Soaked (The Water's Edge #2) (28 page)

BOOK: Soaked (The Water's Edge #2)
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Just normal pictures of my day.

But, sure enough, when we Skyped last night and got frisky, and I was seconds away from coming, one hand down my panties rubbing furious circles around my clit and the other holding the phone so I could watch him jack off, he disconnected.

A few minutes later, after he presumably finished taking care of business, he’d messaged me a reminder that sending him dirty pics when he wasn’t there to see me in person was torture and that he hoped I liked a taste of my own medicine.

He had a point. My impending orgasm had fizzled to a lackluster finish without him sharing it with me, and I’d gone to sleep feeling grumpy and out of sorts.

I really hated it when he was right. Not that I’d ever admit to it.

So when Rue had suggested a girl’s night at the Wreck, I’d been happy for the distraction. West wasn’t due back until tomorrow, and I needed something to take my mind off him and all the sex we weren’t having with him gone. But I hadn’t been able to resist sending him one quick photo of me in the strappy coral sundress I was rocking. I’d lifted one side, showing off a generous slice of thigh, and added the simple message
hurry home.

It’d been three hours and he still hadn’t responded, so I’d pushed him from my mind for now and was focusing on Rue and the fruity goodness of the grog in my cup. My second cup.

“What about you?” I raised my eyebrows expectantly. “What’s going on with you and Grady?”

She rolled her eyes and started to answer when a deep voice from behind me spoke up.

“Excuse me, miss. On a scale of one to American, how free are you tonight?”

I whipped around and eyed the gorgeous man leaning his hip against the bar behind me.

“For you, I’m a damn patriot.” Smiling like the lovesick fool I was at his surprise appearance, I threw my arms around West’s neck and that familiar spark shot down my spine when he pulled me close. He buried his nose in my hair and I felt every muscle in his body relax as he breathed me in.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He pressed a kiss below my ear, and his hand slid lower to cup my ass, snugging me tighter against him.

Rue coughed. “I think I see Theo . . . that way . . . yeah, I’ll be over there.”

I hummed an acknowledgement. Pulling back slightly, I gripped the back on West’s skull, my thumbs resting along his scruffy jawline. “I thought you didn’t need a line.”

He pressed his lips to mine and stole a kiss that managed to take my breath away despite its brevity. “With you? I’m not taking any chances. I even pinned a dollar bill above the bar for the first time last week.”

I squinted at him in confusion, noticing the hint of vulnerability in the flush on his cheeks that I might have dismissed as sunburn if I didn’t know him so well. Scrawled pick-up lines covered the currency tacked above and behind the bar, and, earlier this summer, he’d told me he’d never once added one of his own. My eyes flitted over the bills. “Where?”

“Down here.” He tugged me down to the end of the bar, weaving us past the other patrons, his hand firm on mine the whole time. “Look, right there on the end.” He pointed to a crisp bill, folded in the shape of a paper airplane, tucked along the end of the top shelf. His strong script trailed along one wing.

I drowned.

My eyes flew to his, trying to understand. “You weren’t drowning. You were floating.”

He nuzzled the side of my neck, then dragged his lips up to my ear. “Maybe. But you saved me just the same. I just didn’t realize it at the time.”

I melted into his arms, turning my face until our lips met. He didn’t waste time, tracing the seam until I opened for him, then delved inside to chase my tongue. I gave it to him on a moan and buried my hands in his hair, pulling him closer. His mouth slanted over mine again and again until the catcalls around us filtered through my lust-fogged awareness.

I pulled away slowly, reluctantly. He relaxed his hold until his arms circled my waist loosely, my hips still pressed to his, but allowing some space between our upper bodies. I shook my head to clear it. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you weren’t due back until tomorrow?”

“My client had an emergency back home and had to cut his trip short. And I couldn’t resist a chance to get back to my girl a day earlier.”

I smiled at the way he claimed me as his. Because I was. Totally.

“But how’d you know I was here?”

He smirked. “Was I really supposed to believe you were just gonna hang out at the cottage with Rue wearing this sexy-as-hell little dress?”

