LATER THAT NIGHT I stood in my room, fidgeting in front of the mirror and waiting for Rue to deliver her verdict. The blue halter gave me decent cleavage while leaving my upper back bare, and the white skirt was flirty but short. My makeup was smokier than normal, and I’d taken the time to straighten my hair and treat it with an anti-frizz serum that was probably not strong enough to withstand the evening humidity, but, really, that was asking for a miracle.
I adjusted my push-up bra. And, seriously, this bra was a push-up champion. Like, it wasn’t doing any on-the-knees girlie push-up. Oh, no, this bra was a one armed, feet spread—hoorah!—kind of push-up bra. My girls were looking as good as unsurgically possible. I was fervently hoping they would help compensate for my rusty flirting skills.
Rue inspected me, hand on her hip. She was stunning, of course. She had on a purple jersey dress that softly hugged her curves and made her waist seem tiny. To clarify, Rue always looked curvy and tiny-waisted. She was letting her twins go free tonight and easily had me beat by a good cup size. Still, she was rocking that dress something fierce. Her dark brown hair was hanging in big loose curls, and earlier in the week she had dyed the ends hot pink. It should have looked ridiculous, but on her, it was both girly and edgy. The pink ends brushed the tops of her breasts and drew attention there. The guys were going to be lining up for her tonight. And I hoped that whichever hottie picked her had a cute wingman who needed a little company too.
“I think the problem is the shoes,” she decided. She went over to my closet and rummaged around until she found a pair with taller heels. “Here, try these with it.”
I traded shoes and did a slow spin for her. She nodded, satisfied. “You’ll get laid. Probably someone more preppy than bad boy, though. You still look too wholesome.”
“I know. I can’t pull off the whole sex kitten vibe like you can,” I grumbled.
It was an old joke between us. But there was no real animosity. I tamed her down somewhat, and she pushed me out of my comfort zone. She got us into trouble and, well, yeah, she always got us into trouble, and I was there following right behind her. Full disclosure, she was the one to get us out of the trouble too. Proof? I’d been pulled over for speeding seven times since starting college. I’d been ticketed three times—the times I’d been in the car solo. When Rue was with me, she batted those pretty brown eyes of hers or turned on the waterworks, and once, the cop had apologized to us.
Rue had been pulled over six times and had yet to get a single fine.
She was the master. I was a terrible student.
“It’s a gift.” She shrugged, nonplussed.
I checked my purse one more time, making sure the condoms were tucked inside, along with my phone. I didn’t bother to put away the two discarded outfits Rue had vetoed earlier. The rule was no flings at the cottage. Hook ups were conducted strictly at the hotel or rental house of the guy. It made both clean up and exit strategy that much simpler.
We were going to Anchor, one of the two tourist bars on the island. Rue preferred it over the other place, Porthole, because the drinks were better, less watered down and higher quality alcohol. We’d waited until nine to start getting ready to make sure we’d have plenty of options by the time we got there.
Anchor was the island spot to see and be seen. It had a long curved bar, concert style lighting, and a large, two-level dance floor in the back. A live deejay played there most nights during the summer and on the weekends the rest of the year. As we walked in, one of the bartenders nodded at Rue, pointed at her hair, and gave her a thumbs-up. Rue smiled at him and motioned to me. “That’s Jason. If anyone gives you trouble, let him know, and he’ll take care of it for you.” The bartender had a shaved head and stubble, a look that worked for him, and I repeated his name to myself. He lifted his chin in acknowledgement and turned back to the girls almost falling over the bar trying to get his attention.
We snagged a table close to the dance floor so we could check out the scenery. The place wasn’t at capacity, since it was still late spring and tourist season was just starting, but there were over a hundred people out there. Rue was murmuring to me about a pair of guys wearing Clemson shirts over near the deejay booth when shots materialized in front of us. Rue turned to look at the two guys bearing gifts and lifted an eyebrow.
“You looked thirsty, and we thought we’d take care of that for you,” the one in the blue polo said, eyeing Rue like she was his last meal. “I’m Eric, and this is my cousin Jared. Your hair caught my eye. You seem spicy, and I love playing with fire. Dance with me?”
Rue glanced at me and winked. She downed her shot, grabbed Eric’s hand, and headed for the dance floor. I glanced at the guy who must be Jared. He grinned at me, his gaze lingering on my legs. At least he appreciated my best feature. “Wanna dance?”
Jared was tall and lanky with buzzed hair and a button down shirt rolled up his forearms. His nose appeared to have been broken before, and his smile was crooked but sweet. He was adorable. And really, I wasn’t feeling picky.
