by Smith, CP
Good to know I’m not in this alone
THAT MORNING SEEMED like a lifetime ago. After years of dealing with my father and the hurt he’d caused me, I’d still been surprised and ashamed of his behavior. It had been a long time since he’d brought me low, but thanks to Joe’s strength, I was standing on firmer ground. We’d left Folly Beach right after our showdown and subsequent tumble between the sheets. Joe was hell-bent on putting distance between my father and our final destination: The Outer Banks in North Carolina.
When he told me where we were headed, I immediately made a phone call to a good friend. She and her family had a cozy hideaway on the Outer Banks, specifically Cape Hatteras, a low-key stretch off the long barrier island that skirted the North Carolina coast. Cape Hatteras was void of large franchises and high-rises, as was most of the Outer Banks. If you wanted food, you ate at quaint pubs and restaurants in one of the many villages along the coastline. You could spend days in Hatteras with nothing but a good book and not be bored because of the peacefulness and lack of activity that surrounded you. The narrow stretch of coastline went on for miles without a single building in some places. Just sand and sea. But the villages along the coastal banks had plenty of shopping and recreations to keep you from getting bored if lazy days in the sun weren’t your thing.
One of my favorite activities on the Outer Banks was horseback riding on the shores near sunset. I didn’t know if Joe rode, but I was determined to do so while we were there.
I pointed to the three-story, stilted beach house that abutted the ocean. Decks on every level, the shake-shingled home lacked nothing, and the stretch of island Beachcombers, my friend’s name for her vacation home, sat on had very few cottages nearby. The closest neighbor was a good distance away, so we were virtually alone. My friend, Mayra, always kept a stocked house since they spent most of the summer there. But she and her husband were currently in Italy touring, so I knew the house would be open. One call to her housekeeper, Livy, who’d taken care of Mayra and her family for going on twenty years, explaining about my need for escape from my father—who she knew all too well and despised—and I had the location of the spare key and the security code with instructions to use anything in the home we needed.
When I climbed off the bike, I couldn’t stand upright. Joe might have made me feel twenty again, but my body didn’t agree. We’d been on the road for more than seven hours, stopping for the bathroom as needed, and food, of course, but no matter how young I felt in my head, my body was screaming at me.
I glanced up at all the stairs we had to climb to get to the main level of the house and inwardly groaned. Arching my back, I chuckled when my ankles, knees, and hips popped at the joints.
Strong hands rested on my shoulders as I stretched out my back, kneading the muscles there.
“Sore?” a warm voice echoed in my ear.
“Remember when I said I felt twenty again? It’s a lie.”
Joe chuckled low and kept kneading my shoulders. His hands were like vise grips, applying pressure just where I needed it.
“You keep doin’ that, and I’ll fall to my knees and worship the ground you walk on,” I teased.
His hands jerked at my statement and he muttered, “Jesus,” under his breath.
I didn’t understand his reaction at first, then I thought about what I’d said and felt a blush grow up my cheeks. In my fifty-some-odd years, I’d only had a handful of lovers. And the last one was ten years ago. I was picky about who I let into my life, and since my father constantly pushed men at me who he thought were an ideal match for an Armstrong woman, there weren’t many who got in there. I never trusted their motives. And none made my blood burn with absolute want that I felt comfortable sharing that intimacy with them. I wouldn’t commit the act of fellatio with just anyone. To me, it was too intimate an act for a casual romp. I may tease and advise the Wallflowers regularly about how to deal with their men, but I’d been raised to hold out for a ring, as nineteenth century as that sounded, and parts of that advice had stuck with me. Eunice and I may have left behind most of the rules we were forced to live by, but they’d been engrained in our psyches for so long, some of them were hard to shake. But now I was with a man who made my body quake. Whose very touch shot straight between my legs in a way I couldn’t ignore, and that made my heart rate increase tenfold. The thought of driving Joe wild with my mouth tingled delightfully between my legs, and I found myself leaning back into his chest. “Just pointin’ out you’re good with your hands,” I breathed shakily. “Among other things.”
