GARRETT ANSWERED THE DOOR LOOKING adorably sleep-rumpled. His hair stuck out in odd angles all over his head and his glasses lifted from his face as he reached up to rub his eyes. “Do you have something against sleeping in?” he grumbled.
“Aww, Boo, aren’t you happy to see me?” I asked, pushing my bottom lip out in a pretend pout.
He narrowed his eyes at me, clearly unmoved by my puppy dog eyes. “It’s vacation, Boo.”
“I brought coffee,” I said in a singsong voice, raising the paper cup in the air so he could see.
Rolling his eyes, he snatched the cup from my hand and turned, heading back into the house. I didn’t bother to hide my grin as I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. I followed him into the living room where he plopped down onto the couch with a tired sigh.
“So, I take it you’re not much of a morning person,” I teased, taking a seat beside him.
“What was your first clue?” I laughed at his grumpy response.
“Okay, Mr. Crankypants. How about I go make us something for breakfast while you drink your coffee and work on waking up. I’ve got big plans for us this morning and they’ll go much smoother if you’re actually conscious.” Garrett grumbled something which may not have been very nice, but I took it as his agreement. Planting a quick kiss on the side of his mouth, I jumped up and headed into the kitchen.
Rummaging through his fridge, I began pulling out the ingredients for omelets. I moved around his kitchen, searching first for a frying pan, then a cutting board. I worked quickly, chopping onions, mushrooms, and green peppers. I set them aside as I heated a little oil in the pan and cracked the eggs into a bowl. I was busy whisking them when Garrett stumbled in and sat down on one of the stools at the island counter. I looked over my shoulder, giving him a cheerful smile as I ended the song I’d been singing.
“Do you sing in any of your movies?” he asked, chin in hand as he watched me work.
“God no,” I answered with a chuckle, pouring the eggs into the pan.
“Hmm. That must be why you got the part.” I spun around, my jaw hanging open. Garrett batted his eyes at me innocently, but I could see his lips twitching as he struggled to hold in a laugh.
“Ooooh! I can see I’m going to have to tell them to leave the funny juice out of your coffee tomorrow,” I said with a smirk. He lost the fight then, giving in to his laughter.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?” he asked, moving around the counter to grab a couple of glasses. He poured orange juice into each while I filled the omelets with the chopped vegetables and some shredded cheese. Folding them in half, I plated our food and carried it over to the island. I sat down next to Garrett and held a fork up for him. He reached for it, but I pulled it out of his reach.
“A fork for a kiss,” I informed him. He arched a brow at me, but leaned forward, brushing his lips over mine. I licked at the seam of his mouth, begging him to let me in. He opened for me and I dove in, moaning at the taste of him. I knew that if I wasn’t careful, I could easily become addicted to having the flavor of him on my tongue. In fact, I could see myself becoming addicted to several things about him, like the sound of his laugh or the way he responded to my touch.
I’d always been a tactile kind of guy. As a kid, the only kind of touch I’d received had been the back of my dad’s hand. When I first met Bethany’s family, I’d been shocked at how often they touched each other. Her mom was always smoothing Bethany’s hair off her shoulder and her dad greeted everyone with a warm hug. I’d nearly wept the first time he’d embraced me in his strong arms. I hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed that basic human contact.
Ever since then, I’d craved having a physical connection with other people. I liked holding hands or laying my hand on a guy’s leg as we watched a movie together. Unfortunately, a lot of the men I’d dated hadn’t liked it. They saw it as suffocating or overbearing. One guy had even accused me of smothering him, all because I’d reached for his hand across the dinner table.
Garrett was different though. I liked the little noises he made in the back of his throat that reminded me of a cat purring as it was petted, whenever I ran my fingers through his hair. And I was particularly fond of the way he’d nuzzle his face in the crook of my neck whenever I hugged him. He’d been shy at first, but the more time we spent together, the more he’d begun initiating his own touches. The gentle smile that graced his lips whenever we did something as simple as holding hands, made me think that maybe he needed that connection just as much as I did.
“Mmm. Maybe I’ll just eat you for breakfast instead,” I whispered, nibbling at his plump, bottom lip and tugging it gently between my teeth.
“Nope. You woke me up at the ass crack of dawn. The least you can do is let me eat my breakfast,” he said, snatching the fork from my hand.
“Ass crack of dawn?” I laughed.
Garrett pursed his lips primly. “It’s a thing. Now, answer my question.” He stopped to take a bite of his breakfast, moaning at the taste. “Oh my God! This is so good. Where did you learn to cook like this?”
I shrugged, staring down at my plate. “I had to fend for myself a lot growing up. I could either learn to cook or starve. Now, what question didn’t I answer?”