“I’m Sadie,” I told him, as we drank our shots and then followed after Rue and Eric.
Jared took my hand and led me to the middle of the dance floor. Pulling my hips close to him, he faced me and began to move to the music. He danced well for such a tall guy, not awkward at all. That boded well for later, I mused.
“Do you live here or are you visiting?” He leaned close to my ear to speak, his breath warming my neck.
“Visiting.” I lied without an ounce of guilt.
He nodded and then seemed content to drop the conversation. His hands slid around to the small of my back and dipped low, sitting right above my butt. My hands ran up his arms to his neck, and my hips swayed with the beat of the techno club music. His hair was surprisingly soft considering its short length, and he smelled good, like expensive cologne. I sighed and shifted a little closer, so our hips were almost touching. I’d forgotten how fun this part of being single was.
Rue walked past with Eric, and she flashed me a thumbs-up sign. I grinned at her and then turned back to Jared. We danced for over an hour, watching each other through half-closed eyes. Thank God he wasn’t one of those guys who made weird faces while he danced or checked out other women the whole time. He focused on me.
The song changed, and he spun me around, pulling my butt flush to his hips and grinding with me. His erection grew and pressed into me through his pants. I smiled to myself and rubbed against him, dipping low and slowly shimmying back up. A deep groan vibrated through his chest against my back. His fingers tightened on my hips, and he leaned down and brushed his lips over the shell of my ear. I shivered and melted back against him.
When the song faded, we headed to the bar, threading our way through the crowd. Jared caught the bartender’s attention, and the man brought us bottles of Yeungling. Jared hadn’t even checked with me first. I tried not to be irked and reminded myself it wasn’t his manners I was interested in. Priorities. He smelled good, wasn’t sweating like a pig even after all that dancing—another good indicator for later—and he was buying. So far, so good.
The pair of barstools we roosted on next to each other sat close enough my leg was pressed against his. His hand on my lower back was warm and rubbed lazy circles while we exchanged basic info. He was a grad student taking a vacation before starting a research project this summer at Clemson, only here for two more days. Perfect.
He stared at my mouth as I tipped my bottle up and swallowed the last of my beer, following the line of my exposed skin down my neck to the valley of my cleavage. I lowered the bottle, drawing out the motion. He made a noise in his throat, and his arm tightened around my back. Leaning over, he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin just below my ear. My eyes drifted closed. God, it felt good to be touched again.
“You want to come back to my place for awhile? My room has a great view of the ocean.” His voice was huskier than before.
I nodded as I slipped off the stool, not even caring that his line was lame. We both knew what was going to happen. Jason the bartender caught my eye as I headed out the door, sending a text to Rue as I walked. I dipped my head to let him know I was okay, and he winked back in acknowledgement.
Jared was staying at the resort, and the ride to the hotel was relatively short. He put his hand on my leg as he drove us back and with one finger traced a meandering path up and down my thigh, flirting with the hem of my skirt.
When we got to the elevator, we stood in the back and kissed softly, experimentally, behind an elderly couple who were oblivious to our actions. His hand cupped the back of my head and tangled in my hair. I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned into him, his lips moving over mine, tasting me with the slow slide of his tongue. We didn’t even pause when the couple got off two floors below our stop.
After fumbling with the key card in the slot, Jared pulled me inside and pressed me to the back of the door, not going any farther into the room. He shoved both hands into my hair, tilted my head to the side and started to devour my mouth, his tongue probing everywhere at once. The urgency caught me off guard, and I dropped my purse at my feet, but I tried to go with it, running my hands down his chest and slipping them under his shirt to grab his sides.
“Oh, Christ, you’re so hot,” he murmured, licking down my neck while his busy hands reached for the hem of my shirt and yanked it over my head. Apparently, we were in a hurry. His hands rushed up to capture my breasts, squeezing them together and pushing the tops up. He nuzzled into them, placing sloppy kisses as he went. It was like he was trying to touch every part he exposed. Neck, check. Cleavage, check. Pulling the lacy cups down, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, while pinching the other one to the point of pain. I winced and removed his hand, which he seemed to take as a sign, because that hand dropped to my thigh, before sliding back up to my panties. His fingers rubbed the lace he found there, his middle finger pressing into my folds. Okay, that felt good. Now we were getting somewhere.
I tipped my head back, pushing my chest farther into his face, and moved my hips in a slow circle. He pulled at my nipples with his lips, sucking them into hard points. With his other hand, he kneaded my ass. I tugged at his shirt, and he broke away from me long enough to rip it over his head and throw it into the dark room behind us.
