8. Lucky Blood Orange
Chapter 8
Lucky Blood Orange
R ose
The beach near the condo was fairly deserted. The sand was clean, the late afternoon was warm and beautiful, and the moment we set our stuff down in a good spot, Jason whipped his shirt off, turning the heads of the few people who were already on the beach.
He opened both chaises and set them under the umbrella. “Hey…would you mind putting sunblock on my back?”
“Sure.” Taking the bottle from him, I poured some into my palms and started rubbing his hard, muscled shoulders. A girl could get addicted to touching skin this warm and smooth. I wanted to rub my whole naked body against it like a cat. I took my time to be sure every spot of his back was covered, from his shoulder blades, down his long spine, along his back and sides. Down his lower back and along the low-slung waistband of his shorts where my fingers caught an upper-butt curve.
I stuck my head around his arm and smiled. “Need me to get your chest?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Please.”
I was just teasing him, but damn, okay. I circled to his front and poured more lotion into my hands, giving him back the bottle. From his shoulders, I moved down his pecs and swept my hands across his nipples and his sides.
I put my palm up. “Lotion me.”
He swallowed hard and poured a hefty amount into my hand.
“So, what are you going to do on the beach?” I rubbed my hands together then smoothed it down his washboard abs. Standing so close, gliding my hands along his skin…ugh, this pleasure ache was making it hard to stand.
“Uh, not much.” A muscle worked in his jaw as his gaze tracked my every moment, my hand moving lower and lower down his torso. Finally, my fingers grazed that sacred space between his belly button and the top of his shorts. I held his gaze as I rubbed his lower belly all the way down to his waistband. His nipples pebbled, and goosebumps broke out all along his skin. I smirked and finished up by running my fingertips just inside part of his waistband before smiling sweetly at him.
“Will you get my back?” I turned around and shrugged off my coverup, revealing the pink bikini. Which I’d worn for horny reasons.
It took him two tries to get his words out. “Of course.”
I smiled to myself and lifted my hair into a handheld bun. His big, slightly rough hands landed on my shoulders, rubbing the slick lotion in broad, circular strokes down my back. I shut my eyes to soak in the pleasure, not trusting myself to speak. One hand settled on the curve of my waist and grasped my hip, fingers digging in to hold me still as his other hand rocked me forward with every rhythmic stroke against my skin.
Holy mother of God. I hadn’t even gone into the water, and I was wet . His other hand took up the same position on the opposite hip, and he slipped his thumbs in one perfect circle on my lower back. I bit my lip and held in a whimper.
“What about you?” Jason’s gruff voice near my ear sent a fresh wave of chills across me.
“Uh…hmm?” Words were not possible, not the way his hand was slipping under my bikini’s back strap.
“What are you doing on the beach?” Both of his hands rubbed down my sides.
“ Ohhh ,” I murmured lustily, rolling it into an um to try and save face. “Probably just read. You?” I turned my left ear toward him.
Wait—I asked him that already.
His hands gently grasped my wrists and brought them down by my sides, releasing me but still standing close behind me. My hair whipped free in the gulf wind, and I seriously considered asking him to get my chest.
“Uh, maybe swim,” he said softly. “Go for a run. Read. I don’t know.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him. His gaze was soft, vulnerable. Smiling, I looked away and down. “Cool.”
“Okay,” he chuckled. “Cool.”
“Cool,” I repeated stupidly.
“I’m gonna cool off in the water.” He dropped the sunblock on the blanket and took off jogging toward the gulf like he couldn’t get away fast enough.
I settled into a chaise, keeping my eyes on his retreating backside. The muscles on his back moved as he raised his arms and dove low into the waves. Jason would skip straight to a Level Two boyfriend with that sexy golden retriever energy. It could get so messy with me living there, though. I’d only planned to stay a few months when I moved in, but now the thought of leaving that little slice of heaven made my stomach hurt.
The thought of not hanging out with Jason also made my stomach hurt.
And the thought of him rubbing lotion on some other woman’s back made my chest ache and my stomach hurt.
