9. Chapter 9 #2
Hearing the word sex from his lips is an aphrodisiac for me, and I lift my hips from the blanket. “Can we stop talking about this and get back to what we were doing before?”
He rests on one arm and uses his other hand to gently grip my jaw until I can’t help but meet his eyes. “Tell me.”
“They were spicy scenes,” I admit.
“Do you need more… inspiration?” That question is accompanied by a firm thrust against my sex that almost pushes me over the edge.
“Yes. Please,” I breathe.
Reno tilts my head to the side and kisses his way across to my ear. “What’s your next sex scene about?” The scrape of his teeth across a particularly tender spot on the side of my neck has my eyes rolling back in my head.
“He’s going to hump her like a ladybug,” I pant.
“Aha, got it. I think ladybug is the new doggy,” he murmurs with a chuckle against my flesh. “I’m confident I can help you with that.”
Oh, I’ll just bet you can , I think. Reno’s hip action is nothing short of elite, and I’m sure he could fuck a woman until she went cross- eyed.
Speaking of hips, he rolls his and drags his length up and down my denim-covered slit, and a shudder passes through my entire body. I’m so wet, I’m probably leaving a damp spot on the front of his charcoal cargo shorts, but I find it hard to care because…
“Reno, I’m almost there,” I whimper, desperate to tip over the edge of my orgasm and—
Suddenly he’s gone, and my confused body aches for his weight on top of me again. Prying open my heavy eyelids, I find him stretched out beside me, breathing heavily through gritted teeth.
“Someone’s coming,” he tells me.
“And it was almost me,” I snipe a second before I hear voices coming up the trail. Then I giggle. “Oh, you mean coming, not coming .”
He gives me a sardonic grin and sits up, tugging at the hem of my top, which has ridden up from all the activity. Then he reaches for two bottles of water from the cooler, twisting off one lid and handing it to me before rolling the other cool bottle across his forehead.
I sit up and take a long swig as Inge and Chris appear, followed by Victoria and Elvis. “Hey!” I say a little too chirpily—because they came within seconds of seeing my O-face—but they don’t seem to notice.
“Oh, hey, Juliette. We didn’t know anyone was up here,” Victoria says, glancing at her husband. “We can go somewhere else.”
“No, that’s okay,” Reno says quickly, standing and picking up the cooler to hold in front of his dick, which appears to be trying to Hulk-smash its way out of his pants.
He holds out a hand to help me stand. “Yep, we were about to leave anyway, but I’ll see you guys tomorrow night.” I bend to pick up the blanket, and when I stand, I catch Chris’s eyes on me. More specifically, on my backside.
“Looking forward to it,” he says, very obviously checking me out. In front of his wife.
Forcing a tight smile, I roll the blanket into a ball and hold it in front of my body as we wave goodbye and Reno leads me toward the trail. We walk for a few minutes, both of us silent, which is weird for me. I tend to talk a lot.
I don’t want to mention the ogling. I mean, what if I imagined it? That would make me sound conceited. But did Reno notice too? Is that why he’s being so quiet? I relax my face, push the thoughts out of my mind, and think of a different subject.
“Which movie do you think has the best music soundtrack?”
Reno seems startled from whatever headspace he was in, and as the trail widens, he pauses to let me catch up to him. His hand captures mine, and his warmth calms my frayed nerves a bit.
“ Top Gun ,” he says without much thought, and I laugh.
“That’s such a dude answer, but I can’t argue. I actually hated the song ‘Take My Breath Away’ when I first heard it, but then I saw it in the movie, and it changed my whole perspective.”
“What’s your favorite soundtrack?”
“I don’t have a favorite. It really depends on my mood, but Footloose and Forrest Gump are high on my list.”
“Both solid choices,” he says with a sage nod. “Would you make me hand in my man card if I said I love the music from Dirty Dancing ?”