Those strong hands slid down my arms until they reached my waist, then he grabbed my waist and pulled my hips into his. I could feel the evidence of his arousal against the small of my back. “We better get you inside. You need to soak in a hot tub.”
I nodded slowly. A soak sounded divine.
I started to move away from Joe, but my feet left the ground in a whoosh when he lifted me into his arms and headed for the staircase. I may have gasped when he bumped me higher into his arms, but I knew he wouldn’t drop me. Smiling like a giddy schoolgirl, I leaned over when we came to the gate, which led into the tiny yard out front, and opened it for Joe. He kicked it closed with his foot, then bound up the flight of stairs like I weighed nothing. This show of brute strength was impressive, even for a younger man. So much so, I felt like fanning my face as any good Southern belle would in the face of all his manliness. When he set me down so I could locate the key to the front door, I decided to go with my instincts and drawled softly, “My, but you’re strong,” while I fanned my face and batted my eyes.
A slow grin pulled across his mouth, and he shook his head like he thought I was cute.
I allowed it since I was going for cute.
Mayra’s beach house wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. The bedrooms were on the top floor, with the middle level housing the kitchen and living room. On the street level was a good-sized family-slash-game room with everything you could want for entertainment. Including a seventy-two-inch flat-screen TV. When Joe laid eyes on it while we toured the house to get the lay of the land, he mumbled, “Jesus, who needs a screen that big?”
That surprised me since Joe was as manly as they came, and everyone knew men liked sports. And sports on a huge screen would be the ultimate.
“You’re not into sports?” I questioned.
He stared at the TV a moment longer then muttered, “Rather have music playing while I get shit done than sit my ass on a couch on my day off.”
“But you’re from the South. And you’re a man,” I pointed out rather lamely.
He looked down at me, and his lips twitched. “All my life.”
“And you don’t like football?”
A grin spread across his mouth. “Like it. Watch it on occasion. But I’d still rather get shit done than sit my ass on a couch.” He glanced at the wall where the TV hung, all seventy-two gigantic inches of it. “Someone’s compensating.”
I thought about Mayra’s husband. Theo was five foot eight, at most. Mayra stood five foot two on a good day, like me, so Theo’s height didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Then I looked at the gigantic TV. Maybe it did!
Joe stepped to the French doors that led out to the beach, stretching out as far as the eye could see. He looked back at me, then jerked his head toward the surf to the right of the house. “They fish right from the beach here.” I looked over his shoulder and saw an old man up the beach with a pole buried in the sand like a tiki torch.
“Do you fish?”
“I do if you’ll cook it.”
I considered that and wrinkled my nose. “I’ll cook it if you skin it, fillet it, and dispose of the guts where I can’t see them.”
He grinned like he thought I was cute again and hooked an arm around my neck, jerking me into his body. “I’ll gut them if you keep me company on the beach . . . in your bikini . . .”
My lips twitched. “Deal.”
Joe’s eyes dropped to my mouth then back to my eyes.
“Tub first.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, gathering my courage. I was going to try my hand at being a seductress. I was sure I didn’t have to work too hard to convince Joe to join me in the tub, but being wild and carefree with a man was new to me. I stepped back with what I hoped was a sexy, flirty smile and drew my T-shirt over my head, drawling out on a breathy voice, “Wash my back?”
I didn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, I turned my back on him and swung my T-shirt over my shoulder, then headed for the stairs with an extra sway in my hips.
When I reached them, I looked over my shoulder. Joe was still standing where I left him, but his eyes were trained on my posterior. When his attention slowly made its way up my form, I winked at him, then turned and flew up the stairs. I laughed when I heard a growl and quickening footfalls in my wake. Once at the top, I turned to find him stalking me like a predator, the hard lines of his body poised for an attack, and my heart began to beat wildly in anticipation. My skin seemed to tighten and tingle better than the most expensive lotions, while my breath shortened with expectation. This was what real lust felt like, I realized. I’d never experienced it in my life until Joe. It was addictive and intoxicating. More so than any drug or the finest alcohol.
