Chapter 21
“Are you tired?” Amani asks me from the passenger seat, her head resting against the window. The sun is just about to dip below the waterline. We have the prettiest view of the ocean at sunset during our drive home from Piermont, and I’m suddenly inspired.
“No, why? Are you?”
She shakes her head lazily, and it’s clear she’s lying. It’s been a long day. Amani wasn’t feeling well this morning, and we’ve spent all day at Piermont. I’m sure she wants to get into bed, but I can’t waste this view.
“It’s just you missed the exit,” she says, jutting her thumb over her shoulder.
“I realize. We’re taking a detour. I want to show you something. It’s right up here.”
Pulling off on the next exit, I take the first right, which is a dirt path blocked off by an iron gate. I don’t love driving the Lamborghini on dirt roads, but this is worth it. Pausing in front of the large white gate, I shift to park and pump my brows at Amani. “Want to break some rules?”
Her eyes light up. “Seriously? I didn’t think you had it in you, Mr. Straight-Laced.”
“Mr. Straight-Laced? Worst nickname ever.”
She smirks at me, her sleepy eyes almost at half-mast. “You said you didn’t like ‘Stalker,’ so I upgraded you.”
“Hardly an upgrade.”
“Okay then, summer guy,” she says playfully, “what’s the game plan because the gate has a padlock.”
I give her a dead, serious stare. “Make sure you’re buckled tight.” I rev the engine and watch her eyes grow wide with panic.
“Adam—”
“Oh, come on, Amani.” I unbuckle and lean over, kissing her soft cheek. Pulling my keys from the storage nook in the dash, I hold up a small silver key. With my other hand, I point above her shoulder. “See above the tree line? That community up there?”
Amani follows my finger with her gaze and squints. “Sort of. It’s well hidden.”
“That’s the point. I own two houses up there. Both rentals. Us property owners can’t technically restrict public beach use, but we put up this gate because we own the access point.”
I open the car door and hustle to the gate, unlocking it with my key before pushing it wide open and securing each side with the iron pins. When I slide back into the driver’s seat, I don’t bother re-buckling. We’re almost there. I drive about another sixty seconds down the dirt path before the tree line clears and we have a front-row view of the sun slowly hiding behind the ocean. The hues of orange and pink are streaking the water, making the waves glow.
“Pretty romantic, right?”
Amani turns, looking through the back windshield at the thick brush of trees. “A little serial killer-ish, but definitely romantic.”
“Such a mood ruiner,” I huff out.
She’s chuckling now. “Adam, I will always ruin big, romantic gestures with ridiculous humor. I will never hesitate to take off my clothes, but will forever blush when you call me beautiful. Also, you should know, even after all the incredible cuisine you’ve introduced me to over the past few months, I still love In-N-Out Burger.” She flashes me something between a smirk and a smile. “Still want to keep me?”
I answer by scooting my seat back as far as it goes and cutting off the engine. I pat my lap. “Feeling acrobatic?”
“Here? Really? You’re not afraid of getting caught?” Her mouth falls open slightly, but she looks more impressed than put off.
“I usually come here to be alone. I don’t tell anyone about this place. I even gave the other property owners in the neighborhood the wrong keys to that padlock. We have full privacy.”
Amani throws her head back and laughs before climbing over the console and carefully positioning her knees on either side of my thighs. She’s braced against the car door and my center console. I wrap my hands around her hips and pull her closer, encouraging her to rest her full weight on me.
“I just wanted to share this view with you.”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she says. “And I’m proud of you, by the way.”
“For sharing my secret?” I raise my brows.
“For how great you were with your mom today,” she answers.
I rub my hand across the small of her back. “Why are you thanking me for that?”
Today surprised me, to say the least. I figured I’d be fighting the bile in my throat being that close to my mom, but it was easier than I thought. I set the anger aside for one afternoon and I felt weightless. I could see how different my mom looked from the image I had in my mind. She wasn’t a cowardly monster. Just…my mom. Two decades later.
Amani shrugs. “Now we’re both doing things we didn’t think we could do. It makes me feel less alone, I guess.”
I tuck the loose strand of hair, caked against her cheek, behind her ear. “Do you mean having a baby?”
“No, I mean saying I want to be a different person and have a different life, and actually going for it. It’s easier said than done. Since I met you, I’ve lost like over a hundred thousand followers. I’ve fucked up all my algorithms. I’m supposed to post daily, and yet in all of September, I posted once out of obligation for a sponsor. It’s both scary and wonderful how quickly I’ve let go of all the painful things that used to rule my life. With you, I don’t feel like I’m changing alone.”
Running my hand up her back, I find the hair tie holding her thick, ruby hair in a messy bun. Once I tug it free, her hair cascades over my forearm, down her shoulders, the minty smell of her shampoo filling the car.
“You’re not changing alone, baby.” I nuzzle into her neck. “I’m slow, but I’m getting there. I promise.” I’m growing hard beneath her thighs as I trail soft kisses down her neck. Eagerly, I tug at the zipper of her top, but it only lowers about three inches. It must just be for show. The romper she’s wearing is one-piece and far too complicated for car sex. “Dammit,” I grumble. “How the hell do you get this off if you have to pee?”
