Ex on the Beach

by Kim Law

  “Hurry,” she whispered. “Fast.”

  Oh, hell. He’d intended to do a bit more than unzip and push into her, but she was making it very hard. In more ways than one.

  “Let me take you to the bed, sweetheart. Slow down and do this right.”

  She shook her head and put her mouth back to that spot just under his ear. “No time. I want you now.”

  In a matter of seconds he was sufficiently protected, had his shorts dropped to his ankles, her panties tossed across the room, and was gripping Andie’s bare ass in his hands. When her legs and arms all wrapped around him, he knew she’d won.

  She dug her hands into his hair, and he slammed her back against the wall. Then he was in her. They both reared back, their breaths momentarily caught as they eyed each other from under their lashes. And then he pulled out and plunged in again.

  Everything about her was both hot and soft. She tasted good, she felt good. She was freaking dynamite in his arms. He couldn’t focus long enough to do more than hang on and keep pounding.

  “Oh God, Mark,” she whimpered. “Yes.”

  Yes. He had to agree. Yes.

  This was where he belonged.

  Her legs squeezed tighter and her arms clenched him like a vise. She had his mouth fused to hers as if she’d never get enough. He was going to finish in a matter of seconds if they didn’t slow down. But damn, she was wanton. Bucking and whimpering. She murmured his name over and over.

  “Baby,” he whispered. He kicked off his flip-flops and the shorts around his feet, then shifted the two of them to another wall where he could see the ocean sparkling outside the window. Focusing on it was almost enough to help him slow down, but then she tightened her inner muscles and arched herself back just enough to make their contact a little more exact, and he knew it was over. His biceps tensed, a lamp crashed to the floor, and he shoved her into the corner and braced his palms against the wall so he could drive himself home.

  He wanted to make sure she was there with him, but he couldn’t wait. His mind was blown. She’d pushed him over the edge.

  The last thing he remembered before he threw back his head and let out a groan was seeing her do the same thing. Her breasts rose in the air, her back arched, and she ground herself into him.

  They shook against each other, their orgasms seeming to go on forever. He was pretty sure his leg muscles were going to give out before he was empty, but somehow he managed to hang on. And he hung on to her at the same time. Or even better, she hung on to him.

  Her hands clutched at his arms as she convulsed around him, animal noises coming from her throat. He couldn’t help but smile.

  This was his Andie.

  The one he’d wanted to keep forever.

  The one he was terrified he still wanted. Forever.

  They both calmed, and he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a gentle kiss to her open mouth. She let out a tiny sighing noise in return.

  She was sated. His woman. And he’d done that.

  Keeping her tucked against him, he crossed to the bed and yanked back the covers, then followed her down. He’d thought he was taking advantage of her when they’d started, but he had the sudden notion that maybe she had been the one taking advantage all along.

  If that were the case, would she now tell him to go? Because he wasn’t ready to leave. He didn’t know if he ever would be.

  And how ridiculous was that? He closed his eyes, praying that he wasn’t falling for her again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Andie let out a happy groan and stretched, enjoying the feel of Mark up against her. That was one way to release some stress. “Can we do that again?” she asked. It was all she could do not to purr like a cat. Why hadn’t they been doing that for the past week?

  A large hand slid over her bare stomach, fingers stretching from one side to the other, and she looked over to find Mark smiling wickedly at her. His hand crawled under her skewed bra to settle around the bottom curve of her breast and he gave a little squeeze.

  “We can do that as many times as you’d like. The next time should be slower, though. So I can properly touch you.” His thumb slid over her nipple, making it instantly hard. “And taste you.” He licked her through the lace. “Just let me catch my second wind.”

  Her eyes lowered to his crotch. “Is that what it’s called these days? A second wind?”

  “Smart-ass,” he muttered. He squeezed her again, then shifted so that he could grab a tissue and dispose of the condom. Next he ripped off his shirt and propped himself up against the headboard. He then pulled her in snug beside him and turned his gaze on her with a knowing look.

  It made her feel guilty. If he’d used her as she’d just done to him, the situation would not be pretty.

  “I feel like I should apologize,” she whispered. Embarrassment engulfed her and she tried to duck her head. He wouldn’t let her. “I wouldn’t have slapped you,” she tacked on, her voice quiet as she glanced down at the shirt hanging off her shoulders and the jean skirt bunched up at her waist. “I only acted like it because I knew you’d stop me.”

  The gravity of her actions rested heavily on her, but at the same time her inner voice kept shouting: I had sex with Mark! I had sex with Mark!

  “I see,” he said. He slid a hand down her arm, then reached around front to locate her breast. It had always amazed her how much of her he could palm at one time. “And what about the kick?” he asked. “Were you going to try to kick me in the boys again? Because I’ll tell you, it wouldn’t have gotten you the result you were looking for.”

  “Not a chance.” She closed her eyes as he caressed her, enjoying the slow touch. It was heating her up again, much faster than she would have thought possible. “And I have to tell you that I felt really bad about that the other night.”

  He chuckled, then pulled his fingers away from her skin.

  “Hey.” Her eyes popped open. “I was enjoying that.”

