Chapter 18
chapter eighteen
Dayton
present day
She’s been gone all day, and I’ve been pacing like a wildcat, waiting for her to return—a wildcat with an unhealthy obsession with a woman he can’t have.
I went to the grocery store this morning. Then I went out surfing for a few hours, but after coming back to the house and seeing her Land Rover still gone, I started shuffling around the bungalow, making notes of things to bring up with Javier.
The pit in my stomach grows larger when the hands on my watch tick to four p.m.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” I grumble to myself.
She’s a grown-ass woman. She may not return all night, and I’ll have to live with it. I’m the idiot who decided to start sleeping in her bed and creepily watch her every move. Then I brought up her sexual experiences like a jerk and threw her divorce in her face like an even bigger jerk.
I know we can never be together, but that doesn’t make my obsession with her any easier to cope with.
I groan, lifting my hands up behind my head as I walk back into the studio.
I spend the next fifteen minutes tidying up my duffel bag, lining up her shoes by the door, and sweeping out the stray sand.
I start a load of laundry for her in the stacked washer and dryer, tucked away in the little closet, and make the bed.
She has a bunch of throw pillows in different shapes, like a palm tree, a seashell, and a crab. I line them up across the headboard.
I’m still in my swim trunks from surfing, so I peel them off and jump in a cold shower.
I refuse to think about how Summer’s naked body was in here a few hours ago.
I refuse to pump my fist over my dick with images of her rinsing sand off her skin or cozying up in her fluffy yellow bed in her tiny pajama shorts.
I place my hands on the tiled wall, pressing into it while counting to ten, then twenty, then fifty, then all the way to one hundred before releasing an exhale. It was the method my dad always made me use, growing up, when my OCD started taking over every aspect of my life.
I finish rinsing the soap off and step out of the shower and onto the fluffy white rug. Everything in here has a feminine touch and reminds me of Summer, reminds me of how obsessed with her I’ve been since day one.
I grab a yellow towel and dry myself off. My hair has grown out, and the dark curls need to be cut. I make a mental note to schedule an appointment with my barber after I get back to New York.
After getting dressed in some black linen pants and a pale pink striped button-down, I walk outside, barefoot.
A salty breeze brushes over my skin, bringing a sense of calm to me.
I’ve always felt more at peace when I’m near the ocean.
The sun is dipping lower to the west side of the island, but it’s not quite time for the sunset.
My heart rate spikes when I hear a car pull up in the driveway.
I turn around, praying Summer came back alone, only to be met with the sight of Cheri and Amelia. My heart sinks even though I’m happy to see them.
“Dayton, hey, can you come help me with the bags?” Cheri calls out.
I walk up to the hatchback of her car, half hoping to see Summer in the back seat. Amelia squeals when she sees me, running and jumping into my arms. It’s impossible to be sad or upset when Amelia is hugging me, so I squeeze her back.
“Hey, princess. How’s your day been?”
She wraps her arms around my neck. “It’s been good. Mama said we were here to see Auntie Summer. Where is she?”
“Oh wow, aren’t you excited to see Uncle Dayton? I guess I’ll have to take your present back.”
“No! I am excited! But Auntie Summer smells like sunshine and salt water, and she’s so pretty.” She toys with the collar of my shirt, sticking her lip out in a pout.
Well, you’re not wrong about that, kiddo.
I grab the reusable grocery bags from the back of Cheri’s car with one hand, holding Amelia with the other arm.
“Auntie Summer is almost here. She just stopped at the store to get some groceries for dinner. Did you fire up the grill yet, Dayton?” Cheri is carrying a birthday present toward the worn-out patio table.
I make a mental note to replace it first thing this week so nobody gets a splinter from the old wood.
The back deck has seen better days, but we weren’t planning to start the outdoor renovations yet.
The space will have string lights overhead, a large space for tables and chairs, and an outdoor kitchen with a flat screen TV mounted above it on the wall of the house.
It’ll be two stories, one on the ground level and one on the upper floor, connected to the master bedroom with a killer view of the Atlantic.
“No one told me we were having a cookout, but I’ll get it going.”
Cheri raises a brow. “Well, when you told me it was Summer’s birthday tomorrow, you failed to mention you’d be visiting this evening, but it’s a lovely surprise.”
“So, you and Summer were planning to hang out?”
“I haven’t seen the bungalow yet. You’re the one who told me she’s been here all alone and I should try to reach out. I have to work tomorrow, so I came tonight instead.”
Yeah, and I don’t want her to know I told you that.
I asked Cheri to keep Summer company before deciding to fly in myself.
A car pulls into the driveway. I don’t have to turn to know it really is Summer this time. I clench my jaw as I hear her quick footsteps on the gravel.
“Hi! Oh my gosh, so sorry I’m late. I was stuck behind a bus, making all the stops! Ugh. How are you, beautiful?” Summer coos to Amelia, who leaps from my arms down to the grass and bounds toward her.
She crushes her in a hug. Summer laughs, filling the night air with her melodious sound.
Her hair is in two French braids. She’s wearing a white miniskirt and a pale blue tube top with all her usual jewelry.
She looks good in everything, all the time, but tonight, all I can think about is if she found a fireman or a tourist to help expand her sexual horizons.
The idea fills me with violent, unhinged desires to track them down and deliver a message with my fists about how I feel about it.
It’s like I’m fucking sixteen years old all over again.
When I moved away from Coconut Beach, I was able to get Summer out of my system and continue a somewhat-normal life.
I dated a few women, but I mostly focused on building my business.
Now that she’s back in my life, stirring alive feelings I buried a long time ago, I’m like a hormonal teenager again.
“You’re fine. We just got here. Happy early birthday.” Cheri crushes her in a hug.
