Sex on the Beach (Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Harlequin) (5 page)

Chapter Seven

“Food. Shower. Bed. Not necessarily in that order.”

Amanda’s plan was simple, but it sounded perfect to Jeremy. “Just to clarify, you didn’t really get too much sun, right? That was just to get out of doing group lunch?”

She smirked. “I ought to let you wonder for a while.”

“But you’re not going to?”

“If I
did
get too much sun, would you draw me a cooling bath and bring me sports drinks?”

They were almost to his cottage, and moving at a brisk clip. She didn’t look like she was suffering. “You’d be naked for at least one of those, right? Yeah, I’d probably accommodate you. Quid pro quo, though.”

“There’s always a trade-off. Be warned, though, I’m prioritizing food at the moment.”

“I saw a seafood platter on the room-service menu.”

“Oh, I
love
you.” A second later, she realized what she’d said, and started attempting to backpedal. “I didn’t mean in a
love
way. Just...the seafood. It sounds perfect.”

Squeezing her hand then releasing it to get out his key card, he nodded. “I got that.”

He wanted to say he loved her, too. It was on the tip of his tongue, fighting to get out. But it wasn’t the right time. Not now, when he was walking this tightrope, doing this impossible routine over a chasm of anxiety. Put one foot wrong and it could all come to an abrupt and dramatic end. He thought he might have taken that misstep when he started chatting about the moving bonuses. He had an antidote to that particular poison if he needed it, at least. He just didn’t want to use it until the time was right.

That time wasn’t now. That conversation could wait. Now it was more important to get Amanda into a shower, get the food ordered, set the scene for whatever they were doing here instead of romance.

Amanda had gone straight to the vanity to size up the tiny bottles of hotel shampoo and conditioner. “Okay, I’m going in. If I fall asleep in there, just wake me when the food arrives.”

“Got it.” He stood over her, waiting for her to stand and then pulling her in for a kiss. She took long showers, and he wanted something to last him until he saw her again. He was aiming for short and sweet, but Amanda grabbed his hair and took more. They both loved kissing, had spent many a marathon necking session on the couch, a forgotten movie playing in the background. The long hiatus had created too much edgy need, though, and they hadn’t even begun to bleed off that pure, pent-up sexual energy. When she realized Jeremy was hard, she pulled back with a rueful smile and patted his cheek.

“Later. After the shower. And the food. And possibly the nap.”

“Right. I’ll call room service. Oh, and Amanda?” She turned at the bathroom door, and he smiled, feeling like a hopeless doofus. “I love seafood, too.”

Her expression was hard to read. A half smile, then a wibble, followed by the crooked lip-bite she did when she was trying to order a meal and couldn’t decide what she was in the mood for. No words, though. She bounced on her toes a few times, then slipped into the bathroom, closing the door on him.

Jeremy smacked his forehead repeatedly and scolded himself, even as he picked up the phone and dialed. “Dude.
Dude
. Jesus.
I
love seafood
,
too
, seriously? If you love seafood so much why don’t you marry it?”

“Uh...this is room service?”

“Shit. Sorry, sorry. I was just...talking to somebody. About the seafood platter. Which I’d like to order one of. For two. A big seafood platter for two. Please.”

“Of course, sir.”

Once they’d discussed the salads, the beverages, the question of dessert, Jeremy flopped onto the bed. Almost immediately he sat up and dialed the number again.

“And can I get a Gatorade or Powerade with that? Some kind of
ade?
Any flavor’s fine, but not diet.”

The order duly amended, he resumed his lounging, pondering what the trip had accomplished thus far.

Not much, maybe, by objective standards. But she was here in his room, at least. In his shower. Sharing a meal and hopefully later a bed with him. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than the nothingness they’d had before. Anything was better than that.

Was it really, though? If she hadn’t changed her mind about him by the time this vacation was done, would either of them be better off once they returned to their real lives? Maybe so. Maybe this was closure for them, something they’d both needed. But Jeremy suspected this tryst would only lengthen his recovery time. Make it harder for him to think about moving on, trying to date somebody new. And it was so hard already.