  “I know, too much. That’s why I stopped.”

  “Well, that makes no sense at all.”

  He tilted his head down and kissed her on the nose. “I thought maybe we could talk first.”

  “Oh, come on. I don’t want to talk.” She made a move to get out of bed, but his hands wrapped around her waist and brought her back to him, this time settling her directly on his lap. She couldn’t help it, she wiggled her butt on his crotch.

  “Stop it,” he growled. “We’re going to have a grown-up talk now. Not hide things with hot sex.”

  The way he said it made her think he was under the impression that that’s what they’d done in the past. She studied him, thinking back to heated arguments and even hotter make-up sex, and wondered if he might be on to something. Had they skirted around too many issues in the past? She’d have to give it more thought later.

  “What if I did naughty things to you?” she asked. She wiggled against him again and felt him stirring beneath her. “Could we have more hot sex then?”

  He shook his head at her. “You are the devil, woman.” He parked her back on the bed and pointed a finger at her, strangely reminding her of Aunt Ginny. “Stay put.”

  He got out of bed and headed to pick up the bottle of water that she’d thrown at him, while she got busy shedding the remainder of her clothes.

  “I’m sorry I hit you with the bottle of water,” she said. She really was. It had connected harder than she’d intended.

  He looked back at her and she smiled. She was now completely naked. Just exactly as he was.

  “And that I hit you with a pillow,” she added.

  He turned up the bottle and drank half the water, all the while eyeing her as she sat in the middle of the bed. She did her share of eyeing, too. It had been a really long time since she’d had the chance to do that.

  She wet her lips. “Looks like you still work out.”

  He smiled around the mouth of the bottle, and kept drinking.

  Looked like he never put an ounce of anything bad in his bo
dy, actually.

  How could a man have such defined abs? It made her want to suck in her own stomach, but the way he was looking at her implied he hadn’t noticed their differences. Or if he had, he liked what he saw, anyway.

  When he lowered the water to his side, she couldn’t help but notice that he was hard again. Fully.

  “Do you want a bottle?” he asked. His voice was tight.

  She nodded. “Please.”

  He got her one and crawled back into bed with her, but when she started to scoot over next to him, he pointed back to the other side of the mattress.

  “Come on, Mark. Why not?”

  “Because we have things to talk about, babe. You have things to talk about. You said a lot downstairs.”

  She made a face at him and pulled the covers up, tucking them under her arms. “Then cover that thing up so I don’t have to look at it.”

  He grinned at her — his entire face softening and looking like the man she’d once fallen head over heels for — but did as she’d asked. With both of them sufficiently hidden and once again propped up against the headboard, she let out a long breath and asked with a petulant groan, “What do you want to know?”

  He laughed, the sound almost bitter. “Where to start? There are so many things.”

  Well, she wasn’t going to start it. When she remained silent, he finally came out with a question.

  “Your mother’s full name is Cassiopeia?”

  She jerked her gaze to his and burst out laughing. “Yes. My mother’s full name is Cassiopeia. My grandmother apparently saw her as the beautiful one. My oldest aunt was Athena, the wise one. But apparently by the time Aunt Ginny came around, Grandmother had moved on to patron saints. There’s no telling what a fourth child would have been named.”

  “And your mother continued the tradition by naming you Andromeda?”

  Andie shrugged. “Apparently. The myth goes that Andromeda was Cassiopeia’s daughter. I can’t imagine why my mother did something so fanciful. From what I can tell, she’s never had another moment’s lightheartedness in her life.”

  Which led them to the topic of her mother. Both of them sat quietly, and Andie knew that he was waiting for her to bring up the fact that her mother was there on the island. At the house. And possibly he wanted her to bring up that Andie had declared that her mother had never liked her. But how did one just bring that up?

  Especially when she’d hidden it from him the whole time they’d been engaged?

  Not to mention that it barely mattered because Andie had always loved Aunt Ginny more than her own mother, anyway?

  A soft whimper embarrassed her as it slipped from her throat, and Mark’s strong arm came around her and pulled her to his side. His embrace gave her the courage she needed. She rested her head in the curve of his shoulder and began talking.

  “She was thirty-seven when she had me. You might remember that from … before, though. Anyway, she’d been married for years, and from what I can gather, the two of them never wanted kids. Then she got pregnant with me and he left her.” She glanced up at Mark before continuing. “But he wasn’t my father. Though I’ve no idea who was. I told you that before, too. Then she met John when I was seven. They dated for a year and got married. And I started coming to Aunt Ginny’s the next summer.”

  “But you spent the remainder of each year with your mother?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Better schools. She expected the best from me.” Still expected the best from her.

  “With a Harvard MBA, I’d say you gave it to her.”

  She looked away from his probing eyes. That wasn’t exactly the case.

  He stroked his thumb over her shoulder as if knowing that he was giving her the courage to continue, simply from his touch. That was one of the things she’d always loved about him. He knew when she needed him. His mere presence gave her the courage to step outside herself.

  The night he’d shown up at the bar with the charm for her ankle, she’d just gotten off the phone with her mother, having discovered there was no need for her to fly home the next day for Christmas. Cassie and John were heading to Europe for the holidays. Andie’s mother had forgotten to tell her.

