Fuck.

Fucking hell.

I wipe my hand over my face and take in Rylee from behind. From the slope of her back, to the roundness of her perfect ass, to her toned legs propped up in those killer heels . . . She surpasses every fantasy I’ve had of her.

Crouching down behind her, I spread her legs farther apart to accommodate my broad shoulders, then I slide beneath her. Glancing up, I’m greeted by the press of her breasts against the window, along with her hands, holding her in place.

“Do you like the idea of someone catching us? Of someone seeing the pleasure I bring you, Rylee?”

Her chest rapidly rises and falls, her stomach moving along with each and every breath.

I lightly run my fingers up the inside of her legs, marveling in her silky skin. “Answer me, Rylee. Do you like the idea of being caught?”

“Yes,” she answers breathlessly.

“And what if we are? What if someone from below spots us? What will you do?” My fingers continue to move up her legs until they reach the juncture of her thighs. I rub my thumbs near her sensitive area, lightly teasing her, torturing her.

“I . . . I don’t know.”

I scoot closer, my mouth inching forward, dry as fuck, desperate for a swipe, one taste of this woman who’s thrown me into a lustful tailspin ever since I’ve arrived in Key West.

“Not the answer I was looking for.” I remove my hands and scoot back, which causes her to moan in disappointment. She moves her hips forward but I still her.

“Beck, please.”

“Impatient. Does that mean you’re wet for me?”

“God . . . yes,” she huffs out.

Wanting to see just how wet, I bring my fingers to her slit and ever so lightly press them briefly inside. My fingers slide in with ease. Fuck . . . so goddamn wet.

“Shit, Rylee.”

“I told you.” Desperation. Love that. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

Moving forward again, I bring my hands up her thighs, spreading them even more until I reach her pussy. With my thumbs, I spread her. Glistening and so goddamn pretty. Her breathing picks up even more, a light whimper escaping past her plump lips.

“Tell me, Rylee. Tell me what you would do if someone caught us.”

Another whimper, this one almost pained. Call me a dick, but I love how tortured she’s feeling right now, because I know within minutes, once she answers the question, she’s going to feel so damn good. To encourage her even more, I lightly blow on her clit, causing her hips to buck.

“Fuck, I would scream your name,” she answers. “I would let them know how good you make me feel.”

If I wasn’t so goddamn hard right now, I would have grown at least two more fucking inches from her answer, from the strain in her voice. I’m tempted to keep one hand on my cock, stroking it with each and every lick of my tongue. I want her to grip me, to feel my girth, to tease me like I’m teasing her.

“Beck, please . . . please.”

Smiling like a mother fucking fool, I reach out my tongue and very gently flick her clit. The first taste, fuck, it’s good—addicting—and it blocks out everything else around us. The room turns black, my peripheral vision blurring, my intentions focused on one thing and one thing alone—eating this woman out.

Plunging forward, I lap her up, long languid, flat strokes along her entire slit.

Slow, fast, slow, fast, flick, stroke, kiss . . . suck.

“Oh fuck, Beck, oh God . . . yes.” Her knees start to knock against my shoulders, her body shaking under my hands.

I pause, pulling my face away, wanting to see how far she is.

“Wh-what are you do-doing?”

I move my thumb and lightly run it along her slit, loving how fucking wet she is. I don’t think I’ve ever been with a woman who’s been this wet, this turned on.

“You’re close, aren’t you? Are you throbbing?”

“Pounding.” She takes a deep breath. “Are you edging me?”

“Maybe.” I press down on her clit and her head flies back, her moan so damn loud that I grow so uncomfortably hard. I need some kind of relief, so I grip my cock and squeeze the base, hard. I hiss between my teeth before I press my mouth against her again.

This time, I’m fucking ravenous. Squeezing my cock, I plunge my tongue, lapping her up. A cold sweat breaks out over my skin, my balls ache, and my mouth is on fire from how fast I’m working my tongue along her clit, begging for her to release.

