Then Summer Came (13 page)

“I’m sorry.”  The words seemed forced, like he almost wasn’t able to say them. 

I inhaled the intense heat between us, and it overcame me.  His familiar mouth so close to mine, the comfort of his lips, and the softness of his kiss was all I could think about.  I moved into him without even thinking, and he sat perfectly still as my lips pressed into his.  I squeezed his hand to my face, and I felt his lips move under mine, just barely.

The kiss was slow and careful, and our tongues had barely dipped into each other’s mouths when he pulled his lips from mine, tilting his forehead into mine.  I could feel my breath ricocheting off of his as we both took ragged breaths. 

“Good night, Lissa.”  His unsteady whisper swept across my lips. 

I nodded against his forehead, and he pulled away and jogged up the stairs. 

I couldn’t believe I’d gotten so caught up in him like that.  He had far more control than I did.  He’d been the one to pull away from me, and though that stung a little, I knew he was only trying to do what I asked. I was certain that he knew I was caught up, and I missed Derek, and that was why he’d bolted; because he knew I didn’t really want what was about to happen.

I laid over into the warmth where he’d been sitting, and I almost wished he would come back downstairs.  Loneliness was not something I enjoyed. 

As the tears prickled and dripped from my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.  My dreams were filled with Derek’s apologies and his excuses, but as mad as I was at him, they were mostly filled with his kisses. 

Chapter Twelve

I stretched and stretched, but I didn’t feel like I was long enough to stretch as far as I needed to.  The morning light was filtering through the blinds that covered the windows; it was still early. 

I picked my phone up and checked the time—7:00 a.m. 

I curled up on the sofa and sat in the silence for a minute.  It'd been weeks since the apartment had been empty, and I suddenly hated the silence.  It was frigid and reminded me of the lonely months before Beck had inhabited Derek's extra bedroom. 

The door knob clicked and Beck came in breathing heavily, sweat dripping, wiping his face with a towel.  He was shirtless, and sweat glistened from his hair to his waistline.  His muscles were tight from his recent workout, and his sweatpants were doing that thing that should be illegal. 

He rubbed the towel over his wet hair and smiled when he saw me.  “I could dance or something, if you like?” he said over heavy breaths.

I shook my head at his arrogant nonsense and tinkered on my phone idly.  At least he didn’t allow it to be awkward, with what happened the night before.

I got to me feet and headed to the kitchen for some water.

“No dance then?” he asked as I passed him, his hands thrown up. 

I walked toward the kitchen and he followed me laughing.  I fixed a glass of water, and when I turned around he was leaning against the counter, staring at me.

“What?” I asked, sipping the room-temperature tap water.

“What, you can drool over me, but I can’t stare at you?”

“It will be such a lovely day when you finally get over yourself.”  I rolled my eyes and downed the water. 

“I’m only kidding, Lissa,” he said, wounded.  “It’ll be just as ‘lovely’ when you’re less sensitive about being teased.” 

I just ignored him.  “What?”  I said when I saw he was still staring.

“Cute pajamas.”

I shook my head and sat the glass in the sink, but I couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hey, they’re playing a few movies downstairs tonight.  Do you want to go down with me?”

“What movies?”

“The Evil Dead movies,” he said, sounding thrilled. 

“Seriously?” I said, dryly.  “Those movies are horrible!  I won’t even watch the new one because they’re so horrible.”

“Oh, come on!”

I laughed.  “Alright, but only the first one.”  He really was trying to keep things from begin awkward.  I guess it didn’t help that I’d kissed him.  The least I could do was participate and be friends.

My phone buzzed and I checked the screen before answering.  “Hello?”

“Hey, babe.  Did you get the flowers?”

“You mean the arrangements that arrived to my grandmother’s funeral
in your place
?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from the question, “Yes, I got them.”

“I’m sorry, baby.  I wanted to be there with you,
for
you, but I couldn’t get away.  Our transfers system crashed, and I spent all night debugging it.”

I just sighed.  I had already heard every excuse he could possibly think of in my dreams—or should I say nightmares?

“I’m sorry, Lis…” was all he seemed to know to say. 

Beck rinsed out his gym bottle and disappeared upstairs. 