I tapped into my phone and opened up Heather’s latest romance novel rec, To Plunder a Pirate . But my eyes stayed on Jason, and my phone went to sleep without me reading a word.
He came out of the water. From behind my sunglasses, I watched rivulets of water snake down his muscles as he got closer. My gaze tracked the hair leading from his belly button down to the generous curve of his sex in those swim shorts, and my bottom clenched thinking about it wedged between my ass cheeks this morning.
I grabbed my iPad from my bag and tapped into my working file for Mom’s dress. That would keep me cooler than reading smut. Of the designs I sent her last night, she liked the mermaid silhouette best, so now I was trying to work out the train.
“Miss me?” Jason grabbed the towel and wrapped up in it, sitting in the chaise beside me and grabbing a water from the ice chest.
“Of course,” I murmured. Don’t look at how cute his hair is wet.
He shook his hair once like a dog, and seawater sprinkled all over me.
“Hey now, let’s watch that stuff.” I yanked the corner of his towel toward me and dried my cheek.
“I’m sorry!” He blotted at the top of my head, in my ear, tickled the corner of it into my neck.
I giggled and pulled away. “Stop!”
“I didn’t want to drip on my phone.” He crumpled the towel in his lap and pulled his phone from his bag.
I raised my eyebrows. “But it’s okay to get me all wet?”
His dimples dug deeper as he shrugged at my double entendre and laid back with his phone.
But he’d completely broken my concentration with the beads of water still glistening on his skin. “What’re you looking at that’s so engaging?”
He smiled more intently at his phone, his face reddening. But he didn’t answer.
“Evasive much?” I dipped my fingertips into the melting ice chest and flicked cold droplets at his chest.
“Ah!” He pretended to shiver, smiling bigger and sparing me a glance. “I’m reading.”
“What are you reading?”
He chuckled and sat up closer to me, meeting my eyes. “If you must know…” He held his phone toward me with the book cover displayed. Above a photo of someone fingering a blood orange was the title: The Thinking Lover’s Guide to the Pussy.
Fuck me.
My eyes met his, and the son of a bitch unconsciously—subconsciously?—darted his tongue out to lick his lips. Goosebumps rose all over my body, and my basement flooded in a sweet ache. “Goddamn, Deck Daddy. Is it…good?”
He shrugged, his gaze dropping to my mouth as he smiled. “I guess I’ll find out at some point.” He raised his eyebrows at me and went back to reading, biting his thumb and lazily rocking his leg so that I caught flashes of his toned inner thigh.
Smiling like an idiot, I swallowed hard and trained my eyes back on my screen, but all I saw was that lucky blood orange. I deep breathed through the intense need he’d triggered between my legs. Was he…was he reading that book…for me?
“What are you working on?”
It took me a second to hear him above the beating of my heart. “Um…dresses.”
He scooted his chaise close enough that his body heat warmed my skin. “You’re drawing? Oh! You were going to show me Becca’s dresses.”
“Oh yeah.” I opened up Becca’s file and tapped through my layers of discarded ideas to the wedding design she picked. “Will she get pissed if I show you?”
The mischief in his eyes stirred my blood. “She doesn’t have to know.”
I held it out to him, and he took the iPad from me, zooming in at the details at her waist, the design along the hem of the train. “Just beautiful.” He handed it back. “What about bridesmaid dresses? What are you wearing?”
Oh my. The raspy way he said that, and so close to my ear, was a little like phone sex. I really liked phone sex.
I opened another file with my sister as the base. “She had a harder time deciding on the bridesmaids’ dresses, but she went with this one. She loved the way the chiffon drapes off the shoulder. I liked the blush—” I changed the color with a few taps of my stylus. “But she insisted on this deep wine color. It’s more purple than red.”
“Why is Lily the model? Haven’t you drawn yourself? Because you’re gonna rock the hell out of that color. Did you know your eyes look purple sometimes?”
I smiled. “That’s what my mom says.” A few more taps, and I’d loaded the gown on my drawing of myself. “Here I am.”
