Chapter 23
Monica
A s I tried not to peek at Troy changing out of his robe and into some more suitable clothes to introduce me to his sister, or reintroduce for that matter, I also tried not to worry about getting caught here on a beach vacation with my boss. He said his sister could be trusted and that it wasn’t anything to worry about. I wanted to believe him. I guessed I should have been thankful that it wasn’t his father sitting in the kitchen.
Once Troy had put on a pale blue linen button-down and a pair of khaki shorts, he took my hand and led me through the house. I couldn’t help but take in this new look on him. I usually only saw him in the finest suits, so this casual, beachy look was different. Good different.
I did my best to settle my nerves as I walked back into the kitchen to face his sister wearing a bit more clothing. She stood by the stove, flipping bacon in a pan. The smell of it made my stomach grumble. When we walked in, she looked up and gave us a big smile.
“Care for breakfast?” she asked, holding up a wooden spatula.
“That would be great,” I said.
“Thanks, sis,” said Troy.
“Sorry about before,” she said, putting the spatula down and leaning against the quartz counter. “People say I have a dry sense of humor. I was just giving you a hard time.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“I actually think it’s great you’re here. I don’t think Troy has ever brought anyone here, not since…”
Troy cleared his throat and Erica gave him a knowing look. I would bet she was about to say Veronica. Someone we still hadn’t talked about. I wondered if he was avoiding it. I guess I was avoiding it, too.
His sister pushed off the counter and held out her hand.
“Let’s try this again. I’m Erica.” She smiled.
“Monica,” I said, shaking her outstretched hand.
“How do you like your eggs, Monica?” she said, turning back to the stove.
“Scrambled, please.”
Kind of how my brain felt right now.
“Coming right up,” she chirped.
Troy pulled two coffee mugs from a nearby shelf and poured hot coffee to their brims. He carefully handed me one and we settled in at the breakfast nook. We sipped our coffee and listened to how Erica had arrived late last night, probably long after we had gone to bed, which was a good thing. If she had gotten there any earlier, she would have found me face down on the couch with Troy behind me. I blushed at the thought.
We spent breakfast getting to know each other, and I realized I really liked her. Troy could hardly get a word in edgewise between us. I found out that she was a writer, too. A journalist for a small, start-up newspaper who mostly focused on politics. I was surprised to find she wasn’t part of the Gunner empire.
“What made you decide to write?” I asked.
“And not take over the family business?” she asked, understanding what I was really asking.
I nodded.
“I was never interested in it, which pissed my father off. But he’s so old school, even if I wanted to be a part of his legacy, I doubt he’d find a place for me. A woman.”
Ouch, I thought. It seemed like Troy wasn’t the only one to have a strained relationship with his father.
“So, you write romance novels?” she asked, popping a piece of bacon in her mouth.
“That’s right,” I said, waiting for her to write me off as a fluff writer.
“That’s fucking awesome. Those are my guilty pleasure.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised that she would dabble in the fantasies of love and sex.
“Oh, yeah. Politics can be cut-throat, so it’s nice to have an escape.”
“I can understand that,” I said. “I escape my own novels by reading crime or thrillers.”
“You have to have that break from work, while not entirely leaving it. I get that. I read gossip columns too, when the political stuff gets too heavy.”
I was really beginning to like this girl.
Troy cleared his throat after being ignored for close to twenty minutes.
“Oh, Troy. I forgot you were here,” said Erica, feigning surprise.
I let out a laugh. I liked her humor, when it wasn’t at my expense first thing in the morning, of course.
“Ha, ha,” said Troy. “Sorry to interrupt this…” He pointed between us, raising an eyebrow.
“Jealous?” asked Erica.
“A little.” He held up two fingers and held them an inch apart.
I leaned into him and squeezed his knee. It was a tiny moment of intimacy that was finally seen by someone else. Not just someone, but someone in his family. Someone close to him. It was the smallest thing, but it felt so big. Especially because I felt so comfortable doing it in front of her.
“What do you girls want to do today?” he asked, looking between us two.
I somehow didn’t mind that our getaway as two had now become a getaway of three.
“I want to go down to the beach with a plethora of alcoholic beverages and get drunk and tan,” said Erica with a nod.
Troy looked at me.
“I’m game,” I said.
“All right. It’s settled. I’ll run to the store,” he said.
“Not until you help me wash these dishes,” said Erica, standing up and clearing the table.
“I can help.” I stood up and reached for a dish.
She waved me away.
“You relax. You’re a guest.” She nodded for Troy to follow her.
I watched them walk to the sink with a stack of plates in their hands. I could see their closeness just in how they walked and looked at each other.
“I like her,” I heard Erica whisper as she began rinsing the dishes.
I smiled at her words. They meant more than she knew.