“Fuck . . . fuuuuck.” Rylee’s hips lightly pound against the glass as they move with my tongue and she screams, the sound echoing through our small room. “God, oh God, yes.” She continues to move her hips, burying them over my mouth. My hand still holds my cock, my tongue going along for the ride until she slows her hips down.

I take no time in standing and scooping her up in my arms only to toss her on the bed. Her black hair drapes over her face, but the moment she moves it out of the way, I’m met with the most stated and beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.

She takes a deep breath and looks at me, her eyes spending more time on my erection. I swear to God, if eyes could smile, hers just did. And that goddamn tongue of hers, it licks her lips as her legs fall to the side, her heels kicked off in her transfer to the bed.

I nod with my head and say, “Scoot the fuck back and grab the headboard.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

I start stroking my cock, my body tingling with each and every pass of my hand. “Then I have no problem pleasuring myself in front of you.”

“Doesn’t that only work when women do that?” She runs her hand down on her wet pussy. My jaw tightens.

Not wanting to break, I continue to stroke and shut my eyes for effect. “You tell me.” I groan from the pressure and when I open my eyes up, she scoots back toward the headboard and grips.

So responsive. Love that.

“Beautiful,” I say, leaning over her for a brief second to place a chaste kiss on each of her nipples. I retreat to my bag, grab a condom, and toss it on the nightstand. “I’m going to warn you right now. I’m not going to be gentle. I probably won’t have much finesse either, but I promise you, after our first round, I’ll be better.” I run a hand over my head. “You got me so fucking twisted that if I don’t get inside you soon, I’ll lose my damn mind.”

Smiling, she says, “Then what are you waiting for?” She spreads her legs even farther and my mouth waters. I need this woman. I need her so bad.

Picking up the condom, I tear it open and sheath myself, watching how her eyes never stray from my cock.

Hard as stone, I hover over Rylee and press the head of my cock through her slit, squeezing my eyes shut from how good she feels.

“Rylee, fuck . . .”

I crash my lips to hers and just when I think I might be too rough with my mouth, she matches each and every stroke of my tongue. We mesh, our mouths fusing together, both striving for more, both begging for more. Her hips ride up against mine, her center teasing the fuck out of my dick, warm and soft, enticing.

With my tongue gliding across hers, I grip one of her breasts and squeeze, catching her gasp in my mouth. Been dreaming about these tits for days. My fingers find her already puckered nipple. I roll the pink nub between my fingers, loving her involuntary hip movements.

“I want to touch you, Beck.”

I start playing with her other nipple. Her breasts aren’t huge but they aren’t small either. The perfect handful.

“Touch me then.”

Moving her hands through my hair, down my neck, to my back, past the slope of my ass, she grips my cheeks and starts to grind them against her pelvis. I accidentally squeeze too hard on her nipple from the feeling of her pussy pressed against my dick. She squeaks but then kisses me lightly.

“Again,” she asks, so damn innocently I can’t help but listen to her direction. I squeeze her nipple again, this time a little harder. A sharp hiss escapes past her lips as her back arches off the mattress, the look of utter pleasure crossing her features.

Shit, I can’t hold back now.

“I need to be inside you.” I grip my aching cock and place it in front of her entrance. With one smooth stroke, I squeeze myself in. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

She breathes heavily, her eyes wide now. “You’re . . . so . . . different.”

Chuckling softly, my hips gently moving back and forth, I say, “I hope that’s a damn good thing.”

“So good.” She lifts her hands to the headboard and with a light kiss to my lips, she whispers, “Fuck me, Beck.”

Melting into our touch, I brace myself on the bed and start to slowly move my hips in and out of her, glancing down at our connection, loving how deep she can take me, how her legs are spread so far that with each pulse inside her, I bottom out.

So hot.

So tight.

So damn sexy.

Every little moan that passes Rylee’s lips is like an electric jolt straight to my cock, spurring me on, driving my hips harder and harder. I grind against her pelvis, swiveling with each thrust, trying to hit all the right spots, and from the look of pure ecstasy on her face, I’m doing just that.

“More,” she pants as her hands move to her breasts and pinch her nipples.