“Can we get together to look at some venues?”  I didn’t want to say “It’s okay” or anything else.  I was angry, but I knew that he’d have to go in a matter of seconds, so I thought I’d ask while I had the chance. 

“Walden has my schedule full for the next six days, Lis.  Maybe you could take your mom or Emily with you?  I’m sure I’ll love whatever location you ladies decide on.”

“I thought we could go together and—”

“Lis, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.  I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

I couldn’t help but stew on it.  Was it a crime for me to have wanted him at my grandmother’s funeral?  Was it awful of me to want him to be involved in our wedding? 

I looked out the window at the Sunday streets of LA.  No one usually went down to the pool on Sundays until after noon or later. 
I could use some sun bathing
, I thought. 

I popped the tags on my new swimsuit—despite Derek’s request—and tied it around my neck and pulled a dress over it.  Derek was too busy to even talk, and Emily wasn’t answering her phone, so I was going to swim.  I headed downstairs, hoping the pool was empty. 

I slipped off my summer dress and tossed it to the side, exposing my favorite new one-piece swimsuit.  It was multicolored, which really complimented my olive complexion.  The back was completely open for prime tanning, and the front was covered accept for the large diamond that was cut out, which accented my hip bones and belly button.  I had to admit:  I looked great in it.  I mean, I worked hard on my stomach and legs, so I was proud to show them off. 

I spritzed on my tanning spray and massaged it in. I drug a lounge chair across the concrete, to the edge of the pool and reclined the headrest back toward the water, enough that I could reach into the water and splash some on me if I felt hot.  The plastic seat of the lounge chair was warm as I nestled into it and relaxed my head back.

I looked upside-down at the pool; the water was still, aside from the pump in the bend of the other end, pumping quietly.  The subtle sound of the water barely moving was calming, and the wind was blowing just enough to keep me cool in the hot, summer sun.

I closed my eyes and almost immediately saw Beck's body.  He was so gorgeous; it made me ache for Derek, and I tried hard to see him as Derek, but my mind was stuck on Beck.  It’d pretty much been that way since we’d slept together.  Not purposely.  The way his body felt pressed into mine was like the feeling you get when you first wake up and the warm mattress is molded around you perfectly; you just don’t want to move, and that’s how it felt with him.  His naked body under my fingertips had left me craving him.  He was hard to shake.  His lips had been on mine too many times, and my mind refused to forget it. 

I could almost feel his hands on me, his lips brushing softly across my stomach, his fingers running up my slippery, oiled sides, his teeth grazing the insides of my thigh.  He had my insides completely knotted up, like a jewelry box drawer full of loose necklaces.  Even just the thought of him touching me made my breath hitch. 

Water droplets rained down onto me, thankfully shaking me from my awful thoughts of my fiancé’s brother. I looked over into the pool to see Beck doing a backstroke, his eyes closed and his…
geez
, he was skinny dipping in Wilshire’s public pool at eight in the morning. 

I turned my face back to the sky and closed my eyes, forcing his naked body from my mind as far as it could go.  He looked like Derek…that’s why I couldn’t seem to keep him off my mind—I recited that in my head a good eighty times.

“You feel better today?” he asked, from somewhere beside me, clearly making a point to be gentle and not make me cry. 

“I feel a lot better,” I smiled and eyed him through my lashes. 

He laid his upper body over the concrete, water dripping off of him in the most hypnotizing way.  “Good,” he said, panting from his swim, “I’m glad.”

“You should be more modest in public pools, don’t you think?” I said as he slid back down into the water.

“There’s no one even down here,” he defended his nude escapades. 

“
I’m
down here,” I pointed out, but without looking at him—in an attempt to appear unaffected. 

“Hm,” he made a sound as if he thought I had a point.  “Well, you can just pretend I’m Derek, like you usually do,” he added and kicked off the side of the pool, backstroking to the other end. 

I repressed a scoff.  I kept my eyes locked shut and my face toward the clouds—I would just ignore him. 

To my surprise, he didn’t say another word about it. I dozed in and out of a much-needed, peaceful nap as he quietly floated around in the water. I was startled out of my nap when I felt wet lips on my neck.  I kept my eyes closed for a minute, faking sleep; I didn't know how to react.  I wanted his lips on me, but I knew that I shouldn’t.   