Wrapping my arms around his chest, I scraped my nails down his back, and he shuddered against me. His insistent tongue pushed back into my mouth, stroking mine. When he pulled back a little, I fought the urge to wipe the extra moisture from my face. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom. Holding it between his teeth, he dropped his pants and boxers in one quick movement. I couldn’t get a good look at him before he pressed his hardness up against my panties and ground against me. My skirt was still around my waist.
After sheathing himself, he pulled my underwear to one side and bluntly pressed at my entrance. I guess foreplay was over. I was only kind of wet, and he grunted as he tried to work himself inside me, while I bit my lip at the uncomfortable pinching sensation. It had been awhile for me, but he didn’t feel very big, and he pushed himself in without too much difficulty.
Burying his face in my neck, he grabbed my hips and rocked into me, pushing me harder into the door. After a half a dozen thrusts, he stiffened, jerking inside of me.
What the fuck? Already?
Sighing with satisfaction, he kissed my shoulder and leaned against me, pinning me with his weight. His chest rose and fell against mine as he took slow deep breaths. After pressing his lips to my neck one last time, he slipped out of me and took a step back.
“Sadie, Christ, that was great. Thanks.” His hand reached out to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking me. “I’m gonna jump in the shower real quick. You good?”
Was I good? Um, no, dickwad, I was not good.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I lied, fixing my underwear and smoothing my skirt back down. “I think I’m just gonna go.”
He tipped his head and drew his eyebrows together. “You sure? We could go for round two in a little bit.”
“I, uh, have an early morning. Spa appointment.” I reached down for my shirt, and pulled it back over my head. I just needed to get out of there.
Details. Details were important. Rue had tried to teach me, but again, I failed to learn the lesson. Lame line, uncreative in the bedroom. Fumbling the room key, lack of finesse. Not making sure I finished, total douche.
He nodded his understanding and leaned down to kiss me. I turned at the last second, and he got the corner of my mouth. We hadn’t even made it past the damn doorway. Hadn’t even taken my clothes off. What. The. Hell.
Grabbing my purse from where it had landed by my feet, I mumbled something as I opened the door and fled, my face burning with annoyance and frustration. I stalked back to the elevator, which was mercifully already on my floor, and leaned against the stainless steel interior, feeling its coolness seep into my back and upper arms, raising goose bumps on my heated skin. I ground my teeth together as I waited impatiently for the elevator to lower.
Three floors down, the car stopped, and a man stepped on. Glancing up at him, I froze.
It was the surfer from earlier today.
I wanted to laugh, only it wasn’t funny. He looked wonderfully disheveled. His hair was mussed, his lips swollen and red, his shirt not quite straight. Dipping his head, he zipped up his jeans, the movement unhurried, then ran a hand through his messy brown hair. My cheeks flamed. It was obvious what he was coming from.
He glanced over at me, and recognition lit his face. One side of his mouth lifted in greeting as his eyes raked over me. “I take it your evening went as well as mine?”
“Best sex ever. You?” I smiled at him sweetly and said the words slowly, as if I was savoring them.
“It was better the first time.” He shrugged. “And you’re lying.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Am not.”
“Then why are you already sneaking out and not spooning?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. I didn’t really have a good answer to that. And truth be told, I loved to spoon.
He nudged my shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll have better luck next time.”
I snorted. Oh God, I snorted. What was wrong with me? And why was the elevator moving so damn slow? An eternity later, the elevator dinged, the door slid open, and I stepped out with as much dignity as I could muster, moving across the tiled lobby as fast as I could on my spiky heels. I called back over my shoulder to him, “Have a good night.”
“I already did. Twice. But thanks.” His answer floated to me as I walked away.
I scowled as I exited the resort and headed for the sidewalk that would take me back toward my cottage. Home was closer than my car, so I turned that way. I could get my car in the morning.
Two blocks from the hotel, a vehicle slowed down as it passed me. Alarm bells went off in my head as it rolled to a stop and parked just ahead of me, but on the opposite side of the street. I watched it nervously and came to a standstill, gripping my purse. It was late, and I was alone. The street lights kept it from being dark, and Reynolds Island was pretty safe, but my heart rate still picked up.
The truck door opened, and it was him again. Seriously? Three times in one day? He jogged over and stopped next to me.
He smelled like sex and sweat. I was still horny and pissed off from earlier, and his obvious satisfaction needled. “Now what?” I demanded.
“Look, it’s late, and my grandma would kill me if I just ignored you and let you walk home at night by yourself. Can I give you a ride?”