Whoever said passion was for the young got it wrong. Dead wrong. Passion was for anyone brave enough to experience it and smart enough to hold on to it. And I intended to hold on with my dying breath. This is what I’d missed because of my upbringing. Because I’d been too guarded to let a man in. My blinders were off now, and I planned to race toward it with wild abandon. My father be damned.
My plans for seduction disappeared the moment I caught the look on Joe’s face as he climbed the stairs behind me. He looked intense. His hands fisted and contracted with each step, his jaw ticking, his eyes were hooded, full of lust. He seemed part panther, dark and foreboding, or any another equally dangerous animal that circled its prey. I knew with one look I was no longer the aggressor but the hunted. I might have felt overwhelmed in the presence of all that testosterone if I hadn’t already made love to him. But I knew without pause he would never hurt me.
I waited for him to catch me at the top of the stairs rather than fleeing. The moment he grabbed my waist and jerked my body into his, I started walking backward with him while I peeled the clothes from his body. When we reached the second flight of stairs that led to the bathroom, I jumped up and straddled his waist, burying my face in his neck while he climbed. He tasted like sweat and salt from our ride up, but he also smelled like a man: musky and delicious.
When he stopped next to the large whirlpool tub, I released my legs and slid down his body, not stopping until I’d reached my knees. I looked up at him and saw his eyes were smoldering with want. That was all the motivation I needed to reach up and pop the button on his jeans. With shaking hands, I released his heavy shaft from the confines of his denim and licked my lips to wet them. Joe groaned deep in his throat when I leaned forward and swiped the tip of his manhood. This was the most erotic thing I’d ever done, and it excited me down to my core to see if I could make him come undone.
The moment I closed my lips around his thickening girth, his hips jerked and he surged forward. I moaned in return at the taste of him. I’d read enough books to know to guard my teeth and hollow out my cheeks, so I did this to spectacular results. I felt him shudder underneath my hands, which only served to embolden me further. Soon I had a rhythm that made his breath catch, but it didn’t last long. In one swift move, I wasn’t kneeling on the floor but was seated on the counter, with my jeans gone and Joe buried deep inside me.
I held on to his backside while he pounded into me. His low grunts echoing in my ear drove me to the breaking point until my back arched and I let go, allowing the beauty of the feelings he created in my body to fill me up until they were spilling over. It had never felt like this with anyone. Like an invisible thread tethered us together so we could feel what the other was experiencing. And when Joe let go and spilled inside me, it felt like the heavens opened up because it triggered another release in me that I felt straight in my bones.
It was devastating.
Otherworldly.
Beautiful.
“Joe!” I gasped weakly as my atoms seemed to split in two.
“Again,” he ordered in my ear.
My head fell back on my shoulders and hit the mirror with a thud. I opened my eyes and watched as he rolled his hips, even though he’d just come inside of me. He should have grown soft with his release, but evidence was suggesting he hadn’t.
I started to say I was undone; I needed time to recover even if he didn’t, but he raised his hand and found the core of me and rolled his thumb over my nerves until I was grinding on him again. Then he reached up and jerked my head to his and brutally kissed me, revving my body up even more. I knew then if he stopped, I’d die of unfulfilled release, so I grabbed his firm bottom and drove him in deeper. That’s when I climaxed a third time. The shock of it was so sharp, I wondered if my heart could handle it while I decided that was the only way to die.
I melted into goo on the countertop upon completion while Joe slowly glided in and out of me as I came down from a galaxy far, far away. When my head lolled back and I opened my eyes, he was watching me with a smug look on his face.
“I’d smack you if I still had the ability to move,” I said sleepily.
His smugness grew before he slid out of my body and turned to the bathtub. I considered staying where I was. I was pretty sure I could sleep there if I tried, but Joe, ever the man who took control of situations, lifted me from my throne and deposited me into the filling tube.