* * *

Amanda emerged from the shower, pink and rosy in a thick hotel robe, moments after Jeremy tipped the room-service waiter.

“Oh my God. That smells amazing!”

“
You
smell amazing. Is that the hotel shampoo?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice stuff.”

The theme of the day seemed to be stopping himself before he blurted out something unhelpful. He nearly said she should consider getting some of the same brand once they got home. Then he remembered they weren’t talking about
after
, and
home
was not a good topic of conversation, and he wouldn’t be around to smell the shampoo even if she did buy it. So he offered her a sports drink, instead. They ate the seafood, every last savory morsel, and chatted about the fish they’d seen that morning, the joys of kayaking, and a hundred other things that weren’t tremendously important. He even let Amanda talk him into eating some of the potato side dish.

Jeremy took his turn in the shower after the last bite of fish was gone. Once he was naked and under the hot spray, he started to think about Amanda, with predictable results. She was naked under that fluffy robe, and he’d left her curled up on his bed reading news feeds on her phone. When he came out of the shower he would show her all the love he couldn’t use words to express.

Perhaps predictably, when he made his triumphal return from the bathroom, the object of his love and lust was fast asleep. Still snuggled in the robe, with a corner of the bedspread flipped up to cover her feet. Rounding the bed, he saw that she had one hand tucked close to her chin...the hand holding the cell phone. She’d fallen asleep reading, it appeared. Jeremy retrieved the hardware and set it on the nightstand before joining her on the bed, carefully working himself into spoon position so as not to wake her. She looked peaceful and happy and like everything he’d ever wanted. Lying down beside her felt like coming home.

He decided not to tell her she’d drooled on her phone.

* * *

Jeremy woke up disoriented. Where were they? When was this? Then he half remembered but thought he must still be dreaming because they’d never gone to Hawaii on a vacation.

They were split-second thoughts, full of memories about the way things had been when they were really together. Painful but telling.

Amanda mumbled something incoherent. She sounded asleep, still. He was pressed against her back, one arm around her, and she was holding on to that arm like it was a teddy bear.

I’ll be your teddy bear.
I
can do that.
I
can be that.
Whatever you need.

But teddy bears were a noble crew, unlike him. Amanda’s robe had come untied while they slept, and fallen open to reveal one of her legs all the way up to the hip. Stealthily, Jeremy slipped his arm from her embrace, freeing his hand to inch the robe back even farther. It was bulky between them, but the visual was worth it. The sweet curve from her knee all the way to her waist, an expanse of soft skin to admire and taste.

And touch, though he knew it would probably wake her up. His hand conformed perfectly to the contour of her ass, her thigh. He explored, not aimlessly but not in any hurry to arrive at his destination. They had time. Not enough of it in the grander scheme of things, but enough for this. Enough for reminding himself of her dimensions by touch until he knew enough to pick her out of a crowd blindfolded.

He suspected she was awake, but wasn’t sure until he finally brushed his fingertips between her legs and heard her soft, gasping response. She was already wet, and when he slid a finger inside her she arched into the touch.

“More.”

“I’m just getting started,” he reassured her, shifting his hand to press his palm against her clit. “Spread your legs for me.”

She hooked her top leg back over his, opening herself up with the same complete trust he’d spent patient months earning back at the start of their relationship. She’d been gun-shy, thrown off by a bad first experience with her college boyfriend, who had managed to convince her his trouble in bed was due to lack of sufficient natural ability on her part. So confident in most other areas of her life, Amanda had become prickly and anxious when it came to sex, and the first few times they’d slept together had been tense. Jeremey was no sex god, had no special magic other than adoring her and wanting her to enjoy it. So he’d studied—both the topic in the abstract and Amanda in particular. He’d tried things to find what worked best for her. Kept some, refined others, kicked some right out the door. And by a series of baby steps, they had moved from that tense, concern-laden atmosphere in the bedroom to one of having fun and taking joy in each other. And the resulting sex had become nothing short of spectacular.

Amanda’s confidence now, that simple movement of her leg with no hesitation or embarrassment, felt to Jeremy like an achievement. If nothing else, perhaps he’d had that one good effect on her life.