  Mark had shown up when she’d felt at her lowest, and though she’d ignored his advances for months when he’d been a regular in the place — mostly because he’d been friends with Rob — she’d been unable to look away from him that night. Somehow he’d known she needed someone, and there he’d been. He’d given her the gift, then had sat at the bar for hours, talking to her any chance she got.

  When the bar had closed, she’d taken him home with her and they’d remained together every day that followed…until he hadn’t shown up for their wedding.

  She sucked in a breath and continued, “I didn’t give it to her, actually. Not what she wanted. I was never good enough. No matter how hard I tried.” She plucked at the bedspread covering her, wondering if she would ever make her mother proud. “I can’t be like her,” she whispered. “I can work just as hard. I do work just as hard. But things never turn out the same for me. I’m a screwup. A failure.”

  And she was tired of trying so hard. What was the point, anyway? Especially now that her mother was there to see her fail spectacularly with her own two eyes.

  “Are you kidding me?” Mark’s harsh tone surprised her. He stopped her fiddling with the bedspread by weaving their fingers together, and she couldn’t help but look up at him, his vehemence sending a small thrill sizzling through her. “How can you even say that?” he asked. “You’re far from a failure, Andie. Far from it. You—”

  “Got fired from my job in Boston,” she said, shutting him up. “Yep. I lost you and got fired, all within days. That was not a proud time for my mother.”

  “Baby,” he uttered. “I …” He shook his head and then gripped her face between his hands. His arms were tense, but his touch was soft. “You got fired?” She read the shock in his gaze. His eyes were a stormy blue at the moment. “I thought you quit. To get away from me.”

  She laughed, but it came out as dry as she felt inside. “Funny thing is, I considered it. But that job was what I’d worked for — what was going to earn me the love of my mother. Finally. So, no, I didn’t walk away. But because I didn’t win that account, the client I invited to our wedding …” She paused and raised her eyebrows to make sure he understood which account. “Because I failed, they let me go.”

  “But that makes no sense,” Mark began.

  “It makes perfect sense. I’d already made several mistakes since they’d hired me. I wasn’t holding up my end.” She lifted a shoulder and tried to look away, but he had her face trapped. “I was on probation, Mark,” she whispered in shame. “It was my last opportunity to keep the job.”

  His eyes softened. “You never told me you were having that kind of trouble.”

  “No, I didn’t.” She peeled his fingers from her face then crawled to the middle of the bed, taking a section of the cover with her. “I just worked around the clock instead. Trying to keep my job. I was so far out of my element with you and your family as it was. And then your dad …” She peeked at him. “He got me the job. The job I couldn’t even do well enough to keep. So, no, I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t let you see that I was as big a misfit there as I was trying to fit into your family.”

  “Baby, you were never like that. My family loved you.”

  “And I loved them.” She couldn’t hide from the lost sound of her words. “Very much. But I was a girl playing pretend. I wasn’t anybody. Not like you. I didn’t fit in. No matter how nice your family was to me.” She shook her head, refusing to look at him now, and trying her hardest not to let him see her cry again. “I never fit. Anywhere.”

  Except there.

  With Aunt Ginny.

  Mark stared at Andie, her words threatening to dig up long-ago memories while setting his chest on fire. Memories that felt a lifetime old. Or older.

  He shoved the thoughts aside. It didn’t p
ay to think about it.

  “You are not a failure,” he started, knowing he should address the way she’d felt about fitting in with him and his family, but not sure he could have that conversation while keeping his past at bay. “You’ve built this place, baby. Practically on your own, I’d imagine. Not a failure in the least.”

  “And I’m going to lose it,” she stated flatly. She turned back to him, her eyes empty and hollow. “Did you forget that? If the wedding is called off, I’ll lose the bonus and we’ll lose the house. I did that, Mark. I talked Ginny into it. It’s all on me.”

  She’d explained the loan to him the previous evening. Right before he’d gone off to find Rob.

  “What did Rob say, anyway?” she asked. Fear flickered across her face, making her look about six years old. “Should I tell Kayla to alert the rest of the guests of a cancellation?”

  He felt like a heel. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to him yet. He wasn’t in his room last night, and Penelope was stuck to his side the whole day today. They’re going out tonight, so I’m going to talk to him on the fishing boat tomorrow.”

  Frustration filled him. The last thing he wanted was to be the reason for her business shutting down, but he couldn’t let Rob walk into a marriage without knowing what he was up against. Without knowing what was expected of him.

  “I’ve got to talk to him, Andie,” he whispered. He reached for her, but she slipped away and stood from the bed, her body naked and glorious in the sunshine streaming in from the open door.

  “You know I do,” he pleaded when she didn’t say anything. “But I want to cover the payment for you.”

  She gaped at him. “I can’t take your money.”

  “Why not?”

  The fact that she stood glaring at him while as naked as when she’d entered the world, was not lost on him. He wanted to forget the conversation and drag her back to bed. He wanted to take his time with her and explore all those places he’d only thought about over the last few years.