There will be none of that. Lowering my head, I nudge her hand out of the way and take one of her pebbled nipples into my mouth where I bite down on the swollen nub. She lifts off the bed, her movement forcefully clenching her around my cock.

Oh fuck.

“Do . . . that again,” I grunt out, my eyes feeling like they’re about to roll back in my head.

Without pause, she clenches around me, once, twice, three times.

And I’m a goner.

A guttural groan escapes me as my hips still and Rylee pulses around me, milking me so fucking hard that my vision goes black. All I hear are her cries of ecstasy as I bite down on her nipple once more, my orgasm taking over.

My balls ache, my dick throbs, my heart pounds uncontrollably in my chest as I try to catch my breath.

Huffing, sweating, and completely sated, I barely lift up and look at Rylee, eyes closed and a beautiful smile on her face.

Wanting to see those endless pools of blue, I press a light kiss over each eyelid. They flutter open and she meets my gaze.

Fucking gorgeous.

So. Fucking. Gorgeous.

Licking her upper lip, she says, “That was . . . incredible.”

Instead of replying, I kiss her, to make sure that this is real, that what we just experienced wasn’t a dream, that I truly have this undeniably amazing woman in my arms. In my bed.

Her hand curls around my neck, her thumb playing with the short strands of my hair. When I pull away, I kiss her nose and take off to the bathroom where I dispose of the condom. When I come back to the bed, Rylee is sitting up, scanning the room, an unsure look on her face.

Well, not for long.

Tackling her, I bring her down to the mattress and spoon the hell out of her, cupping her body against mine.

“Oh, is this happening?” she asks, sounding light and playful.

“What? Spooning you? Yeah, it’s happening. But only until I can gain back some strength, and then, my sexy, Saucy, I’ll be taking it nice and slow, making you come over and over.”

“Awfully confident, aren’t we?”

“Saucy, from the way you react so passionately to my touch, I have no doubt in my mind.”

No response, only a nuzzle from her behind, and a contented sigh.

I’m right there with her.

* * *

There’s some rustling next to me, and I barely register the sound in my sex-induced coma. It isn’t until a cool breeze hits me that I realize I’m alone. Peering an eye open, I scan the room to find Rylee on the other side of the sliding glass door, quietly shutting it.

Is she leaving?

I lift my head barely to look at the time. Five in the morning. Shit, her early flight. Dragging my body out of bed, feeling satisfying aches from last night, I throw on a pair of shorts that are hanging out of my suitcase and pad across the floor, stubbing my toe on the desk chair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I dance around for a second, swearing until my toe stops throbbing. Limping like an idiot, I make my way out onto my balcony just in time to see Rylee close her door. Before she can lock it, I grab the handle and open it up.

“Ah, what are you doing?” she asks, startled.

“Sorry,” I say, my toe still throbbing. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Uh, that’s okay.” She’s barely wearing the dress she wore to the wedding last night and her shoes are clutched to her chest. “You should be sleeping, Beck.”

“Yeah, and you should be next to me.” I take a step forward as she sighs.

“I have to get ready for my flight. I have no more than ten minutes before I have to call an Uber. My guess is Victoria is on her way here to make sure I leave this room on time.”

Sounds just like Victoria.

Awkwardly, I stand there, trying to figure out what to say.

Last night was . . . fuck, I don’t know. It was the kind of night you never forget. It was the kind of night that changes your way of thinking.

Going into this trip, I wanted to have a good time, and if I met a girl, hey, bonus. I had no intention of leaving this island with any girl on my mind. But after last night, after these last few days, I know there is no way in hell I can say goodbye to Rylee right now.

I want more of her.

I feel like we’re beginning something new, not shutting the door on a brief chapter in our lives.

Looking uncomfortable, Rylee fidgets in place. “Uh, good thing we took a shower early this morning, huh?” She pulls on her hair. “I can roll right into plane clothes and take off.”

Ignoring her small talk, I take a step forward and say, “Rylee, we need to talk.”

Before she can let me get anything else in, she shakes her head. “No need to talk, Beck. Let’s shake hands, thank each other for the amazing night, and go our separate ways.”

“What If I’m not ready to go my separate way?”

