WILD OPEN HEARTS: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy

by Nolan, Kathryn

  “So hot,” I moaned. “Beck, is this… is this how you touch yourself?”

  His voice was muffled by my skirts but clear enough for me to hear: “I touch myself and I think about you.”

  “I like it,” I whispered. “Very much.”

  His fist was moving faster now—tongue working in unison.

  But I needed my lips on him.

  I batted his hand away and lowered my mouth to his cock, sucking him deep as he worked his tongue on my clit. When was the last time I’d done this—when was the last time sex had been this fraught? His groans against my sex only made what he was doing hotter, better. The deeper I sucked his cock, the hotter I got, and the hotter I got, the faster his tongue flew. His palms were gripping my asscheeks, spreading them apart as he devoured me. I was fisting him fast, taking as much as I could—seconds away from climax. I started to scream, started to wail, started to rock my hips over his face. I was going to climax with his cock in my mouth and there was nothing I needed more.

  His thumb slid through my folds and slipped inside. Euphoria rushed over me, a blinding ecstasy, and I cried out around his cock, coming hard and fast.

  Beck did too.

  Oh, and it was glorious. One long, beautiful groan that seemed to contain a lifetime of pleasure—a hot rush of salt—our orgasms in blissful unison. When we finally, finally, stopped moving, I collapsed off of Beck, onto my back. Wiped my mouth. Tried to catch my breath.

  Uh-oh uh-oh uh-oh.

  There I went again. Falling. He rolled over and placed his head on my stomach, breathing heavily. And I stroked his hair, the sweat on the back of his neck. Listened to the sound of his breath start to slow.

  “I’m kidnapping you tomorrow,” I said, still panting. “You’re calling in sick from work.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not even going to fight it, are you?”

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  I stroked his temple. “When was the last time you ever fake called in sick?”

  “I’ve never even considered it. And I’m going to guess that Luna da Rosa doesn’t take days off either.”

  “I never get sick,” I explained.

  “Bullshit.” He chuckled.

  “It’s true.” I laughed. “You don’t spend your entire life mainlining kale smoothies and experimenting with vitamin C supplements without gaining the immune system of, well, me, I guess.” Another stroke, this time through his beard. “Not even when I was a waitress in high school and college, I never played hooky. Never skipped a day of class in school.”

  “Why now?” he asked. We both sounded dreamy, floaty; voices rough from our orgasms.

  “Because you inspire me. And I’ve got decisions to process.”

  “Okay then.”

  “You don’t want any more details?”

  “Doesn’t that ruin the kidnapping?”

  I giggled and he kissed my fingers. “I want to ride your bike, so can you pick me up?”

  “And I’m kidnapping you.”

  “Semantics, Beck. And I want to do what we just did. Like a hundred more times.”

  “That can be arranged, sweetheart.”

  My toes curled against the floor.

  Uh-oh.

  43

  Beck

  Luna’s text the next morning gave me the time to pick her up on the bike and nothing else.

  I’ll pack all of the essentials, the text said. What followed was a bunch of winking faces and videos of fireworks.

  I guessed she liked what we’d done yesterday in my office.

  I know I fucking liked it. I loved having Luna’s soft mouth wrapped around my cock while I ate her out. When I came, I felt a brick tumbling from my walls.

  She was breaking me. But not in a bad way.

  I’d stared at her texts for a while last night, knowing that if I sent Okay back to her, she’d tease me about it tomorrow. Instead I sent, I am prepared to be very sick tomorrow. But I know that after our date—

  I deleted “date.” Retyped it. Thought about it. Kept it in.

  Luna da Rosa was also turning me back into an awkward teenager again, apparently.

  But I know that after our date I will feel incredible. You make me feel incredible.

  I hit send. Wondered if that was weird, but it was the truth.

  Her reply came instantly.

  You make me feel incredible too, Beck.

  By the time I roared up to her gigantic mansion on my motorcycle, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face even if I’d wanted to. And when Luna walked barefoot through the grass towards me, I understood just how gone I was for this girl.