I looked up at him when he didn’t respond right away. He was staring at me with an almost pained expression on his face. I could see the questions burning in his eyes, but he must have sensed my discomfort because he turned his attention back to his breakfast. “I asked you what we were doing today.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as the tension bled out of my shoulders. “Okay, so I thought maybe we could go surfing.”
Garrett gave me a startled look. “I don’t know how to surf.”
“I figured that might be the case. That’s why I’m going to teach you,” I said, leaning over and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. The look on his face was skeptical, but he didn’t say anything else as we finished our breakfast.
What the hell am I thinking? I was the guy who stuck to the list every time I went to the grocery store. I was the guy whose shirts were all hung neatly in color-coded order in his closet. I was the guy who wrote about other people doing daring things and risking their lives for a quick thrill. I wasn’t the guy who went out looking for adventures of his own. Yet, there I was, in Hawaii, riding in the car next to a smoking-hot guy who just happened to be a movie star, as he drove us to his private beach, so he could teach me how to surf.
“Did you know that there were one hundred and fifty-five documented shark attacks last year? Five of them were fatal. And while that may not seem like a lot, given the total, it was still five fatalities; as in…dead.”
Dean glanced over at me, taking his eyes off the road. “Sounds like somebody’s been watching too much Shark Week.”
“Do you want to know how many of those attacks happened right here, in Hawaii?” I asked, ignoring the obvious amusement in his voice.
He reached over and covered my hands with one of his, effectively halting my fidgeting. “No, I don’t need to hear the number of shark attacks in Hawaii because you’re not going to be one of them,” he stated calmly.
“How can you know that for sure?” I turned to him with an exasperated huff.
“It’s simple actually. Sharks live in the water and you’re not going in the water today. Well, not past your waist at least.”
My head fell back against the headrest. “I’m going to need more coffee if you’re going to continue speaking in riddles all day,” I grumbled.
Dean burst out laughing, but he swallowed it down as I shot him a glare. He gave my hands a gentle squeeze, looking contrite. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t explaining things very clearly. To teach you how to surf, first, you have to learn how to balance your weight properly on the board. That’s much easier to do on dry land than out in the ocean. So, for today, we stay on the beach and in very shallow water.”
“So, no sharks?”
“No sharks.”
I sighed dramatically. “Thank God!”
Dean was still laughing as we pulled past a gate and up a long driveway, stopping in front of a beachfront mansion that was so enormous, I first mistook it as being three separate homes. I stared in awe at the beautiful tan stucco home, designed using a Mediterranean style architecture. A large koi pond sat in the middle of the circular driveway and there were tennis courts off to the right of the house.
“We’re here.” I turned my head to look at him and my eyes shot up in surprise when I realized that not only had we stopped moving, but he was standing outside of the car. “You plan on staying in there all day?”
“Uh, yeah. I mean no. Sorry, I just forgot,” I stammered as I hurried to get out of the car.
Dean looked at me curiously as I walked around to where he stood. “What did you forget?”
I looked toward the mansion then back at him. “I guess I forgot that you’re Vincent Wilder, world-famous celebrity. To me, you’re just Dean Wilder, interrupter of sleep and giver of the mega-gasms,” I teased. I chuckled at my own joke, but Dean didn’t join in. Instead, he stared at me as if he had never seen me before or as if my words had confused him.
For just a second, I worried that I may have upset him in some way, but then he reached for me, pulling me in for a kiss that was so sweet, so achingly perfect, that it left me a little stunned and a whole lot breathless. He held me in his gaze as he rested his forehead against mine. “I like that I’m just Dean to you,” he whispered.
My skin suddenly felt too tight and there was a strange fluttering in my chest. Tilting my chin up, I kissed him again, long and hard until we were both breathing heavily, and I could see his pulse racing in the hollow of his throat.
“Come on, let me show you the rest of the house and then we’ll start your first surfing lesson,” he exclaimed enthusiastically. I fought the urge to roll my eyes as he led me up the steps and through a set of oak doors. He’d find out all on his own how very uncoordinated I could be.
The inside of his home was even more impressive than the outside, with shiny marble floors and not just one, but two staircases that led to a second and third floor. I walked beside him as he gave me a tour, pointing out some of his favorite things about the house, which included a home theater, complete with candy station and popcorn machine, and the racquetball court in the left wing of the house. There were fifteen bedrooms and twelve bathrooms spread throughout his home along with one indoor and two outdoor pools.
“I know it probably seems like a bit much,” he said, almost apologetically.
“It is rather large,” I agreed slowly then I noticed his face fall. “But it’s also incredibly beautiful.”