Sighing heavily, Rylee starts moving around the room, collecting her belongings and shoving them in her bag while she speaks to me. “Beck, don’t be ridiculous. From the beginning, we knew this was only a little fling in Key West. Don’t be that cliché, wanting more after a promised fling. Come on.”

“Cliché? What the hell are you talking about?”

Undoing her dress and letting it fall to the floor, she unabashedly strips in front of me and starts dressing herself in a pair of leggings, sports bra, and long-sleeved T-shirt. I can’t help but stare, soak her in one more time before she leaves. “It happens in all the movies. The promise of a vacation fling and then one of the lovers wants more. Can’t we call it like it is and be done? Why complicate things?”

Getting a little angry, I say, “Maybe because I want more. Maybe because I want to see where this might go.”

She throws her hair in a high bun, her silky black strands binding together. “Don’t be ridiculous, Beck. I live in Maine, and you live in Southern California. We couldn’t live on two more opposite sides of the spectrum.”

“That’s just miles.”

She packs her small backpack with her phone, laptop, and wallet. “Lots of miles.”

“Something we can easily work out.”

She shakes her head and zips all her bags up, putting an end to this conversation, especially with what she says next. “And what about all the space between us, not physically, but mentally? There are parts of you that you haven’t opened up to me about, like why you don’t drink and who this Christine chick is. And there are parts of me you don’t know about, dark parts of my life that frankly I’m not willing to share.”

She stumps me there. There are parts of me I don’t share because I’m too fucking ashamed to share them with anyone new. Yes, I’ve turned a new leaf in life, but I’m still not comfortable with the man I used to be, nor do I want to share that part of my life, the part I’ve shut out of the outside world.

Cal’s the only one I really talk to about it, but that’s only because he won’t let me forget, because the minute you forget is the minute you can find yourself back in the same spot. It’s what he always tells me.

There is a knock on her door. “You better be up and ready to go. You know I like to get to the airport early,” Victoria’s voice sounds from the other side of the door.

Shrugging her shoulders, Rylee gives me a sad smile, puts her backpack on, and starts to roll her suitcase to the door.

“So that’s it?” I ask, unsure of what else to say.

Knock. Knock. “Rylee, let’s go.”

“Yeah, Beck, that’s it.” She opens the door to an impatient Victoria. “Give me one second.”

“We don’t have . . .” Victoria spots me and her face softens. “I’ll, uh, go get an Uber.”

Turning away, her wheelie bag rolling behind her, she disappears down the outside hallway, providing me a few extra minutes with Rylee.

Releasing the handle of her bag, Rylee steps up to me and wraps her arms around my waist, pulling me into a hug. And when she looks up at me, those crystal-blue eyes of hers captivating me, a pang or sorrow hits me in the stomach.

Is this really goodbye?

“Thank you for everything, Beck. Thank you for the fun, the memories”—she smiles sheepishly—“the orgasms.” Stepping back, she grips my hand and says, “Thank you for showing me how to let go and have fun again. You unlocked a part of me I haven’t seen in a while.” She squeezes my hand and puts more distance between us, retreating to her bag. “Bye, Beck.”

Opening the door again, she gives me one last glance before heading out of the room.

Is this really how this is going to end? With a quick hug and a thank you? After the past few days we’ve shared together, this is really it?

Fuck, I don’t want it to be.

“Wait,” I call out, pulling her back by the arm. I clamp my hand around the back of her neck and bring her mouth to mine where I lay sweet kisses across her lips. Her hands wrap around my arms and she matches each movement of my mouth across hers before breaking away.

“I have to go.” She presses her fingers to her mouth. With one final glance in my direction, she says, “Bye, Beck,” and takes off, out of her room and out of my life.

Forever.

Fuck.

* * *

Dude, you’ve barely spoken a word all day,” Chris says while peeling back the wrapper to his cheeseburger. “I gave you the first flight because leaving paradise sucks, but now that we’re waiting for our second and you didn’t want a burger from Five Guys, I’m starting to feel a little concerned.”

“Just not hungry,” I say, staring at my phone.