My mind flashed to an image of him on top of me, braced on his elbows, pumping into me with abandon, his hard flesh bared to my eyes. I bit my lip, my gaze falling to the front of his jeans. What was I thinking? I had just been naked—well, partially naked—with another man.
He cleared his throat and smirked. “That wasn’t what I was implying, but I can offer you that as well, if you’d like.”
I shook my head, embarrassed to be caught staring, and answered coolly. “Sloppy seconds isn’t really my style. And we don’t know each other. I don’t even know your name.”
“West Montgomery, at your service.” He grinned and formally offered his hand.
I shook his hand, feeling a spark straight down to my toes. God, I’d like to have him at my service. “Sadie Mullins,” I responded, the manners ingrained in me .
“Well, Sadie Mullins, if you’re done picturing me naked, we can go. Your place or mine, either works for me.”
I rolled my eyes at his audacity. I mean, yeah, I had been, but he couldn’t know that for sure. “Are you always this cocky?”
“Only around beautiful women who stare at my package. Or touch it. Or suck—”
“Okay, okay, I get the point.”
“Not yet, you don’t. But maybe one day. If you’re nice to me.”
I stared at him for a beat, crossing my arms in front of me. “Does all this bullshit actually work for you?”
“Usually.”
“It won’t work on me.”
“It will. Eventually. I tend to grow on a person.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
“Are you capable of driving me home without molesting me?”
“Me? You’re the one with the history of launching yourself at me. You’ve already mentally screwed me too, I can tell. You have the look.”
“The look?”
He leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “I have this effect on women. Not my fault.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, letting his fingers drift down my neck as he straightened up.
“Maybe I’m immune to your charm.”
Taking my hand and pulling me toward his truck, he looked at me, his eyes burning into mine. “We’ll see.”
We reached the side of his truck, a surprisingly beat up old Ford pickup. After climbing into the seat, I turned to shut the door only to find him leaning into the cab across me, buckling my seat belt. He patted my thigh. “Safety first.”
“What happened to keeping your hands to yourself?” I shot back.
“You know you liked it.” He grinned as he closed my door and jogged around to the driver side. “But to apologize, I’ll let you pick the radio station.”
He cranked the truck, and I leaned over to change the dial, adjusting it to my favorite local rock station. I glanced up to see if it was okay with him and caught him sneaking a peek down my shirt. “Hey!” I smacked his arm.
“Now who can’t keep their hands to themselves?”
Ignoring his comment, I told him which street and cottage number to head to, eight blocks over, knowing he would think I was just a tourist by its location. He nodded. “One of the Hawthorne’s houses, huh? You have good taste. Of course, since you’re into me, we already knew that.”
I sighed. “You’re impossible.”
“Would you prefer it if I were a possibility?”
Maybe. I didn’t answer, and we spent the rest of the ride in silence, me staring out the passenger window and him sending me questioning glances. I could feel the weight of them, but I stubbornly refused to turn and acknowledge him. When he pulled up outside my cottage, I started to reach for the door handle, but he grabbed my arm and stopped me.
“Wait.” He jumped out and ran around the truck again, opening my door for me. He just stood there and studied me, as if I were a puzzle he wanted to figure out. “You okay? The guy you were seeing earlier, he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No. He didn’t hurt me. I promise,” I assured him, when he continued to look at me with concern. He also didn’t get me off, and now I’m still horny, and you’re standing here next to me looking completely edible but completely off limits. I sighed and moved around him, heading up the steps to the front door. All the houses were built on stilts to keep the living premises higher above the water line. At the door, I paused and turned back. He was still standing by the truck, watching me, a look on his face I couldn’t decipher. “Thanks for the ride. That was sweet of you.”
He grunted. “Trust me, Sadie, I’m not sweet.” He climbed back into his truck and roared off down the street, the darkness taking him away from me.
I moved through the cottage, getting ready for bed on autopilot. Shoes kicked to the corner, clothes tossed over a chair, makeup removed. Sleep eluded me, and I lay in bed for a long time, tossing and turning. Unable to get the image of West out of my head when I closed my eyes. I pictured my hands running through his close-cropped brown hair, staring into his blue-gray eyes, his mouth descending to mine. I imagined the play of his muscles as he moved over me, settling between my thighs, his fingers tracing a path down my body to my core, wet and waiting for him. I fantasized about what happened next.
Groaning with frustration, I squeezed my eyes shut, banishing him from my mind. I knew what I needed before I would be able to sleep. Grabbing my phone, I queued up my S playlist. Ed Sheeran, Sia, Seal, Shaggy, Sean Paul. Then I lay back on my pillows and my hand drifted down under my panties. Sometimes, when you wanted something done right, you just had to do it yourself.