He zoomed in more on my drawing of me than on the dress. “Beautiful. You could draw professionally.”
“Thanks.”
“How many times have you designed your own wedding dress?” His soft smile made me feel seen, like he knew I was all about the dress even though I wasn’t all about the wedding.
“Too many to count. I keep getting new ideas, and my taste keeps changing. I doubt I’ll ever need one, anyway.”
“Show me?”
His face was near my shoulder, and those brown eyes fluttered up to mine, warm, open, full of…hope? His eyes dropped to my lips again, and mine dropped to his.
With trembling hands, I flipped through all my attempts at drawing myself a wedding dress. “Of course, I started with princess dresses with big bells of tulle for a skirt, and then I went through my romantic phase, with silk chiffon flowers and peplums and a corset top. I love corset tops.”
“Very sexy,” he affirmed.
God, his deep voice could probably unhook my bikini top with a single growl. “And then my lace designs, some sluttier than others. My Lord of the Rings phase…” Swipe, swipe . “My ‘wedding dresses don’t have to be white phase…’” Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe. “I made this one for a class. It may be my favorite. I used lace that matches my skin, so the effect is very sexy.”
His mouth was close enough to kiss, and so inviting. He pulled away slightly with a hard swallow. “Do you have any drawings of dresses that you could put side-by-side with the dress itself? Instagram would eat that up.”
“Yeah, I have a few. But not many good pictures of them. They were mostly taken either in my ratty apartment or in the cluttered design studio at school. The only professional photographer I can afford is my sister, because she’s free, but I don’t want her taking the pictures. The last time I talked to her about my work, her mouth said, ‘You’re making such great progress!’ but her eyes said, ‘your little hobby is adorable.’”
“That sucks. I didn’t know she wasn’t supportive. You’re so talented.” He sat up straighter and caught my gaze with his. “You know, a very wise woman once told me that if you get paid doing the thing you love, that doesn’t make it less of a real job.”
I rolled my eyes with a smirk. “Yeah. But it’s kind of like making it as an actress or an artist. It’s really hard, and sometimes you lose hope.”
“Your sister’s a photographer. That’s art too.”
“Yeah, but it’s different. Rich people pay a ton of money for portraits. That’s where she was the night you found me digging up your yard. A family hired her to photograph their granddaughter’s wedding in Oregon. Flew her up there and everything.”
“Damn.” With his towel, he wiped away a drop of water on my thigh. “Well, I’m not a professional, but I’d love to take them for you.”
Lightly swooning, I shook my head. “You don’t have to do that. And I don’t know where I’d find models, anyway.”
“Why can’t you model them? This isn’t about what that asshole said, is it?” His voice had a protective edge.
Was he jealous? I didn’t normally go for jealous men. But maybe I’d been reading too many romance novels because it was hella sexy on him.
“No.”
“Unconvincing. Come on, let me take pictures of you in your dresses for your feed and prove to you what a beautiful woman you are.”
His gaze dropped briefly below my neck, and my lips parted on their own. I was keenly aware of how close his mouth was to my breasts. His proximity and the slight, sweaty undertone of his scent set off implosions along the roadmap of my veins. “You’d really go all around town taking pictures of me?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to help you realize your dream?” His brown eyes were magnetic.
I studied them with a smile. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”
He looked down, blushing and shrugging. “I think I’m going for another swim.” He stuffed his phone back in his bag and took off jogging to the water.
Jason
I had to get these entirely inappropriate feelings for Rose under control, but dammit I couldn’t stop flirting with her.
I waded into the water and dove in for a swim. Her eyes had definitely studied my mouth as if she was considering kissing me. Her hands had caressed that sunblock onto my body—that was no mere application.
But Rose didn’t just make my cock hard, she made my heart soft. And I needed to know if she felt something for me. Her baseline was so flirty, even when she had a boyfriend and thought I was with Misty. Like this morning. Liking how my cock felt against her ass, if that’s even what she said, wasn’t the same as being interested in a relationship.