“Not buying it,” Chris says with his mouth full. “Did you leave something at the hotel? A charger? Dude, we can get you a new one, it’s going to be okay, pal.” Chris pats me on the shoulder with his greasy hand.

“I didn’t leave my charger.”

“Oh . . . good then. Want to get some candy bars? I’m feeling NutRageous right now, that and a Take 5. Have you had one of those yet?”

“I’m good, man.” I wave him off and scan through my texts, Rylee’s name popping up with every scroll of back and forth I do.

“Not even a Milky Way?”

“Leave him alone,” Justine says, finally pulling her head out of her iPad. “Can’t you see he’s upset from having to say goodbye to Rylee?” Leaning toward me, she adds, “By the way, she’s a fantastic author.”

Don’t I fucking know it. I read the book I started the other day on the airplane. It isn’t just about sex; it’s about the compelling storyline with broken characters. It’s beautiful how she can express so much with words.

“Oh, this is a Rylee thing. Dude, I thought you guys were just flinging it.”

“We were.” I sit back in the uncomfortable airport chair and pass a hand over my face, trying to scrub thoughts of Rylee out of me, but nothing seems to work. She’s etched in my brain.

“But . . .” Chris pushes me to say more.

“I don’t know, man, what do you want me to say? That I miss her? That I wish there was more to our little fling than a chaste goodbye this morning?”

“Maybe?”

Justine whacks Chris in the arm. “Don’t be a dick. Be a friend.”

“Ouch.” He rubs his arm. “You and I both know I’m not good at this touchy-feely kind of crap. Let me warm up before you start hitting me.”

It’s fun traveling and hanging out with a married couple, have I mentioned that? Especially a couple who’ve been together for a little over ten years.

“No need to talk about it.” I cut him off before he can try to open me up more than I want to be. “I’m good, just trying to get out of vacation mode.”

“See?” Chris motions to me. “He’s floating down from vacation mode.”

Justine rolls her eyes and pushes Chris out of the way. “You are so obtuse. Do us all a favor and go get your candy bars and some chocolate-covered pretzels for me, yogurt-covered for Beck. He’ll want them for the flight.” Justine knows me too damn well.

Taking direction well, and most likely wanting to get away from this conversation as fast as possible, he takes off, one of his burger napkins sticking to the back of his jeans.

“God, he’s a disaster.” Justine chuckles. “I don’t know why I keep him around.”

“Me neither.”

Justine places her hand on my knee and forces me to meet her gaze. “Tell me everything and don’t try to get away with saying there is nothing to tell. I wasn’t born yesterday, Beck. I know when you’re reeling from something, and right now, you’re tailspinning. Talk to me.”

There is something you need to know about Justine. She’s very good at getting what she wants. It’s the way she softly speaks to you but with a no-bullshit attitude. The combination is lethal and when you think your mouth is a steel trap, you find yourself divulging your darkest secrets.

I flip my phone in my hands. “I didn’t expect to like her as much as I do.”

“You guys had an interesting kind of connection. I liked her.”

“I agree.” I tip my head back and look to the ceiling. “And I can’t quite figure out if the connection was from being on vacation and being in the same frame of mind, or if we actually had this cosmic pull to each other.”

“Anyone can be in the same frame of mind, especially when it comes to vacation mode, but there was definitely something between you two. What you had wasn’t magical vacation mode, it was deeper than that.”

“But how was it deeper? We only skimmed the surface when we talked about things. Like she so brutally pointed out when she left, there are things in my life she doesn’t know, some dark things, and vice versa. From what it seems, we were both hiding from each other, while enjoying one another at the same time. How is that deep? Seems more shallow to me. Maybe she’s right, maybe it truly was just a fling.”

Justine shakes her head. “You know connecting on a deeper level isn’t just about talking about your pasts and the dark parts of your lives, because that’s only a little segment of feeling something deeper with another human. Connecting with another soul is about complementing each other’s sense of humor, adventurous side, and of course, sexual chemistry. From observing you two the past few days, you had all three covered.”