An hour later, the three of us were out on the white sand beach, lying out on large black-and-white striped towels with cocktails in hand. Troy had gone to the store and picked up everything we needed for pina coladas. He must have made them extra strong because the almost empty one in my hand had already gone straight to my head.
“Refills, anyone?” he asked, propping himself up on the towel and looking over at us.
It was hard not to let my mind wander down his tan, muscular stomach toward the V outline that peeked out from his black swim trunks. Thankfully, I had dark sunglasses on, so Erica didn’t catch me eye-drooling over her brother.
“Yes, please,” said Erica, holding up her empty glass.
“Ditto,” I said.
“On it.” Troy stood up and walked up to the beach house, through the French doors. I sighed as I put my hands behind my head and looked up at the sky. This was a vacation I never wanted to leave. The weather was warm, but not too hot. The water felt like the air. The perfect temperature to swim in. Or make love in, as we knew from last night. If I spent my whole life on this beach, I would be happy.
I dreaded going back to New York tomorrow. Back to the cold and sleet. Back to hiding whatever this thing was between me and Troy. I didn’t know what it was, and there were times I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to ruin a good thing with labels. A label wouldn’t change the fact that he was my boss and a relationship would probably land us both in hot water.
For now, I tried to just be happy with the way he looked at me. The way he touched me. It had to be enough. And sometimes, it was. It was enough to make my heart stop beating for a split second and then restart, like I was coming back to life. I didn’t want to lose that feeling.
“I like you,” said Erica, looking up at the sky through her gold aviators that probably cost more than my rent.
“I like you, too,” I said, turning toward her.
“I mean, you’re a badass on your own. Being a novelist and all. But I like you for my brother too. He’s not always this… fun.”
“Thank you,” I said. “We have a good time together.”
“Stick around, okay?” she said.
I nodded.
I’ll try, I thought to myself.
I heard Troy’s footsteps approaching and looked up to see him carrying a blender full of pina colada mix and doing a little dance, even though there was no music. I smiled in amusement.
“Your drinks, ladies,” he said with a grin. I saw his face was a little red, probably from the rum.
“See? Fun ,” said Erica as she sat up and handed him her glass, which he overflowed with the strong pineapple drink.
I laughed as he refilled my glass and then his own. He set the blender down in the sand and I watched his eyes roll over my body slowly. I may as well have been naked in this teeny hot pink bikini, and under his gaze I wished I was so I could have him right here in the sand. My breath picked up slightly as his eyes turned a darker, more lustful shade of green. I wondered what he would do if his sister wasn’t right there. The thought made something inside me twitch.
“I need a snack,” said Erica suddenly, pulling herself to her feet. She swayed a little bit in the sand before steadying herself.
“Me too,” said Troy. “Hey, will you make your famous guacamole?”
“Oooh. Yes. Good idea. I’ll be right back.”
Troy sat on the towel next to me and called over his shoulder, “Take your time.”
As soon as she had disappeared through the French doors of the house, he rolled over and grabbed my breast through the thin material of my bikini. I gasped at his forwardness, but gladly welcomed it.
“I’ve been waiting to do this since I saw you come out wearing the sexiest bikini I have ever seen,” he whispered in my ear as his fingers now circled my nipple, making it peak.
His other hand was now traveling down my abdomen until his fingertips were at the waistband of my bottoms. I sucked in a breath as his fingers slipped underneath the material.
“Your sister…” I said breathlessly.
“Is busy,” he finished before grazing his teeth against my earlobe.
“But she’s right through those doors,” I said, squirming at his touch.
“Then try to be quiet,” he whispered before he dipped a finger into me.
I let out a whimper of pleasure as he swirled his finger around.
“It feels like you’ve been waiting for this too.” His words were gruff against my ear and I instinctively let my legs fall apart, giving him full access to me.
He propped himself up on his elbow and brought his mouth to mine as his finger moved in and out of me, the palm of his hand rubbing against me. My back arched in pleasure, our mouths pressing tightly together as our tongues moved at the same speed of his hand. Any minute his sister could come out, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t. I was completely lost at the touch of his hand.
He started moving quicker, pumping two fingers inside of me. I could hear my wetness against his hand as my orgasm began to build inside of me. I lifted my hips to have more of him.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered hoarsely as he watched the pleasure on my face. He was enjoying this as much as I was. I moaned into his mouth as my body tensed up. Every sensation from his touch shot through me like a firework. I released into his hand, twitching as I lay against the towel in the soft sand. I lay there breathlessly, unable to move, but Troy scooped me up and carried me toward the ocean.
At the water’s edge as I was draped over his strong arms, I looked up at him and shook my head in a quiet disbelief.
“What are you doing to me?” I whispered.
“Giving you everything you deserve,” he said, kissing my lips as we waded into the warm water.