Oh yeah. I’d forgotten about that.

I glanced over his shoulder at the exit and he twisted to follow my line of sight. He chuckled and leaned down to press his lips against my forehead. “I like how you’re thinking, but I thought we might hang out here for a bit. I saw the guys over by the games, and I haven’t seen them in a few weeks.” He must have seen my crestfallen expression because he squeezed my hips and bent his head to whisper in my ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of before you fall asleep tonight.”

“You better,” I muttered, slightly mollified.

After helping himself to a longneck from behind the bar, we made our way over to where our cluster of friends were watching a furious game of air hockey between Theo and Wyatt. The boys called out their greetings, and then West rapped on the side of the machine after Wyatt scored a goal amongst the distraction of our arrival.

“Hey, Sadie and I have next game.”

I turned to him, eyebrows raised. “We do?”

“Yup.”

“Are we playing for a certain prize?” I asked suggestively, bumping his hip with mine.

He laughed. “You have no idea.”

After Wyatt squeaked out a narrow victory over Theo, who demanded a rematch later in the evening, we took up our places on either side of the table. A sense of déjà vu washed over me as I remembered the first time we’d played together.

I leaned down as I retrieved the puck from the slot, making sure West was watching. Sure enough, his eyes immediately dropped to the neckline of my dress.

“Ready?”

“Wait. Don’t you want to know the stakes first?”

I cocked my head to the side and blushed. “I mean, are you really gonna just say it in front of all our friends?”

Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, and delicately balanced it along the side of the game. My breath caught and I froze as my eyes ping-ponged between him and the box.

I couldn’t force any words, but my pulse skipped before damn near pounding out of my chest.

Rue, on the other hand, didn’t have the same problem. She went to snatch up to the box to sneak a peek, but West was faster, pinning it to the table with the flat of his palm. “Nope. If she wants to see what’s in this box, she has to win.”

Rue pouted and the comments from the guys grew louder as they punched West on the shoulder and ribbed him for being so cheesy.

I licked my dry lips. “What if I’m not ready to win? What if I’m . . . not good enough to beat you?”

“Mmm, I thought about that.” His face was serious. “If I win, you get this instead.” From his other pocket, he withdrew a key, and placed it on the other side of him from the velvet box. Wyatt was faster than Rue and snagged the key, holding it up to the light.

“What’s this to, bro? It looks like a house key, but it doesn’t look like the one to the beach house.”

“Because it’s not.”

I stared at him in bewilderment. Then what was it for?

“Heads up, Wyatt.” West spoke to his brother but watched me like I was a skittish filly that hadn’t been broke yet. “Consider this my two-week notice. I got a new place closer to the marina.”

Wyatt whistled and put the key back down. “Damn. Is this for real? You’re playing for either a ring or a key?”

West glanced at him briefly and lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “I figure it’s really a win-win situation here.” He tapped the surface of the table with his mallet. “Ready, Sadie?”

Was I ready? Hell, no, I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t been expecting any of this. Wildly, I turned to Rue, who had a huge grin on her face until she cut her eyes to Grady who was standing on the other side of Wyatt, and the smile faltered momentarily. Theo sidled up next to me and nudged me with his shoulder.

“So what’s it gonna be? You aiming to win or lose?”

I lifted the mallet, studying it intently as if it held the answers. “I don’t know.” I placed the puck on the playing field, and drew back, slamming the mallet into the puck and sending it ricocheting across the table, catching West off guard. He scrambled to guard his goal and return the volley. The puck zipped between us, pinging sharply off the bumpers and our mallets. “How about you, West? You looking to win or lose over there?”

“Doesn’t matter to me, baby. Either way, you’re mine.”

He was right. But I hated to lose.

And air hockey was my game.

I wasn’t worried though.

Aubrey was gone. She’d taken a one-way trip to California to visit her cousin.

Asher had taken a plea bargain, making him a registered sex offender and leaving him with a hefty fine and a restraining order against him. He’d also been fired from his dad’s company, and I’d heard from my brother in Nashville that my old assistant had dumped his ass like yesterday’s news.