Dean shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and stared down at the floor. “Bethany said the same thing when I brought her here. She’s my best friend, has been since we were little. She took one look at it and told me that it was too much house for just one person, especially a house that has no one living in it for most of the year.” He looked up and my breath caught at the look of pure longing on his face. “Then I told her that it may be a lot of house right now, but someday, when we’re both married to our soul mates and we have about ten kids between our two families, that we might want to come here in the summers, and then it’ll be just the right amount of house.”
Closing the distance between us, I wrapped my arms around him. “I think that was incredibly smart thinking on your part. Your kids are going to love this place,” I assured him, laying my cheek against his shoulder. His arms wound around me easily and we stood there for several minutes, simply holding on to one another. I could feel his heart beating through the thin layers of our shirts and his warm, clean scent, now very familiar to me, filled my senses.
When I closed my eyes, I could picture the scene he’d just described; little kids running all around, some of them looking just like miniature versions of Dean. They’d spend the day splashing each other in the pool and making sandcastles on the beach while Dean and the other adults watched over them and sipped sangria. I could picture all of it clearly; everything except the man who’d been lucky enough to capture Dean’s heart. I didn’t know why I couldn’t imagine him. Perhaps it was because I wasn’t sure a man existed who deserved someone as good and as kind as Dean.
“You ready to start your lesson?” he asked.
“You sure we can’t just go back to the waterfall instead? I had a very good time at the waterfall.” I wiggled my brows at him playfully, making him laugh.
“Tell you what, you spend the morning learning how to surf and I’ll take you back to the waterfall this afternoon.”
“Deal,” I agreed, reaching my hand out so we could shake on it. He grabbed me up and kissed me instead, which, as far as I was concerned, was a much better way to seal a deal.
A few hours later, Garrett flopped onto his stomach with a loud groan, landing in the sand beside his abandoned surfboard. “Uncle. Mercy. I surrender,” he mumbled pitifully.
He’d proven to be a quick learner and had even seemed to surprise himself with how well he was able to balance his weight on a surfboard. Still, he’d staunchly refused to go out in any water higher than his waist, reciting even more supposedly well known, but probably only known to him, facts about shark attacks. When he started to remind me that the teenage girl from the movie Soul Surfer had lost her arm to a shark right there in Hawaii, I finally gave up and called it a day.
“Wow! And they say actors are dramatic,” I teased, dropping down beside him.
He turned his head, allowing one gorgeous gray eye to glare up at me. “I know you can’t possibly understand because you’re you…”
“Hey! What does that mean?” I cut in, but he continued as if I hadn’t even spoken.
“And you could probably lift a pickup truck by yourself…”
“Meh. Maybe just a small car,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“And you probably spend every weekend winning Iron Man competitions…”
I nodded. “I have come in first in a few marathons.”
“And you probably could wrestle a tiger with your bare hands…” After a few seconds of silence, Garrett lifted his head to look at me, squinting against the bright sun. “What? No response to that one?”
“No. Now, you’re just being ridiculous.”
He huffed out a laugh as he rolled over onto his back. “Oh, I’m being ridiculous?”
“Yes,” I insisted, fighting back a grin. I loved it when he got all riled up almost as much as I loved his grumpy morning attitude and his quick sense of humor. In fact, there really wasn’t anything about Garrett Sullivan I didn’t find completely charming and adorable.
“No. Ridiculous is your almost superhuman strength and never-ending stamina,” he argued.
He gasped as I quickly rolled on top of him, holding myself up on my forearms so I wouldn’t crush him beneath my weight. His breathing turned choppy as I slid the tip of my nose along his then grazed it slowly along his jaw, breathing in the heady mixture of coconut suntan lotion, sunshine, and man. He whimpered as my tongue darted out, tracing the outline of his mouth and licking the salt from his lips.
“I thought you liked my stamina,” I whispered, dipping my head down and running my tongue in a slow circle around his nipple.
“I do.” He arched his back, his hands flying to my head as I took the tiny bud into my mouth, sucking on it until it stood at attention then I moved to the other nipple, giving it the same consideration. His fingers sifted through my hair, tugging at the strands as he mumbled incoherently.
Garrett bucked his hips as I reached for the waistband of his swim trunks, but I merely grazed my hand along the elastic band, teasing him with my fingertips as I licked the thin line of hair below his navel. His cock pressed against the flimsy material of his trunks, as if begging for my touch. My eyes took a lingering stroll up the length of his body, across the miles of silky smooth skin that had turned a nice golden color after a few days in the sun. Lust had turned his eyes a dark, smoky gray and he was watching me under heavy lids.
“That’s a good thing. That’s a very good thing,” I said, flashing him a wicked grin. “Because I plan on exploring every delectable inch of you tonight.”