I laugh. “Trust me. Your man card is secure.” There’s no denying that Reno Swain is innately masculine, and not the toxic kind of masculinity. He gives off a protective vibe without being overbearing, and he’s gentlemanly without coming across as patronizing.
And he’s sexy as hell. I picture our naked bodies tangled up in the sheets while we go at it ladybug-style.
If that’s even what Reno still wants. I glance down at his shorts. He’s softened a bit, but there’s still a pretty firm semi happening down there, and he occasionally hitches his step as if he’s trying to subtly readjust.
“You want to come to my cottage?” I ask when we reach our cozy little area of the island, and his answer comes quickly.
“Hell yes.” His lips twist to the side. “I mean, if you want me to.”
“I do,” I tell him, and he takes the blanket from me while I unlock the door. As soon as we’re inside, he tosses the cooler and blanket aside and backs me against the door.
“I signed you up at my table for dinner,” he tells me, bracketing my head with his forearms. “We have three hours until we have to leave. How many orgasms do you want your female character to have?”
He says it with all the confidence in the world, like whatever number I spout, he can achieve it. I lift one brow and shoot back with another Mean Girls quote.
“The limit does not exist.”
The warmth of his chuckle gusts across my lips. “I look forward to finding out what your limits are, dream girl.” He steps into me, his body hard and hot against mine. “I liked spending time with you today.”
I tilt my head back against the door and look up into his pretty green eyes. “I liked it too.”
Reno cradles the side of my face in his big palm and strokes his thumb over my bottom lip. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. I’m not looking for anything serious.”
“I’m not either,” I assure him, nipping at the pad of his thumb. “Just a fun island fling.”
And it wouldn’t work out anyway because he lives in Denver, and I live in Texas. He still hasn’t mentioned his last name, and I haven’t let on that I recognize him. If he values a bit of anonymity, I don’t mind giving that to him. I’m sure he deals with enough craziness in his career.
He leans forward and kisses my lips softly. “Good. I don’t want you to think it’s about you. I think you’re funny and beautiful, and if it weren’t for your lifestyle, I would definitely want to pursue something with you outside of a vacation fling.”
My heart sings and then stutters over one word. “What do you mean my lifestyle ? ”
Reno frowns a little. “You know, all this,” he says, circling his hand in the air to take in the cottage. The cottage I’d booked as a writing retreat. Is he talking about my books?
“Are you judging me for the spicy sex stuff?” I ask, a bit of a bite to my tone. I detest people who put down others for what they read. Or write.
His eyes widen a little. “No, not judging at all. People are free to do what they want. I just don’t want to be involved… personally.”
I. Am. Fur-i-ous.
Placing my hand on his chest, I take two giant steps forward, pushing him back. “You know what? I think I want you to leave.”
He jerks his head back in surprise and reaches for me, but I swivel away and yank open the door. “Juliette, I swear, I’m not trying to be an asshole here. Surely you understand that not everyone is into that.”
“Yep, totally understand. But I don’t want to be involved with those kinds of people… personally .” I throw his sentiment right back in his face with a sour smile on my lips and a sweeping gesture of my hand toward the door.
He looks crestfallen, but what did he expect? That he could insult my lifestyle and I’d be okay with it? I certainly wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship either—especially not with a hockey player—but he didn’t have to get all self-righteous on me.
Reno walks out onto the small porch and turns to face me, something akin to remorse on his face.
“I’m really sorry, Juliette. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.
I thought we could just have, you know, a bit of fun doing the inspirational thing for your book.
” He lifts his hands and lets them fall in a gesture of confusion.
Keeping my hand on the doorknob, I step into the doorframe until we’re almost chest to chest. “Oh, I’m feeling really inspired to write right now. In fact, I’m going to write a chapter where the woman kicks out the closed-minded jerk who went all judgmental on her.”
I start to close the door, but on second thought, I pull it back open and leave him with one final parting shot. “You probably couldn’t handle what I like in the bedroom anyway.”
Then I slam the door in his stupid, stunned face.
The handsome asshole.