Reaching between her legs, she pulls at the fabric, the hidden snaps popping apart, turning what was shorts into a dress. She grabs my hand and presses it against the thin fabric of her underwear. “See? Easy.”
“Fucking magic trick,” I say and she laughs in response. She grinds against my hands as I play with her piercing through the cloth of her panties. I wait until they’re damp before I pull them aside and slip my finger into her crease.
She moans as I swivel my finger inside her. “I love how you do that.”
“Take a breath,” I instruct. Once she does, I tell her to release it, slipping in a second finger as she exhales.
“Oh, fuck,” she groans. “You’re so good at that.”
“Good at what? Fingering you?” Her eyes are closed, riding my hand. My eyes are open, watching the ecstasy on her face.
“Being patient with me. Waiting for my body to respond.” She opens her eyes, making me catch my breath. Sometimes I forget how startlingly pretty she is. I’m used to Amani by now—her sass and snark, the way she sucks in her lips and widens her eyes like a lemur when she’s trying not to laugh at her own joke. But now and then I get a glimpse of her that catches me off guard and reminds me that I have a goddess lying next to me at night.
“Amani, I…” I really want to tell you I love you. But I bite my bottom lip, holding back the words and remembering not to make promises I can’t keep. I think I do, though. I love her. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to trust love again. It took eight years for me to move forward after the first time love failed me. And judging by the way I feel about her, Amani has the power to ruin the rest of my life.
“What?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.
“Can we do this without a condom? I don’t want to mess with your treatment plan.”
She nods. “We’re fine for now. Pelvic rest doesn’t start until after embryo transfer.”
“Oooh, talk dirty to me,” I tease as I pump my fingers faster.
“Yeah, IVF talk isn’t really sexy, is it?” she says with a small laugh as she unbuttons my pants. I bridge my hips so she can pull my jeans and briefs down just enough for my cock to spring free.
“Always so ready for me,” she says.
“Come here,” I murmur, pulling my fingers out of her and pushing my bottoms the rest of the way off. I grip her ass and guide her over my dick. We both groan when she’s seated on top of me, our hips interlocked.
Unable to free her from her complicated top, I grip her tits through the thin blue fabric. I quickly find her piercings through her bra, rubbing my thumbs over the little gems. I hardly think she notices, fully entranced in grinding on me the best she can in the cramped space.
“I’m so, so close,” she murmurs in my ear, riding faster, trying to shift her hips so I’m hitting her favorite spot. “Right there, Adam. Deeper. Like that,” she coos. I love when she talks to me like this. All her secrets, all her fantasies, everything she wants…she’s an open book when we’re together like this.
Goddamn, she’s too fucking good. I can’t last much longer. “Lean back. Hold my legs, I’ve got you.” I spit on my thumb and rub her clit rapidly, trying to make her come before I do. She’s gasping for air like she always does right before she’s about to orgasm. “There you go, baby, you’re so beautiful.”
A little praise is all it takes for her to come undone. She slumps against my chest, biting down on my shoulder as she twitches on top of me. I grab her chin urgently, putting her lips on mine so I can kiss her while I’m spilling inside her.
For a while, we sit silently, our chests pressed against each other so tightly it’s like we’re one body. I roll down the window so the sound of our ragged breathing mixes with the sound of the ocean rolling over the shore. Her hands are in my hair as she places tender kisses on jawline. My hands are on her back, tracing her spine. I chuckle every time I unintentionally tickle her and she flinches.
“Stop it,” she scolds. “You keep tickling me like that and you’re going to make me pop right off of you. Then you’re going to be left with a huge mess in your car.”
“I don’t care.”
She scoffs. “You’re unreasonable about your car’s cleanliness. It’s why I can never eat in here or the Porsche.”
She’s not wrong. It’s a steadfast rule I’ve upheld since I bought my first car—no food or drinks in my vehicles, ever.
“Speaking of which, are you hungry? There’s a little mom-and-pop drive-through nearby that has the best old-fashioned hamburgers and milkshakes.”
“We just ate our body weight in roast and peanut butter pie a few hours ago,” she says.
“Doesn’t answer my question,” I say, raising my brows. “Are you hungry?”
She puckers her bottom lip, looking adorable. “A little,” she admits.
Scooping under her thighs, I guide her off me and help her back into the passenger seat. After pulling up my pants, I fish in the center console for my neatly folded, backup gym towel. “This is clean. Will this work?”
“Perfect,” she says, grabbing the blue towel and wiping between her thighs. “Thank you.”
“So, hamburger? And maybe we can share a milkshake? Unless you don’t want the strawberry cheesecake milkshake, then you’ll have to get your own.”
“You said it’s a drive-through. Where are we going to eat?” she asks.
I gesture to our seats, then point to the cupholders.
Amani drops her jaw. “No way,” she says. “You’re going to break your no food in the car rule for me?”
I turn my head to look her in the eyes. “Summer girl, I’ve been breaking all my rules for you since the day we met. I’m not about to stop now.”