by Xavier Neal
Not sure his question is helping, I start to reply, but Dani beats me to it. “That makes so much more sense! I thought maybe I was just missing when it was happening, you know?”
My attention drops back down to Abby whose irritation surprisingly seems to have faded. She teases, “At least you’ve stopped chasing after every great ass and just became in love with mine.”
The corner of my lip jerks up. “I’ll follow that ass anywhere, Angel.”
Dani makes an awing noise that directs my eyes back to her. “Dani, Rick, meet my girlfriend, Abby. Abby meet Dani and Rick from marketing. They attend most of the events we do with me. Dani’s great with sales and Rick…Well Rick-”
“I lift the heavy shit so Blake doesn’t have to get sweaty and ruin his chance of charming people.”
Abby laughs at the same time I shake my head.
Somewhat true. Rick does the heavy lifting. Not because I can’t, but because Runt always keeps me on “booth” duty. He wants my face smiling and collecting attention. I could easily lift four times as many boxes and kegs as Rick. I’m without question at least twice his size.
“Nice to meet you.” Dani waves before placing the cooler on the table for Rick to put more bottles inside.
“You’re out of beer again?” I interrupt the introduction.
“Can you believe it?” She adjusts her bikini top underneath her Runt’s Brewery t-shirt. “People are loving it. Plus, switching to these aluminum bottles making them beach friendly without the hassle of a cup? Brilliant.”
“You don’t become one of the wealthiest companies in the world without being that way,” Rick retorts as he pushes the bag towards her.
She agrees, hands him the cash to put in the box, slides the strap back over her shoulder, and leaves with another wave.
Afterwards, I announce to Rick “Hey, you’re on your own for a bit, but I’ll linger close by in case you need the extra hands.”
The moment we’re out of his ear shot, I stop, take a step back and drink in the enticing choice of attire Abby decided on. Her white dress has a small v neck line, long sleeves that are open to expose her arms, and stops right mid-thigh giving my eyes just enough of a tease to keep me anxious for more. Her favorite way to have me and my favorite way to be.
She pulls her hair to one side of her face, exposing the ends she’s curled. “What?”
“You look beautiful,” I compliment, still soaking in the sexy yet angelic presence the dress creates.
Abby tries to hide her concern. “You sure? This dress is much tighter than I’m used to. I know I’m down a size, but still…”
My dick begins to stir in hopes an opportunity might rise to demonstrate my approval. I tug her back against me to introduce her to my nonverbal feelings.
There’s a small gasp when she brushes against my hardness.
“That answer your question?”
She proudly nods.
I capture her mouth once more and let my tongue obliterate any lingering worries. Abby releases a small whimper while one of her hands lightly caresses my cock. When I groan and lean into the touch, she takes it and her mouth away with a snicker.
As much as I love how her sexual confidence has grown, sometimes it makes me miserable. What man enjoys being teased?
The two of us link fingers and return to walking to the spot I picked out.
Once we’re there, which is still within the perfect distance of me being able to keep an eye on Rick, I ask, “You get settled in alright?”
“I did, but where was the surprise? I didn’t see it anywhere.”
A triumphant smile appears on my face. “It’s not there yet. And it’s only one of two. Your first surprise will arrive in the next couple of minutes.”
Abby’s face tilts at me sarcastically.
“Trust me! I know this isn’t your scene, but you’ll enjoy the surprise. I swear.”
She gives me a hum.
“You said you’ve never been to the beach. Where did you used to vacation growin’ up?”
There’s an obvious hesitation before she answers, “We didn’t.”
“You didn’t have family vacations?”
“No. When we traveled it was for competitions for me or for my sister. And when we weren’t competing we were in our rooms rehearsing. Our parents believed the only way to get ahead was to practice while our competition played.”
I try not to growl at their lack of concern with exposing her to anything other than a life of competition.
“This will actually be the longest I’ve been away from my cello.”
With a small chuckle, I state, “I’m honored.”
Abby gently pushes me away. “Shut up.”
My arm falls back around her at the same time they announce the next band will begin playing in a few moments.
Her eyes fly back up to me. “What about you? Were beach vacations a regular thing?”
“They were the cheapest thing next to camping. We did that most of the time. Taking five kids anywhere is already not easy, and then add cost to it?” I shake my head. “We were lucky we got to go anywhere. Ranching has definitely made my parents money over time, but it wasn’t always that way.”
Abby leans into my embrace. “And you never had an interest in it?”
I shake my head again. “Don’t get me wrong. I used to love when Pop would put us to work. I loved being dirty or in most cases, muddy, but I was never like Big Foot. Livestock was just livestock. Crops were just crops. The only thing I cared about was earning my keep so I could spend it on whatever girl I was currently interested in landing or throwing into the next party I couldn’t wait to have.”
She smiles with no surprise in her expression.
We’ve been honest about who we are and who we were from the beginning. I love how she doesn’t let my old bed hopping bother her any more.