Not to mention, it was hot as hell. His dick strained against his boxers, clamoring to replace his fingers in her pussy. But there wasn’t a condom within reach, and he couldn’t bear the idea of stopping to find one. Not when she was making those noises. Not when her slim body felt taut as a bowstring under his arm, every muscle involved in reaching for pleasure. He played her, and finally she sang, shivering against him and sending his sweet agony of denial to an almost unbearable pitch.

The strip of shiny foil packets was on the nightstand next to Amanda. As if she’d read his mind, she reached for it. Snagging it with a fingertip, she flicked it back toward him before shoving the robe off her shoulders and onto the floor. He yanked his boxers down, rolled the condom on, and was just in time to meet her lying down again in the middle of the bed. She turned her back to him, spooning up the way they had been before, and he slid into her in one easy glide.

Yesterday had been frantic and messy. Today they were more measured and precise, but it was no less astonishing. Small wonder he hadn’t been able to sleep lately. He’d been missing a piece of himself, one of the best pieces, and now that he had it back he didn’t think he could ever let go. His sex-addled mind, and his absolute certainty that this was
right
, led him to speak without thinking it through.

Grazing his lips over the crest of her smooth shoulder, he paused before his next thrust and whispered, “What if I leased some office space in San Jose?”

He wasn’t sure what answer he expected, but it wasn’t the one he got.

“Um...why?”

“Wh—why? Because I love you. I was dumb to move when you didn’t want to, and I want to come back so we can be together.”

He pushed deeper by instinct, but Amanda’s response was chilling his enthusiasm rapidly.

Shit shit shit.
Rewind.
REWIND!
Why don’t these stupid human bodies come with a fucking rewind button?

“This is so hot,” he blurted.

“It
was.
”

He heard the unspoken addendum:
Until you went and opened your big fat mouth
,
you jerk.

Or possibly he was projecting just a bit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to screw it up. Can we just ignore the past minute and a half?”

She shifted on her hip, pressing into him at a different angle, her foot once again scaling his legs to settle behind his knee. When she pulled his hand down, nudged his fingers toward her clit, Jeremy groaned and surged into her, fully ready again. With strokes as gentle as he could make them, he brought her to another climax, one she rode out with greedy, noisy, shameless enthusiasm. His own followed soon after, a less-than-ideal blast of pleasure that peaked before he was quite expecting it to, and dwindled far too quickly.

They lay in silence for a few breaths, then Amanda patted his arm. “It turned out to be very hot, after all. Good job.”

Resting his head against her nape, he tried to calm his racing heart. Its rhythm had less to do with the sex, he suspected, and more to do with the feeling that despite Amanda’s casual tone, he’d somehow managed to screw everything back up.

“I think I’m going to text Julie,” she said, “and see if she wants to have dinner with me. Just the girls.”

It was the death knell. He knew it. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

She pulled away, sitting up and reaching for her phone. Once she’d tapped out the text, she stayed on the edge of the bed, legs dangling off the side. He could feel her drumming her heels against the side of the frame. When she finally spoke, it was almost a relief.

“So, meaningless vacation sex. You’re doing it wrong.”

“I kinda figured that out. The office thing just...slipped out. I didn’t mean it to.” He couldn’t apologize again. Saying sorry again wouldn’t make him any more sorry, and it wouldn’t make her any more likely to forgive him.

“I know it’s awful when people ask things like this, but you know what your problem is?”

He scanned her shoulder blades, her spine, the array of toned muscles spanning her back and shoulders. Committing it all to memory one last time. “I think I have a pretty good idea, but go ahead and give me your thoughts.”

A humorless chuckle, a shake of her mussed blond head. “Your problem is you think too much. I know, I know, pot calling the kettle black. But you do. You think too much and you
do
too much. And what makes it too much is that you do it without
feeling
first. You’re the authority on an awful lot of things, legitimately. You’ve worked hard for that and earned it and I don’t begrudge you that when it comes to the things you’ve achieved. But you’re not the authority on me. Only I can be the authority on me. And you’re also not the authority on
us
. And the part you don’t get is...
neither am I
. That isn’t how it works.” She turned to face him, and the sadness—the resignation—on her face just about killed him.