I can’t argue with her. I connected with Rylee more than any other woman, even Noely. And maybe that was scary to her if she felt the same thing.

Sighing, I say, “That’s great and all, but it doesn’t matter. She really doesn’t want anything to do with me past Key West.”

“Did she say that?”

I nod. “In a much nicer way, but that was the gist of it. To her, it was a fling, which is fair because that’s all it was supposed to be.”

“But it was much more to you.” From the very first moment I saw her.

I nod again. “Hell, I don’t want it to be. I’m not ready to expose someone else to my world, especially Rylee, but fuck, there is this pain churning in my gut, telling me that letting her walk away was a huge mistake.”

“Eeep.” Justine claps her hands together. “Oh, it’s so romantic, seeing you all tied up in knots.”

I roll my eyes. Not surprised Justine is getting giddy. Ever since I got my life back on track, she’s been rooting for me to meet someone. It was one of the main reasons I tried doing the blind dating thing six months ago. After that didn’t pan out, she kept nagging me to try again, but I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to do so. I’m starting to think I might never be in the right frame of mind.

“I’m not asking for a marriage here,” I continue. “I wanted to talk to her some more, you know? Kind of see where this could take us.”

“That’s fair. What’s holding you back?”

I stare at my phone again. “There’s over three thousand miles separating us.”

“So? You’re not committed to living in LA. Who knows, maybe if this turns serious, you can find a cute little art gallery to paint for. Don’t let the small, insignificant factors stop you from pursuing something that could be incredible.”

I pause to think about her words as Chris comes barreling forward. “I have the goods.” He flops down between Justine and me. “Did we figure everything out?”

“Yup, Beck is going to go after the girl.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that.”

“Oh please,” Justine scoffs. “It’s written all over your face. Stop letting your brain deny it, and let your heart take the lead.” She nods at my phone. “Go ahead, text her. You know you want to.”

I do, desperately. I’ve been trying to think of the perfect text to send her that wasn’t lame, but that reminded her of the time we had together.

“Oh I’m good at texting. Let me take the lead on this.” Chris steals my phone from my hands.

Before Chris can look at the phone, Justine snags it from his grasp. “You are a shit texter. All you do is use GIFs.”

“Funny ones.”

“You only send storm troopers pelvic-thrusting in the air.”

True. If you scrolled through my phone and clicked on my message thread with Chris, the percentage of texts you would see with a storm trooper humping the air is too high to guess.

“That’s because a humping storm trooper is pretty much a universal response.” He rolls his eyes, as if we’re the weird ones. “Believe me, you’re going to want me to handle this text message.”

While Justine is busy giving her husband a hard time, I steal back my phone, not wanting either of them to participate in texting Rylee.

“Hey, I can help. I’m poetic,” Justine complains.

My brows crease together. “I’m not writing her a poem. Christ, that would be weird.”

“Why not? I like rhyming. I’m good at it. For instance”—she clears her throat—“pussies are pink, dicks are stiff, spread your legs so I can get one last whiff. See, poetic and enticing.”

Chris and I silently stare at Justine, utterly confused as to where the hell that little poem came from. And slightly grossed out . . .

She motions at the two of us. “See? Stunned you both, so imagine Rylee’s response. She’ll be flying to LA before you know it with one thing on her mind: your tongue.”

“For the love of God.” Chris looks around. “No more Rylee Ryan books for you. They’re turning you into a pervert.”

“Please.” Justine laughs. “I was a pervert long before I started reading her books; she’s only reminded me of the potential I have inside me.”

“Lucky me.”

Ignoring the bickering married couple, I check my phone again, kind of wishing there was a text from Rylee, waiting for me. Knowing that’s probably not going to happen after how we left things, I’m going to have to make the first move.

Lips twisted to the side, I try to think the perfect—

I got it!

I press on the little camera emblem and find the picture of us in front of the helicopter. I add it to our text message thread and type out a comment with it before I send.

Beck: Can’t stop thinking about that smile of yours. The smile I got to see every day for the past few days, the one that brightened my vacation, the one that seems to be fogging up my brain now.

Happy, I press send and wait.

And wait.

And fucking wait.