“How’d you end up with Ford’s company?”
“He’d been makin’ home brew since he was, I don’t know, 18, maybe? His fascination with beer ran pretty parallel to Big Foot’s obsession with animal health. When he finally got the balls to start it, I was workin’ at some borin’ job for some fitness company, I hated anyway. Helpin’ my baby brother seemed like the right thing to do. Plus, workin’ for a beer company sounded a helluva lot better than what I was doin’. I didn’t love beer like him, but I loved he had that drive. I love that I could help. I loved that I could support his vision. And then, when J.T. put me in this position, everything changed for me. I finally felt like I was exactly where I belonged. Not behind a desk. Not in meeting after meeting after meeting. My place is here. With the people drinkin’. Encouragin’ people to give us a shot. Encouragin’ people to-”
“Take a chance,” she finishes for me with a wide grin. “It’s what you do best, babe.”
My heart thumps heavily against my chest. “I love when you call me that.”
Abby gives me a wink. “I know.”
“Much more than Tiny Dancer.”
“Know that too…”
Before I have the opportunity to show just how much I love it, the next band starts, grabbing my attention. Almost immediately after the music begins, there’s a very large squeak out of my girlfriend as predicted.
“They have a violinist!”
I nod and look over at her. “Now, I know it’s not the same as a cello, but they’re in the same family. I figured you might enjoy ‘em.”
“Do you hear that?!” She squeals with even more joy in her voice. “It adds so much more to the song!”
If she says so…I may have come a long way from cringing at classical music, but it doesn’t mean I understand everything she gushes about.
“Wanna dance?”
My offer is met with a skeptical look. “You know I don’t dance…”
“You don’t like to dance, but you can. You knew how to ballroom waltz. I taught you how to two step-”
“Still look ridiculous and crush your toes.”
I shr
ug. “Do you ever hear me complain?”
“No.”
“It’s ‘cause I don’t care. All I care about is you dancin’ with me. Now, come on.” The moment her stubbornness appears to be swaying, I add, “For me?”
Abby gives me a small glare before caving. She drops her hand into mine and the two of us start moving along to the music. At one point, I convince her to let me twirl, dip, and kiss her. The execution is flawless and filled with so much fun she begs for us to do it again. She stumbles, primarily from being over excited, but finds her footing to have us perform the move smoothly again. For almost an hour we dance, laugh, and kiss between singing along to the catchy tunes. When the moment unfortunately arrives for me to have to return to the booth, I stuff down my annoyance with having to be separated and apologize we aren’t getting more time together for the night. Abby in response surprises me by volunteering to hang out with us. She insists she’ll probably tank our sales with her snippiness, but wants there to be no doubt she supports me in my every endeavor. The action swells my chest to the point of bursting. Not sure how I got this lucky to have a woman like Abby, but I do know, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her.
Blake snakes his arms around my waist from behind and lowers his lips to my neck for the fifth time during our stroll back to our hotel.
As nervous as I was about the concert and the dress, I was even more worried I was going to embarrass him while he was working. Surprisingly, the complete opposite happened. My crass attitude was well welcomed by most of the drunken college kids and for those who didn’t appreciate it, his charming smile was there to soothe them over like some well-cooked up scheme. They ended up closing earlier than anticipated due to being out of product. Blake called it a victory and the two employees who had been working closest with him insisted we join the crowd while they cleaned up. We took our time walking the beach, the music far from mellow, but the moment perfect. He told me a bit more about the jobs he had before working with his brother and I hung onto every word. Blake’s not only more open than me, he’s more interesting. He’s had exploits. He’s had hilarious drunken adventures. Embarrassing moments from antics backfiring. He’s lived his life. And as much enjoyment as he’s getting from being a part of mine as I try to venture out, part of me feels like he should be with a woman more experienced. In all departments.
He drags my earlobe between his teeth and my breath is passionately bereft.
“My second favorite sound you make,” he whispers in my ear.
I hit him with a heated look over my shoulder. “What’s the first?”
He gives me a predatory smirk, slips his fingers, under my dress and gives my clit the lightest rub.
Helplessly, I brace myself against him as I whimper, “Blake…”
“That one.”
My body makes a feeble attempt to push him away. “Pain in the ass...”
Blake doesn’t bother arguing. Instead he removes his touch all together and waits for me to open the door to the beach suite he rented for the weekend. The moment I open the door my expression shifts to one of surprise. The white rose petal path perks my curiosity while Blake remains silent. My intrigue leads me to follow it while he lingers behind, leaned against the wall. Our bed is sprinkled with them as well as the white cushioned couch beside the balcony doors. On the small coffee table are a vase of white roses and a bottle of sparkling water chilling in an ice bucket. I let my eyes grab a glimpse of the heart shaped chocolate strawberry cheesecake on the table before I turn back around to him with my jaw on the floor.
Unable to question with words I motion my hand around.
“Happy anniversary,” he says, sliding a hand into his khaki shorts pocket.