My photography business had taken off after the release of the Water’s Edge campaign, and Paper Plane Photography was booked solid for the next three months.

And I had a brand new set of sheets, the nicest ones I’d ever had, on my bed.

All the background noise had faded from my life, leaving behind the important stuff.

Work. Friends. This gorgeous island I called home now.

And West. The guy who’d shown me how to trust in love again.

Plus, there were the side benefits.

His fingers.

His tongue.

His cock.

Bending down lower, I wielded my mallet like it was a weapon, intent on scoring, confident of my impending victory. When the buzz of our game reached Hailey across the bar, and she squealed and came running, not stopping until she barreled right into her brother, I saw my chance and took it.

A perfect shot, dead center down the field, straight into his goal. One to zero.

“You’re going down, West.”

“Every night of my life if I’m lucky.”

Yeah, I admit that threw my concentration, when images of him between my spread thighs flooded me, heating me right down to the already damp core. I wasn’t going to last much longer. He’d been gone all week, and I was dying to get him alone to welcome him back properly. The puck bounced off the wall and into my goal, the rattle as it slid home jarring me back to the present.

The score was tied, one to one.

But instead of retrieving the puck, I threw my mallet at Theo, who scrambled to catch it.

West paused, watching me as I made my way down the table until I stood in front of him. Nothing had ever felt more right than standing in front of him in this moment, surrounded by our friends.

“What are you doing? We’re not done.” He pointed to the other end of the table.

“Yes, we are.”

“We are?”

“We are.” I nodded.

“So who’s the winner?”

“It’s a tie. We both won.”

His lips crushed mine as he gathered me in his arms, spinning us around slowly before letting me slide back down his body to the floor, his laughter ringing in my ears and filling my heart. “Yes, we did.”

 

 

Other books by Stacy Kestwick:

 

Wet

 

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Acknowledgements

 

First off, I’d like to thank my husband for tolerating my time spent in author world.

To Erin Noelle, for being not just my best friend, but my critique partner, cheerleader, and general ass kicker, depending on what the situation called for. I haven’t had a friend like you in years (or ever?), and now that I’ve found you, you’re stuck with me. At least until we’re too old to skip.

To my Masta Betas—you’re my #squad. Alison, Allison, Jenn, and Michelle, thank you for accepting me into your fold and partaking in the cheerleading and ass kicking.

To Ashley Jasper, Mariah Rice, and Yessi Smith for keeping it real, chapter by chapter.

An extra special thanks to Alison for listening to me ramble, providing me with links when I got stresed, and being the best damn admin I could’ve ever hoped for. Thank you for doing all the million little things I asked you to do, because it adds up to be a really big deal. If it weren’t for Canada trying to keep us apart, I’m sure we’d be inseparable. Dallas, February, me and you, it’s a date!

To Jill Sava, for keeping it real and telling me what to do—for any given situation. You’re my hero. I can’t wait to meet you in Miami!

To Melissa Petersen, for being the best PA ever, especially when I’m indecisive, which is always, right? Your graphic skills astound me and the fact that you didn’t cuss me out when I sent you 2500 magnets or kill me while designing the banner shows our love is real.

To Hang Le, for knocking this cover out of the park. To Kay Springsteen for polishing my words. To Jenn Van Wyck for finding the rest of my mistakes. And Alison and Lindsay for double and triple checking.

To all the authors out there who taught me something about author world—Erin Noelle, Aly Martinez, Brittainy Cherry, Meghan March, Lex Martin, Rachel Van Dyken, CM Foss, Yessi Smith, Brooke Blaine, Rachel Blaufeld, Ahren Sanders, Geneva Lee, Jessica Prince, Sierra Simone, Emily Snow, Whitney Barbetti—and all the authors in FTN and the Hideout. Y’all are the best!

To Stephanie Rose, for the steady supply of Stephen Amell pics. Don’t stop.

To Hazel James, for sending doughnuts and being awesome. And Ashley Christin for thinking I’m cool. I’m glad someone does.

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