  I wasn’t a religious man. But I sent something like a prayer to the sky—that my parents would leave us be. That the MC would fade into the background. That Wild Heart would be fine and Luna could be mine.

  Please.

  Before she could even open her mouth, I had her by the waist, pulling her in for a long, sweet kiss.

  “Good morning,” I said. “I’m very sick today. How about you?”

  She gave a cute little cough. “It’s the flu, I know it.”

  I smoothed tendrils of hair from her face. She wasn’t wearing makeup, so I could see the freckles across her nose.

  “Do you want to come see inside my house? And I’m only asking because my best friends are on the back patio and they’re dying to meet you.”

  “I look okay?” I asked.

  “You look hot,” she said. “Come on. Brutus is in the back too. You’ll love him. He’s our free-range Saint Bernard.”

  “Brutus?”

  She held my hand as we walked beneath the palm trees that lined her driveway. “He’s a rescue pup, but he hates being confined. That’s why we let him roam about the enclave.”

  “Huh,” I said. We walked through her courtyard, which had a fountain and huge, flowering plants and wind-chimes hanging from the tree branches. It was very… Luna.

  “Come on in,” she said, looking shy. “This is my home.”

  I stepped into a house filled with color and light and green things. Every room was open, filled with rugs and throw pillows, candles and plants. The ceiling had lanterns and string lights. Large windows opened up onto a turquoise pool. It was massive, expensive-looking. There were photos everywhere—of Luna and her family, her travels, her friends, awards from her work and magazine covers she was on.

  Very, very Luna.

  “Is that Big Dick Beck?”

  Luna’s eyes widened, but she couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled up from her. “My friends are out there and that’s Daisy, by the way.”

  Outside, lounging with their feet in the pool, were three powerful-looking women with smiles on their faces. All three wore giant sunglasses, bathing suits, and sarongs.

  “When I told them about my sick day, they all agreed they needed one too. Although they’re off doing other things today.”

  “And people.” The red head smirked. “A lot of us will be fucking. Two of us to be exact.”

  “And one—me—will be dialing all of the European princes I know for a booty call,” Daisy said. “Come on over, Beck. Luna was just giving us a detailed depiction of your penis.”

  I put my helmet down. “Nice to meet you. Happy my dick can be of service.”

  Daisy gave me a mock salute. I shook hands with the tall blonde woman—Emily—and the smirking auburn-haired beauty—Cameron. Daisy was wearing an orange wig and gave me a high five.

  “I’m sorry the media’s been tearing you apart, Beck,” Emily said. “Been there. Literally. As in like months ago. It feels horrible.”

  I looked at Luna, who gave me a little nod. “It was more of a surprise than anything else. I feel worse about what they’re saying about Luna.”

  Luna gave a little shrug—but her expression was more serene than I’d ever seen it. “Eh. What are you gonna do?”

  “That’s my girl,” Cameron said.

  “Luna’s told me how much all of you suppo
rt each other,” I ventured. “That’s a nice thing to have.”

  Emily gave a knowing smile to Luna. “We protect each other, all right.”

  A shaggy dog jumped out from where he must have been hiding in the flowering bushes. Saw me and leapt toward my face.

  “Oh my god, Brutus, no,” Luna squealed. But I was already sinking to my knees and giving Brutus a hug.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I know him.”

  “You know Brutus?” Daisy asked. “How?”

  “Your neighbors must have gotten him from Lucky Dog,” I said. “I didn’t realize it was this Brutus. They said they lived in a quiet neighborhood. This must be dog paradise.”

  “Where did he come from?” Luna asked.

  “Um… let me think.” I sat back on my heels and Brutus immediately rolled over for me. “He and his sister had been left in a box on our doorstep by someone. Both pretty malnourished and skittish. Took about nine, maybe ten weeks but they warmed up, as you can tell.”

  “Brutus, in particular, can’t keep his nose out of human butts,” Daisy said.

  I chuckled. “That sounds like Brutus.”

  I ran my palm over his fur, really damn happy to see one of my dogs in his new environment. We did house visits often after the adoption went through, but Brutus had been adopted a few years ago. He looked healthy, happy, safe.