“That’s not until tomorrow.”
Blake gives me a small smile. “It’s after midnight. Happy anniversary.”
With a shake of my head, I declare, “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I did.” The correction closes my lips. “It’s been the best four months of my life. It deserves to be celebrated.”
It does. And I was actually ahead of him with an idea on how to make it significant. The moment he suggested a beach weekend getaway my brain went to the place it has been dwelling over the past month ceaselessly. When. When is the right time to take the next step? How? Do we talk about it first? Do we plan an entire weekend around it? Thankfully, Dana did what a best friend does, took me to lunch, forced a shot of whiskey down my throat for courage, and dragged me to the lingerie store. She explained how it’s best to let everything unfold naturally, but maybe bring something to initiate the idea this time will be different than the others. If I’m honest with myself, I wanted us to get to this point about a month ago, but our schedules clashing made it difficult. It didn’t seem right. After seeing this? After dancing to some rock band that had a violinist? Most importantly, after letting it naturally flow from his lips how he loves me even though we’re not having sex, the timing is perfect.
“I’m gonna freshen up,” I announce softly.
Blake’s face frowns. “Angel-”
“Patience babe…”
He grins at the pet name.
Also a random accident. We were just in the kitchen one day and I asked him to hand me a pot with the name on the end. He got so excited and turned on by it, he plopped me on the counter to feast on me as a pre-dinner treat. I know he prefers it to Tiny Dancer, but he secretly loves them both because he knows no one else in my life has ever been given a nickname.
I slip away into the bathroom where I already have the lingerie waiting. The change into it is quick, but the confidence to strut out in it, is not. For a few longer breaths than intended, I stare at my own reflection, impressed by the changes my figure has made, yet still terrified it’s not enough. I give my hair a ruffle and command myself to let go of my inhibitions. Blake’s never complained about my body. He’s never complained about having to wait for sex. He’s never complained about anything other than me worried about what other people think. I am sexy and it’s time I get comfortable acting like it.
With my head held high, I walk out of the bathroom in a white baby doll top and matching panties.
Blake’s jaw hits the floor.
His speechless reaction typically causes me to clamor up, but I make a conscious effort to fight against it. I pause, my body across from where he is sitting on the edge of the bed and allow for him to do with his eyes all the things I’m hoping he does with his hands.
Finally, he croaks, “Damn…”
A teasing smirk crosses my lips. “Poetic.”
He lightly chuckles easing a bit of the tension settled in my shoulders. “Angel, the words do not exist for how fucking amazing you look.” The compliment erases the rest. “You didn’t have to buy this to impress me…”
“And you didn’t have to decorate our room to impress me.” Blake prepares to argue and I blurt out, “Besides, I wanted you to remember our first time together and not have it blur with all the other women you’ve slept with.”
Regret on the execution of the sentence is immediate.
Yeah. Could’ve phrased that better. A lot better. Why the hell do I get so thoughtless when I’m uncomfortable? Why was that never a skill I bothered correcting?
I expect his expression to harden yet it does the unexpected and softens. “Let me start by saying you could never and will never blur with my past, Angel. You are one of a kind and there isn’t a single minute of the day I could ever forget that.” His hands fly to my hips and he pulls me down to a straddling position. “And there is no pressure to do this tonight. I didn’t do all this or say I love you, so you would have sex with me.”
Unlike him I let my irritation show. “I never accused you of either of those things.”
His mouth twitches to fight.
“I came with the lingerie, Blake. Before I saw this. Before you said you loved me and then bailed before I could say it.”
Blake’s brown eyes fill with astonishment. “
You love me too?”
“Of course I love you too!”
Realizing this night is not at all the romantic one I had cooked up in my mind thanks to an uninvited slew of chick flicks from Dana, I do the least sexy thing possible. I start laughing. It doesn’t take long for Blake to join in on the action. The two of us unleash wave after wave until my side begins to hurt.
At that point, I try to steady my breathing, and shake my head. “I ruined this.”
He pushes my hair behind my ear, still smiling. “No. You made it us.”
There’s no more conversation. No more arguments. No more hesitation. Blake’s mouth melds against mine, and he holds me closer. Our tongues melt against one another and feverishly fight for dominance. The unusual passion over who rules the situation ignites an animal response in him. He groans harshly and tightens his grip. I whimper from the change in pressure, but he doesn’t back down. His tongue battles harder until he has the control over the situation he wants. Enslaved by the intoxicating efforts of his kiss, I submit to every touch he delivers to my body. Blake’s fingers gently graze my chest, lightly toying with my hardened nipples. He drops his efforts to them, imprisoning one while his hands untie the string that’s keeping the material blocking his way in place. Mere seconds after it falls, he tugs it out of his way to properly bathe the nub with his warm tongue. My eyes fall closed, and I arch into the sucking motion. His cock thumps between my thighs reminding me of the life altering transition that lies ahead.