“I might drown if you leave me alone.”
He stepped into the tub and sat behind me, chuckling low. The feel of it vibrating against my back was sigh-worthy.
I leaned back against his chest once he was settled and closed my eyes while the water continued to fill the tub.
“Joe?”
He mumbled, “Hmm,” while he reached for the bodywash and poured a good deal in his hand. I watched with fascination as those strong hands rubbed together and created a lather. Hands I might have walked away from, thanks to my father. That belonged to the most interesting man I’d met in my life. A man who had handled me with care from the moment he stepped foot onto my porch the day before.
My bottom lip began to tremble at the thought, so I turned my head so he wouldn’t see. “I dreamed about you for the past year as well.”
His hands paused their exploration of my body, and he grabbed my chin and turned my head so he could look at me. I rolled my lips to hide their tremble, but tears had started to build in my eyes and gave me away. A traitorous drop slipped from the corner of one of my eyes, and he watched it with fascination before he looked back at me. “Good to know I’m not in this alone,” he whispered thickly, then leaned in and brushed my lips so devastatingly sweet, if I hadn’t been a strong woman, I would have bawled like a baby. At least being an Armstrong was good for something. I’d learned how to avoid looking like a sniveling idiot from an early age.
“So, about that fishin’?” I asked, threading my fingers through his to cover up the fact they were shaking. “If I agree to fish with you and showin’ off my womanly curves to God and country, then you have to go horseback ridin’ with me at sunset.”
His brows pulled together, and his eyes lost their focus at my compromise. “I’m rethinking the whole bikini idea,” he grumbled when his eyes cleared.
“Does that mean you won’t ride a horse with me?”
His head cocked to the side in confusion. “I grew up in a farming town until the city invaded and turned it into a mini metropolis.”
I tried to follow that logic. “So, does that mean you’ll ride horses with me?”
“If you want to ride, we’ll ride.”
I was still confused. “Then why are you rethinkin’ goin’ fishin’?”
He scowled again. “I’m not rethinking fishing; I’m reth
inking you in a bikini. Not big on other men looking at what belongs to me.”
I blinked then rolled my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing. I settled back against his chest and relaxed while his hands got back to the business of washing me thoroughly. If Calla had told me Devin was beating his chest about her wearing revealing clothing, I would have advised her to put her foot down. Now that the shoe was on the other foot, I was finding I didn’t mind so much. Having someone that protective of me didn’t bother me at all; it made me sigh.
_______________
“You’re on the Outer Banks?”
Joe closed the door to the bedroom so he wouldn’t disturb Bernice. After they’d relaxed in the tub, she’d fallen fast asleep on the bed while he’d been downstairs running his clothes through the washing machine. Her friend had plenty of clothes Bernice could wear, but her man was shorter than Joe. Nothing would fit. Not even his T-shirts. The only thing Joe could find to wear was swimming trunks. With fucking fish on them. Which was why he was currently washing his clothes. Joe didn’t do fish. Especially not bright pink, orange, and purple fish.
“Yeah, November,” Joe answered, heading down the stairs for a beer he’d seen in the fridge, “Cape Hatteras.”
His niece knew he’d headed to Tybee. He’d told her about Devin’s visit and the fact Bernice was single. She’d smiled knowingly, stating, “I knew it. No one looks at a man like she looked at you if they’re in a solid relationship.”
“Why’d you leave Tybee?” she asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“Good thing the girls are out with Asher, then.”
Joe popped the top on a bottle of beer and took a long draw. The kitchen, like his swimming trunks, was decorated in fish. He scanned the open floor plan. More fish. Fish pillows. A throw blanket. Even the coffee table was painted a soft blue with fish stenciled on it.
“These people really like fish,” Joe mumbled.
“Joe!”
He sat in an overstuffed chair covered in lobster upholstery and tuned back into his niece. “Her father’s an asshole with a god complex. Thinks he can rule everyone, including his daughters, and he doesn’t like me. So, we left town for a while.”