  He looked loved.

  “He was a real sweetheart when we worked with him,” I said. And when I looked up I caught Luna’s friends giving her matching looks. Luna was blushing.

  “Any other animals I should know about?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

  “Frank,” Cameron said. “He’s our free-range parrot, but you’d know if he was here because he’d be calling you a fuckface.”

  “And?” I asked, because it felt like there was more.

  “We’ve got a pod of dolphins in the marina that are horny as fuck,” Daisy said proudly. “My kind of people. Although, on Valentine’s Day, they usually make me feel more alone.”

  Cameron and Emily snorted.

  “And Steve,” Luna said, toeing the ground. She smiled at me from beneath a veil of hair. “Our rescued alligator. Lives in the lagoon. He likes when I feed him rotisserie chicken.”

  “He’s not a vegan then?” I asked.

  “Not even a little,” she said. “He’s a softie. You just have to watch your arms and legs around him.”

  Brutus curled at my feet, seemingly content in this weird environment of rich people and infinity pools and parrots and alligators.

  “Are you ready to kidnap me or what?” Luna asked. “These perverts will be here forever, so we should get going.” She lifted up her backpack.

  “I’m ready,” I said. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. You should come to Lucky Dog sometime.”

  “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of you, Mr. Big Dick,” Daisy said.

  I grinned, gave Brutus one last pat, and placed my hand low on Luna’s back as we walked back through her house.

  “You really told them about my cock, sweetheart?” I asked, bending down to nip at her neck.

  She shivered. “I did. I described it in glorious detail. Is that okay?”

  “More than okay.”

  I gave Luna her helmet, swung my leg over the bike and helped her on. Felt an immediate calm as her body wrapped around mine.

  “Where are we going on our sick day, Luna?”

  “We are going to a very private beach that doesn’t have a name,” she said. “But my parents used to take me there as a kid. It’s a little wild and overgrown. You up for it?”

  I squeezed her hands where they wrapped around my chest. “Yes. And what are we going to do there?”

  She made a humming sound. “Eat this lunch I made for us before we skinny-dip.”

  This woman.

  “Were you sent to this earth to kill me?” I asked, tightening my hands on the throttle.

  “Oh, Beck,” she sighed, laying her cheek on my shoulder blade. “I think I was sent to this earth to make you feel more alive.”

  44

  Luna

  It took only thirty minutes for Beck and me to come upon the private beach. This was the beach we used to frequent when I was younger, when my world was nothing but communing with nature and animals and the tropical environment around me. And during this not-really-sick sick day, when I needed to process the abundance of new information and feelings I had about myself, I knew taking Beck here would be the cure.

  We coasted down the road, leaving the highway for backcountry roads crowded with overgrown trees and bushes. The air was thick with humidity as I directed him to a tiny, dusty pull-off. We parked and he took my pack from me, depositing it neatly on his back as he grabbed my hand.

  “Lead the way,” he said.

  I slipped my flip-flops off and zippered them into the pack. Flexed my toes in the wet earth, feeling a deep connection root there.

  “On my social media accounts, I talk a lot about disconnecting from technology and letting yourself be in nature,” I said. “And I haven’t done that in years.”

  “Being a billionaire keeps you busy,” he said.

  “Still,” I said, with a shrug. “It’s interesting, isn’t it?”

  “Where’s your phone now?” he asked.

  “At home,” I promised. I held up my empty palms. “It’s only me. No articles or Twitter comments or emails from Jasmine or financial crises. I mean, all of that is still happening and Wild Heart is this close to falling to pieces. But all of it can wait until tomorrow, right?”

  “Right,” he said. “Plus you’re sick. You can’t be on your phone when you have the flu.”

  I tapped my temple. “Smart.”

  He gave me a playful grin that doubled my heart rate. “Should we go?”