I move over to the picnic table to set down the bags before pulling the grill out from under the awning and removing the cover. The propane tank feels half full, so I light up the flames.
“What are we having, ladies?”
“I got burger patties and hot dogs. The burgers are pre-seasoned.” Cheri pulls them out of one of the bags and begins pulling off the plastic wrap. “So, what did you two do today?”
God bless you, cousin.
I wait for Summer to answer.
She shrugs while unpacking the groceries. “I went down to the Rusty Anchor and met some new people. Did some shopping. People-watched at the park.”
So, she did meet someone.
My fist tightens around the grill spatula.
“Better than Cocktails and Chaos?” Cheri asks.
Summer shakes her head. “No, but the bartender was a local I’d never met, and he said they use rum from the Bahamas and make the foam for their mai tais in-house. Those were amazing. I don’t know how to describe it, but you need to go try them.”
“Was this a cute bartender?” Cheri asks.
“He was decently good-looking. He had that surfer vibe.”
“Did you pay for these mai tais?” Cheri wiggles her brows.
Summer laughs before shaking her head.
“I knew it! Will you be seeing him again then?”
I stand there, helpless and pissed off and unable to do shit about it except for take out my frustration by roughly scraping the grill clean while they talk about the bartender Summer met. My skin feels like it’s on fire.
“You deserve a fun night out. I do too actually. We should go together to try these mai tais! Wendy can probably babysit.”
Summer nods. “I’d love to!”
She avoids eye contact with me when she brings over the sliced cheese and some premade jalapeno poppers.
“Can we go look at the house before it gets dark?” Cheri asks.
“Of course! Come see. I need your opinion on a few things.”
“Mommy, when can we eat?” Amelia asks.
“After we look at the house, baby.”
“Come over here and help me, kiddo. You can roll the hot dogs over.”
Later that night, after Cheri and Amelia leave, Summer and I clean up together in silence before going into the studio.
She kicks her shoes off before walking to the sink and removing the minimal makeup from her eyes.
I sit down on the bed, watching her wash her face and rub things into her skin.
She bends over the sink, and my eyes follow the way her skirt lifts up in the back. My throat dries up.
“You just gonna sit there and watch me?”
An apology is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t know where to start with it. My birthday gift might help … if she even accepts it.
“Do you want to open your gift now?”
She freezes while brushing her teeth, eyes jumping to mine in the mirror. “Gift?”
“Birthday gift.”
She finishes up brushing and rinsing her mouth out before slowly turning to face me.
“I didn’t realize you actually got me something.”
My eyes stay level with hers before dipping down over her body. Her nipples pucker beneath her thin shirt under my perusal. Yet again, my dick hardens without my consent.
“It’s what Dad and Clara would have wanted.”
Her features give nothing away as she stares at me with a neutral expression for a few more moments before slowly nodding. “Let’s do it in the morning.”
I nod. “Okay.”
While I was trying to make time pass today, I went to the store to get breakfast ingredients and stuff to make mimosas in the morning, hoping she’d actually come home for it.
Because that’s just how pathetically far you’ve fallen.
“I’m going to shower,” she says.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Don’t wait up.” She turns and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
I wake up to the bed jostling, like someone is gently shaking it. My hand is gripping Summer’s hair again, this time lower down, near the ends. It’s wrapped around my fist. I keep my eyes shut so I can pretend to be asleep again, until I hear her breathy moan. My eyes flicker open.
The room is still mostly dark, with a tiny sliver of light beginning to filter in. Her body shifts, and she sighs. The bed is still moving, and I realize it’s because she’s moving it with her body …
Fucking hell. She’s touching herself.
She’s lying on her stomach, face turned away from me. All I can see is her hair wrapped around my fist and the tops of her shoulders. She’s wearing a white tank top again.
“Mmm,” she moans again, following it with a soft whimper.
I’m fucked. I’m done for.
I pride myself on my self-control, but this is beyond my abilities.
My dick is rock hard, so stiff that it’s painful against the mattress.
I’m afraid if I move, I’ll alert her to being awake, and she’ll stop.
I want to hear her come more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
Her little whimpers and moans are making my mouth water.
I need to suck on every surface of her skin, to taste her arousal that I can faintly smell.
“Mmm.” Her moans are becoming more high-pitched and desperate, like she’s getting close.
I’ve imagined this moment countless times. The way I want to hear her reach her climax is something I’ve fantasized about in my own bed, my shower, even when I was with other women. Now that I’m experiencing it, time seems to stand still.
She starts to move quicker. My hand grips her hair tighter. I wish I could taste it, feel it, be the one to give it to her, but even just witnessing it is something I never believed would actually happen until now.
I lick my lips, slowly reaching my hand down over my shorts to adjust the steel erection. I could probably come just from listening to her pleasure herself. Red hot need pulses through me.
“Dayton,” she pants.
The gray shadows around me burst into light, so bright that it’s like the sun is on my skin and I feel warmth for the first time in years. She’s thinking about me while she’s coming, and nothing has ever felt so damn good.
She’s clearly close to finishing as her movements grow faster and her body shakes the bed more. I want to lean forward and whisper in her ear, to tell her she’s doing so good and she looks and sounds like a fucking angel. I want to pull her hair back until I can look into her eyes as she climaxes.
So, I do. I know she’s close, so I grip her hair closer to the roots and pull, not hard, but firmly. She gasps, eyes flickering open as her head tilts back. I tilt my hips, thrusting them into the pillow she has separating us.
“Dayton …” She moans my name, her pink lips forming an O as she exhales a whimpering moan.
Seeing the ecstasy in the depths of her green eyes and hearing her whimpering my name while her body starts to shake with her orgasm sends me over the edge. Ecstasy courses through every nerve in my body, and my release spews inside my shorts, and my grip tightens on her hair.
“Fuuuuck,” I pant.