I swam out to the second sandbar and stood in the chest-high waves, shifting my eyes along the shoreline. These past couple of weeks were eye-opening. Maybe even life-changing. For the first time in years, I was just…myself. I wasn’t bending into unnatural shapes to please Kasey. I wasn’t contrite on my knees trying to make things right with my family. I wasn’t even Deck Daddy, the persona I think I’d created to rebel against who I’d been before and who everyone wanted me to be now.
I didn’t realize how critical it was to my happiness to find out who I was away from all of that. I thought I’d been following my bliss by choosing whatever I wanted in the moment. Always wanted to live in a converted church? Buy one! Love making furniture? Make some! Shirtless photos on social media upping your follower count and engagement? Make more!
I swam parallel to the shore for a while. I’d only been following whims, completely guided by what made me happy in that moment. Because Kasey controlled my past, Mom wanted to control my future, but I got to be the lord and master of my present. And I wasn’t ready to give that up. But that present had been numb and lonely until Rose came along.
While she was trying on clothes today, I’d pulled our bucket lists out again. Falling in love was the most important thing I’d written on mine, but I hadn’t gone on a single date in over a year. I’d decided to be celibate to protect my heart, but maybe I’d stayed celibate out of fear. Deep down, like my family, I didn’t trust myself to make good decisions there, either.
So I faced those words— falling in love . Approaching the dead ache in my heart with hope and compassion instead of fear and distrust pivoted me to think about the qualities of the woman I wanted to make a bucket list with . And every one of them pointed to Rose.
She lit me up, mind, heart, and body. She had me so sexually excited I was reading books on how to pleasure her.
I swam back toward the beach, and once I was out of the water, I jogged toward her like her presence magnetized my chest.
I wanted to trace every stunning curve of her face with my fingers. I wanted to hear every awkward thing that came out of her beautiful mouth until the end of time. To hear her undone voice whimper my name while I moved inside her.
When I reached Rose, I flopped heavily at her feet in the sand.
“The water’s so warm. Come play with me in the waves.”
Concealed behind her sunglasses, her eyes might be closed or trained on me. It was exhilarating not to know.
She twisted her pretty lips and mmmmed. “Nope. I’m not a fan of things swimming past my legs.”
“Come on. Please come in the water with me?” I lightly pulled her ankle.
She took and released a deep breath. “Fine. Okay.”
At the water’s edge, the foaming waves skimmed past our ankles. “See? Nothing to be afraid of.” I backed farther into the water, letting the waves break against my back and throw me off balance. “I’ll be right by you the whole time.”
She came in farther, and the first wave that hit her moved her back toward the shore. She squealed in delight, and it was fucking adorable.
I tapped her shoulder. “Tag! You’re it!” I slow-ran further into the water until it came up to my thighs.
She called my name and followed me deeper, squealing every time a wave came in. She reached to tag me, but she yelped and grabbed my shoulders, clambering up onto my back like a sexy spider monkey. “Something swam past my leg!”
I scooped her legs behind the knees and helped her hang on. “You’re okay.” Nothing in the water of concern, just generic fish I couldn’t name. Thrilled by her breasts against my back and her bare thighs wrapped tightly around my waist, I stayed where I was. “I’ve got you.”
“Bring me back to the beach!” she commanded, settling her chin on my shoulder.
I delivered her safely on the wet sand, and she took several steps back up toward the umbrella. I caught her hand and pulled gently. “No, don’t go. Come back! We were having so much fun!”
She dug her feet in the sand, laughing. “Noooo, I’m not going back where the fish are.”
“I’m bringing you back, feeding you to the fishes.” Throwing my arms around her waist, I picked her up from behind and started walking toward the water.
She squealed and wrapped her arms around mine. “NO! Jason, no!”
At the last minute, I set her feet down in the foam, and she fell against me laughing. A wave broke on the beach, bringing with it a dozen little fish swimming around our ankles. She screeched and ran back up the beach. I chased her, unable and unwilling to stop myself from falling for her.