Soaked (The Water's Edge #2) (20 page)

BOOK: Soaked (The Water's Edge #2)
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I tore off another bite, barely chewing it before I swallowed it. My movements were stiff, jerky. Fucking Asher. Fucking Aubrey.

And, hell, while we’re at it—fucking West. Why couldn’t he have been just some normal guy trying to get his shit together? Instead of being practically island royalty? Even if it was a title he didn’t embrace. Maybe then, none of this would matter. Or at least, not as much.

“You’re nuts.”

I whipped my head to glare at Theo. “Excuse me?”

“You. Are. Nuts,” he repeated, enunciating each word slowly, and pointed at me for emphasis. “Do you really think West gives a shit about any of that? That any guy who’s gone to the lengths he has would? You could try giving the guy a little credit. Give him a chance to make up his own damn mind instead of you trying to do it for him.”

“I’m just trying to be honest with myself. And do the right thing, even if he doesn’t see it.”

“Since when is breaking the guy’s heart ever the right thing to do?” I started to protest, but Theo waved my words away. “Okay, okay, okay. I’m not saying West is perfect. That he didn’t make some missteps along the way. The dude definitely could’ve communicated better, and I don’t know what the fuck to tell you about those pictures in his room—but I know him. And I’ve never seen him this way over a girl before. Not until you.” Theo took another doughnut, biting into the soft pastry. He wagged it at me and talked around a mouthful of sugar. “You need to give him a chance. You owe it to him and you owe it to yourself. Don’t screw yourself out of the best thing that might ever happen to you.”

I bit my lip, my eyes hot and stinging at his words. Damn it with all the tears the last few days! I pretended the wind kicked some sand up, and surreptitiously wiped at my face.

Maybe Theo was right. I needed to find West.

And have a seriously long overdue conversation with the man I couldn’t get off my mind.

Or out of my heart.

 

 

I COULDN’T FIND
him.

Not at the Wreck. Not at the beach house he shared with his brother, Wyatt. Not at the marina. Although, the charter fishing boat he owned and captained, the
Vitamin Sea,
was missing from its usual spot at the dock.

I wanted to find him in person.

The stuff I wanted—no,
needed
—to say, it wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted to deliver over text, or a cut-off voicemail message.

I wanted to see his face when I said the words. Touch his skin. Hear his reply. Maybe even jump in his arms.

And I couldn’t do any of that through electronics.

I glared at the empty expanse of water where his boat normally bobbed. The ocean, my eternal nemesis, had stolen West from me, whisked him out of my reach. With a sigh, I left the little present I’d brought along. I tucked it under the edge of the heavy-duty, two-inch rope that wrapped around one of the dock pilings, and prayed it wouldn’t blow away before he found it. It was the first paper airplane I’d ever made for
him.
The folded design was pretty basic, nothing like some of the intricate ones he’d crafted for me in the past. And the message was short. Only three words.

I miss you.

But they cut to the heart of what I wanted him to know until we could meet face-to-face.

That night, I tossed and turned for hours, restless to my core from the unfinished business I had with West. I wanted us to hash things out so we could move forward, whether that meant together or separately. My mind was adrift with memories of us—good memories. I’d pushed the bad from my head for now, choosing to believe that we’d earned this chance at happiness together.

Aubrey wouldn’t tear us apart. Or Asher.

Or my own fucking insecurities.

Now, if I could just find the man haunting my thoughts and dreams, maybe I could finally find some peace.

I didn’t know what time it was when the bed dipped beneath the weight of his body settling behind me, but the stars had been out for hours, and silver slices of moonlight through the wooden blinds made stripes across my patchwork quilt. Heat from his bare chest warmed me through my thin tank top, my back arching to meet him, nipples already hard and aching. I started to turn, but his arm slid around my stomach and tightened, holding me in place. His citrus-and-salt scent surrounded me, welcoming me home.

A sense of peace flowed through me. A feeling of completeness. My bed didn’t seem so empty anymore.

“No. Just like this.” His lips brushed my ear as he spoke the words and my whole body shuddered.

Biting my lip, I ran my hand over his arm, loving the way his corded muscles rolled and flexed under my palm and his sun-bleached arm hair tickled. He groaned softly and flexed his hips forward until he was flush with my ass, his arousal nestled against me. I pushed back against him without thinking, just wanting to get closer to him.

Warm lips teased my ear and then meandered down my neck, nibbling and sucking, a trail of goose bumps lingering in their wake. My spine undulated beneath his teasing touch. Part of me loved it when he took it slow, but the other part of me wanted to be taken, fast and hot and hard and
now.
I snaked my arm between us and gripped him, squeezing and stroking along his considerable length once, twice.

“Fuck.” He hissed, reaching down to cover my fingers with his own, tightening my grip. He bucked his hips and groaned low against my shoulder, before pulling both of our hands away from his throbbing cock. “I won’t last if you keep that up. I’ve missed you too much.”

His teeth sunk into my shoulder without warning and I gasped, squeezing my eyes closed in surrender.
Yes!

He slid his callused hand under the hem of my shirt, stroking the soft skin of my stomach before inching higher. His thumb brushed the underside of my breast, and I squirmed within his embrace, eager for him to continue its upward journey.

I murmured his name, a feverish plea for more.

“I’ve got you, Sadie. And I’m not letting go again.” His husky words melted me. All that was left was the pool of desire he created.

He cupped my breast, and I was happy for once that my B-cups weren’t any larger. I filled his hand perfectly, my sensitive flesh responding to every stroke of his sea-roughened palm. I copied his move from earlier, covering his fingers with my own, making him squeeze me harder, give me more.

“Mmmm, impatient?” Laughter lurked in his teasing words.

