever.”

  Emily held out a donut, teasingly—and when I reached for it, she yanked it away. “You can only have this if you tell us about what happened with Beck last night.”

  I snatched it, bit into it with a fake growl. “I’ll spill all the deets. But I need your help with blowing up my reputation on Instagram.”

  “Go on,” Daisy said, lifting her sunglasses.

  “Last night I almost ate a bacon cheeseburger from a burger stand off the highway called Mel’s.”

  There was a long pause. And then Cameron said, “Thank god.”

  I snorted. “I only contemplated doing it because I felt wretched.”

  “Cameron means thank god you’re a human being,” Emily said, patting my hand. “I mean, we know you’re a human being. An extremely good human being. But being tempted doesn’t make you weak. It makes you real.”

  I shook my head. Watched a trio of birds land in the palm tree closest to me. “Is that how I come off though? Not real?”

  My best friends exchanged a look. “You’re a billionaire, Luna. A smart one. A savvy one. The media might play at making you out to be a glittery Instagram influencer, but we all know that beneath that flower-crown is the mind of a savage businesswoman,” Emily said. “You couldn’t have gotten here without it, that ability to see an opportunity and use it to your advantage.”

  I trailed my toes through the warm water. “But?”

  “You’re almost too aware of your brand,” Cameron said. “Which isn’t a criticism, really. Because we all are. But I think if there’s anything that’s coming from this Ferris Mark shit, it’s that the public’s opinion is mercurial, impossible to predict, and impossible to truly cultivate. You, Luna da Rosa, have to exist within the middle of that feeling proud of who you are and your decisions. They’ll love you and hate you regardless of what you do.”

  I tilted my head, picked up a slice of orange. “Sylvia said something similar to me last week.”

  “What does all of this have to do with burgers and Beck?” Daisy prodded.

  “Look at the picture he took of me last night.” I crawled closer, showed them my phone. In the picture I look like, well… myself. “Beck thought I could tell people about not eating this burger. Not giving in to the lies they’re telling about me.”

  “You need to post that,” Emily said. “Take it from someone who’s now very seriously dating a fixer. The public loves it when you’re truly real. Not that you should do it for that. But that you should do it as, I don’t know, a hard reset? How you’re truly going to be open and accountable moving forward?”

  “Your actions in public and your actions in private being one and the same,” I said, bringing the tips of my fingers together. I’d been mulling this over since meeting Beck. You could say a lot about his surly attitude, but he didn’t change his behavior for anyone. Public or private. Even with the sudden reappearance of his past, and his family, in the media all over again.

  “I’m going to do it,” I said, biting my lip on a smile. “Whatever shit people want to keep throwing at me and Beck is stickier than I would have imagined. I’ve done everything I can. Apologized publicly. Fixed the problem. Implemented better policies so the same mistake can’t repeat itself. Rededicated myself to my values.” I felt buoyed by the warm, kind smiles of my friends. “I have to keep living now.”

  Daisy handed me another donut. “And you can start by eating this second donut.”

  “That works. I’m starving.” I devoured it in seconds.

  “Speaking of starving,” she continued, “tell us you sexed with Beck last night and are going to marry him and have a bunch of bearded babies.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Not exactly. But our first kiss was so amazing I literally came.”

  Cameron started to slow clap and I threw a piece of donut at her.

  “And…?” Emily said.

  I bit my lip, taking my phone back to swipe to the very last one. If Beck’s life was the ability to prioritize actions over words then this picture said it all. I placed the phone on the concrete between the three of them. Sat back and watched their reactions.

  Emily was the first to react—her entire face lit up, like a switch being thrown. And then she reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing tightly.

  “Oh, Moon,” she said. “You’re falling in love.”

  39

  Beck

  Fourteen hours, fifty-five minutes and… shit, how many seconds had it been?

  I scrubbed a hand down my face, fought the urge to pace our administrative offices. Next to me, Jem had set up a table with ingredients in our makeshift kitchen, where we brewed pot after pot of coffee and ate slices of pizza on Fridays. It had a stove, an old refrigerator and a microwave. That morning, I’d asked Jem if she’d ever seen Luna mention anything vegan that she liked. She had screamed the words peanut butter chocolate bars. Right in my fucking ear. So now Jem was lining a piece of wax paper while I stirred maple syrup and peanut butter with clumsy motions.

  “She’ll love them,” Jem said, nudging me with her shoulder. “I promise. Is there an occasion?”

  “Um.” I stirred and stirred. “To say thank you.”

  “For what?”

  For giving me the greatest kiss I’d ever experienced and for climaxing on my cock like a dark-haired angel.

  “Everything she’s done. You know, the money or whatever.”

  “Sure.” Jem smirked, placing a bowl of chocolate into the microwave. “That doesn’t sound like a lie at all.”

  Wes kicked the front door open and yelled, “Guess who’s getting adopted today.” He had Betty and Veronica in his arms. Jem had given them tiny pink bows for their collars and they tilted their heads as Wes spun around.

  I grinned. “Jimmy coming by today?”

  “He is, boss. And he’s mad excited. He told me he’s happy he has a two-bedroom apartment since he’s planning on Betty and Veronica here having their own space to really stretch out.”

  “The right match,” I said. Jem nodded in agreement.

  “When’s Luna coming by today?” Wes asked. “I need to talk to her about Bachelor in Miami last night.”

  “Any minute now,” I said, attempting to inject as much casualness in my voice as I could muster.

  And it’s been fourteen hours, fifty-eight minutes and fuck it, it’d been too much time since I’d said good night to Luna after our date. I’d carefully tugged her shirt back on, given her another kiss, made sure she’d g
otten in the front door safely, and then rode home with the dopiest grin on my face. A grin that was still on my face.

  Wes and Jem had been giving me shit about it all day.

  Elián, however, had clapped me on the back and said, “I’m happy for you.”

  Nothing had happened. It was one date. One kiss. One orgasm.

  And yet it felt, to me, as if everything had happened.

  This morning Luna had also posted the picture of her and the cheeseburger. She had that hopeful-happy-compassionate look on her face. The caption read: Hey there Wild Heart fans: You might have noticed the internet has had some choice words to say about me and my values over the past few weeks—especially about one of my deepest-held values: the rights of animals. I cannot begin to tell you the extent of my regret for our involvement with Ferris Mark and I remain dedicated to ensuring a mistake like that never, ever happens again. But on a personal note, I’ve been a dedicated vegan since I was eleven years old. Yesterday, disparaged and hopeless, I took a stab at eating this burger and abandoning my beliefs: giving in to the absolute worst of what people have said about me.

  I couldn’t do it. Regardless of my mistakes, that value cannot be taken from me—not by trolls or mean commenters or trashy media or hurtful gossip. This is what lives in my heart and it is mine and mine alone. Please don’t give up on me—and please don’t ever give up on your values. Treasure them.

  A friendly reminder to go donate to Lucky Dog when you have a chance. It is a truly special place. And if anyone on this page says another WORD about Beck Mason that isn’t positive, I will block you. Love and light—Luna

  It was the growth I’d seen Luna going through these past two weeks. But she’d also defended me. It didn’t feel like a post that was using me or my nonprofit—but embracing my past, for better or worse.