  I gave his hand a tug, pulling us along a sandy trail you’d never know existed if you didn’t already know it was there. We hiked in silence, listening to bird song and the crash of waves that heralded the nearness of the ocean. Vines swayed, leaves tangled in our hair, we laughed as we tripped over roots and slipped under low-hanging branches. Beck’s height kept him knocking against trees—but he was a good sport about it. And when we reached a giant mud puddle, he simply scooped me up and deposited me on the other side.

  “How long have you been coming here?” he asked.

  “Since I was little. My parents thought it was really important for children to feel at home in the wild, at one with nature. Veganism is usually connected to animal rights—which is important to me, obviously. But the other part of that is that factory farming and the meat industry destroy all of this.” I waved my hands, indicating the wilderness around us. “Wild Heart is about preserving animals, humans and the earth. And that came from days spent here.”

  We stepped through one last tangle of trees onto a white sand beach, surrounded by high rocks. It was only about twenty-five feet wide and fairly calm—with clear, bright blue water.

  And there wasn’t a soul in sight.

  “Welcome to paradise,” I said with a smile.

  Beck ran his hand through his hair, gazing out at the water with a look of wonder. I let him stand there for a moment, understanding the need to take it all in. From the pack, I unfolded a long white cloth and six glass containers filled with food. I sank onto the cloth, tucking the edges of my sarong beneath my bare legs.

  “Let me feed you,” I said, patting the spot next to me.

  He reached behind his head and tugged off his white shirt, revealing a broad expanse of truly hairy chest. Lumberjack shoulders and a firm belly. He sank down next to me and I couldn’t stop myself from closing my teeth around his bicep.

  “Easy, tiger,” he said.

  I popped open each container. “Fried tofu. Quinoa. Watermelon and blueberries. Avocado and corn salad. Carrots. Corn chips.”

  “Corn chips?”

  “They’re vegan,” I said, biting my lip. “I probably ate my weight in Frito
s during study sessions in college. Also, I have no excuse, I still do that to this day.”

  His eyes crinkled at the sides. “Speaking of interesting food choices, what’s the response been to your cheeseburger post?”

  “One-half love. One-half extreme hatred,” I said. “The people I’ve pissed off are still pissed off. And they keep piling up on me. I guess admitting that I even felt the temptation to eat meat confirms their view that I’ve lied this whole time. And the people who were never really that mad seemed to like it. Liked the honesty in it. Some people even sent me messages about their cheat days. Or other ways that they’re less-than-perfect in how they express their core values on a daily basis but are working towards being better. That was really wonderful to read actually.”

  “I’m sorry about the extreme hatred,” he said.

  “I won’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt,” I said. “But it’s hurting much, much less now.”

  “You won’t ever make them happy,” he said simply.

  I grabbed a fork and handed him one of the containers. “I saw one of your mug shots the other day,” I said, and immediately watched his spine stiffen. “I think it was your last one.”

  “How did you know it was the last one?” he asked softly.

  “You had this look,” I said. “Like you’d already decided this was going to be your last time. Is that true? Before even meeting Willow, did you have a sense that you wouldn’t go back inside again?”

  Beck chewed for a minute and I let him think. “I was seventeen, about to do eight months. If I fucked up after that, I wasn’t going to juvie. I was going to prison. Which is a big difference. MC members were always in and out of jail, in between prison sentences or awaiting trial. It was part of life, something to get through. It was a way to serve the MC and my parents.”

  The waves were soothing behind us, the ocean breeze a cool balm to the sticky heat.

  “I guess I realized…” Beck drummed his fingers on his knee. “I guess I realized that all of my criminal activity was just me, trying to get their attention. Get their love. And they weren’t ever going to give it. Right before my last stint, a loyal club member was returning from a five-year sentence. Logan. He’d taken the fall for a crime my parents had committed. They had been laundering counterfeit bills. But he had taken the fall happily, wanting to prove his loyalty to the club, to our family. It was… awful.” Beck cleared his throat. “I overheard members talking at night about the shit that went down in there. Other rival MCs beating him up on a regular basis. For years. My parents never visited him, never sent money. And when he got out they didn’t even say thank you. There was no reward for him. There was no love. It didn’t matter what I did, or anyone did. They weren’t going to care.”