“For you? Always.” Admitting that didn’t make me feel weak like I thought it might. Instead, I felt freed. Lighter. I rolled my hips against his shaft, backing up my words with action.

When he let go of my chest I wanted to cry out from the loss, but he moved quickly, pushing my back flat against the mattress and making himself at home between my parted thighs. Stitches ripped in my tank top, he tore it off me so fast. My underwear disappeared in the same fashion.

And I fucking loved it.

When the heat of his mouth settled over one nipple and his fingers pinched the other, I almost came unglued and arched wildly into his touch, my mouth opened in a silent scream.
Yes yes yes yes yes!

My nails scratched erratic lines up his back, wrenching a muffled curse from West, and I clutched at his hair. It’d grown out some and was just long enough for me to grip now. The scruff on his jaw added another layer of roughness to his caress as his tongue swiped at my pebbled bud, sucking it hard between his firm lips.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, digging my heels into the small of his back, and panted like the bitch in heat I was at the moment. He surrounded me, covered me, and I never wanted him to leave.

He switched sides, his sharp teeth nipping at the other peak just to the edge of pain before soothing the sting with his tongue, then starting the process over. His other hand squeezed and molded my swollen flesh, his fingers teasing the already sensitized nipple he’d left behind.

My head thrashed against the pillow and my hips jerked helplessly against his length of his cock where it slid along my wet seam. He rubbed against me, coating himself in my slickness, the broad head of his arousal bumping into my clit on occasion, stealing a sharp cry of bliss from me each time he did.

I pushed on his shoulders, and he took the hint, licking his way down my stomach, stopping only to explore my hipbone, before following the dip inward on a beeline to the small bundle of nerves that so desperately wanted his attention. Without preamble, he latched on, sucking my clit like it was sweet, sweet candy and he couldn’t get enough.

My eyes shot open at the initial stroke of his tongue, then slowly drifted closed again, my hips matching the rhythm he set with his mouth. He lifted my thighs over his shoulders and buried his face between my legs, feasting on me like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d had seconds or thirds. My breathing turned ragged, catching as the tension built higher within me.

“West!” Two long fingers buried themselves in me, twisting and curving to seek the one spot guaranteed to curl my toes.

Was there anything more erotic than a man bent on pleasing a woman with every ounce of concentration he had? The sight of him, tongue slipping out to tease, hand thrusting, shoulders bunching, his dark hair between my fingers—it was almost enough to send me over the edge.

My hips bucked when his fingers caressed the most sensitive spot inside me, and everything tightened in response. I bit my lip, and fought the tide rising within me threatening to crest. I never wanted this feeling that zinged up my spine and built higher and higher to ever end. As if he knew what I was doing, he doubled his efforts, his fingers pumping in and out of me, the smell of my musky arousal filling the air, and his tongue trying out a new tempo. The unfamiliar roughness from his scruffy chin brought a surprising new element to the act, one I thoroughly enjoyed. I rocked higher, needing just a bit more, and he sucked hard, swirling his tongue at the same time.

It was as inevitable as a wave crashing onto shore. I peaked, screaming his name, pressing him to me as I rode out my orgasm. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow. When it got to be too much, and I weakly pushed him away, he rose over me, fingers weaving with mine, and slid inside with one sure thrust, his firm lips capturing mine at the same time.

The solid weight of his chest crushing my breasts anchored me to the moment, and brought me back down from the clouds I’d been floating in. He demanded my attention, here, now. All of me, stretched out under all of him. The urgency of his movements told me he wasn’t done with me yet, and a delicious shiver ran down my spine. I moaned as I rubbed my toes against his calves, unable to get close enough.

While his arms pinned mine above my head and our hips dueled, his wicked mouth claimed me. Marked me. Devoured me. And I surrendered, my body more than happy to be owned by his.

His tongue licked deep, seeking mine in a frenzied dance, then retreated to trace my bottom lip. I’d forgotten the thrill that came from just kissing him. That slide of lips and clash of teeth and the lingering taste of myself on his tongue and the way he barely paused to steal a breath before coming back for more, like any second apart was too long.

My senses were overwhelmed in the best way and I clung to him as we moved together. His chest rubbed my tender nipples as he rocked above me, sinking to the hilt with each plunge. I followed his lips where they led and met his hips with my own and when a second orgasm began to rise even as the first still retreated, I gripped his tight ass and moved faster, chasing it.

He tore his lips from mine and buried them against my damp neck, sucking the soft skin just below my ear.

“Sadie.” He chanted my name as his motions lost finesse, his coordination forgotten as he sought his own release.

And then he froze, taut as an arrow, the ecstasy written in the pinch of his brows and open mouth and slack jaw. He pumped softly a few more times, before slipping a finger between us and flicking my clit, sending me overboard with him.

I had no doubt my nails left crescent-shaped indents behind, one hand clutching his nape, the other his shoulder blade.

He sank onto me, and his weight should have smothered me, but I loved his heavy solidness along my hypersensitive skin after I came apart so hard. I sighed with contentment when he nuzzled farther into the crook of my neck, his dark scruff tickling me. My hands roamed his broad back, happy just to feel all that hot flesh, to stroke it and have his muscles respond to the caress.

His arms stole around me, shifting to hold his bulk so he didn’t crush me. His softened member was still in me, still connecting us.

“I love it when I come to your bed, and you smell like that watermelon shampoo you use, but then we do this,” he paused to roll his hips against mine, “and you smell like
us
instead.”

“You like us?”

“No. I
love
us.”

A beeping sounded in the background, soft but insistent. I ignored it. There were more important things we needed to worry about.

“West, I need to tell yo—”

He lifted his head up and squinted into the pale light of dawn beginning to fill the room.

BOOK: Soaked (The Water's Edge #2)
11.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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