"Beck," I whispered.  It was supposed to be a protest, but it sounded more like a pleasure call.  "Hey," I said as he continued to ignore me, trailing his mouth across my neck.  His tongue slid over and flicked my ear.  I opened my eyes when I felt his teeth, and I turned my head until we were face-to-face.  He had swum up to where my head met the water, and he was propped up on his elbows, on the edge of the pool. 

I eyed him for a moment, but he leaned back in and nestled his face between my cheek and the chair, and I felt his breath in my ear.  I shivered, and he slid his fingers into my hair and fisted the tresses to hold my head in place. 

"Beck," his name escaped my lips, again, in a whisper; I was
trying
to protest, but I was leaning into his face, cushioning my cheek against his, so it hardly seemed like an objection. 

"What?" he whispered back, straight into my ear.  I moaned, but not on purpose, and he responded by gripping my hair tighter and biting my ear lobe—I shouldn’t have moaned.  What was wrong with me?  A whimper escaped my throat at the feeling of his roughness, and he yanked the lounge chair, its metal legs scraping across the rough concrete, until my head was dangling over the water.  He leaned over me, using the headrest of the chair to mash my face into his as he kissed me softly. His tongue opened my lips and scraped against my teeth as it wiggled into my mouth. His chin brushed against my nose, and water dropped from his hair, pleasantly onto my chest. 

"Beck," I tried, again, between his kisses. 

"Shh," he said against my lips, and I sank into his kiss. I ran my fingers into his wet hair and down to his neck.  Why fight it?  He wanted me, and I felt the same.  I wanted him
badly
. 

He slipped his hands under me, between the chair and my shoulders, and he slid me carefully off the chair backwards, down into the water.  He continued our upside-down kiss as I floated on the sun-warmed surface of the water.  He clutched my face to his, and he spun me so that I was straddling him. 

Derek
, that’s ‘why fight it’, because you’re engaged!  It pinged at me, but his hands slid across my legs and a chill shot through me.  It felt like Derek.  I needed to be with him.  I couldn’t help myself.  I reflexively wrapped my legs around him tightly and my arms around his neck. 

Our kiss had become passionate and hungry, and the pool water tasted good on his lips.  My hands took advantage of his naked body while they had the chance.  He was all I'd been thinking about lately; I'd been craving him like a rare drug—withdrawals and all. 

His fingers slipped under the thin strip of my one-piece bottoms, and he was massaging me and occasionally slipping a finger into me, knowing just where to touch.  I moaned into his mouth, and he bit my bottom lip, sending heat coursing through me.  I could feel his erection under me, and it was hard to focus on anything else.  His mouth slid over my jaw and down to my neck, where he bit me harder. 

"If you tell me to stop, I will," he said against my neck, in a low, sensual, husky voice.  I gasped at how roughly he jerked me against him, and he said it again. "
Tell me now, if you want me to stop
,
Lissa
." 

I knew that I should've pushed him away; I was engaged and
not to him
, but there was no way in hell I was going to tell him no.  I wanted him as badly as he wanted me. 

I thought of Derek, clutched his hair, and buried my face into his neck, reveling in the scent of him; the scent that I couldn’t quite place, but drove me wild.  "Fuck me," I whispered, surprising myself, but not taking the time to care. 

He groaned loudly and yanked at the strip of swimsuit between my legs, and he slammed into me hard, rocking me to my core.  I cried out; it was exactly how I remembered:  full and hot and rough.  He was always so rough with me, and I'd been craving it so much that I couldn't control myself.  Every time I looked at him, every time I was with him. 
No, Derek, I’m craving Derek
, I reminded myself. 

I cried out again, thrusting myself down onto him so quickly the water had begun to bounce around us.  I think it may have crossed my mind once that anyone could walk up and catch us, but he clearly didn’t give a shit and neither did I.

He placed a steady hand at the small of my back and used the other to pull at the strings around my neck, releasing the hold my suit had on me.  He tore it down away from my breasts, and his mouth was all over my slippery, wet chest, while his arms were secured around my waist.  He dove in and out of me until I came, and then I came again, shivering violently against his hold on me, but he didn’t stop.