He looked at me from the corner of his eye. Those beautiful eyes. “You know you’re starting to sound like a reporter.”
“Well I am a reporter, smart ass.”
He laughed. The sound was deep and rich. “So let’s talk about that.”
“I took a job in Dallas at a medium-sized station for that market. I was a news coordinator. At least that’s what they called me. It was a total grunt job, but I took any shift they gave me. After a year of proving I could work hard they gave me a floating reporter spot.” I paused to inhale my drink. “Two years later, one of the weekend anchors got food poisoning right before the late show and they threw me behind the desk. I was completely unprepared. I had no idea what I was doing up there, but the producer loved it and offered me one of the anchor slots.” My eyes lifted to his. “So you are looking at the sunny face of Wake Up Big D.” I smiled brightly, playing up the cheesiness of the title. I felt as if I was listing off my resume.
“No shit,” he whispered.
“No shit.”
“And to think you ran the school paper.”
“Oh please tell me the Pelican Gazette is still running.”
He grinned. “Oh yeah. I think it’s online now, though.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course it is. Even on the island.” I sat back, feeling the boat rock slightly in the slip. It was soothing. “Blake, how do you do all this and the AFA? I don’t get it. Why come back here? Why try to blend in when you’re such a huge star?”
He looked at me and I felt a little quake inside.
“It’s home, Sierra.”
I felt the guilt take root under my skin. He loved this place so much. And I couldn’t figure it out. I never had been able to. My eyes drifted to the bar.
“You want to go up there?” He must have noticed me eyeing the dancing partiers.
“Do you want to go up there?” I countered. I remembered having to coax him onto the dance floor at prom.
“Come on.” He took the drink from my hand and lodged it in a drink holder. The next thing I knew he had hoisted me onto the pier, locked his fingers through mine, and was leading me to the music.
10
Blake
The song slowed as soon as Sierra and I were within five feet of the deck.
Her eyes sank into mine and she bit her bottom lip. Fuck. Why was she making this so difficult?
I tried not to look in her eyes. Before the Fin Notes launched into the chorus she was wrapped around my torso, her cheek resting against my chest. This was all more than what I bargained for. It had to be the strong drinks that had her nestled against me.
I let my hand glide down her back until it palmed the curve along the small of her back, fitting her snugly to my body. She felt like velvet under my rough hands. My chest tugged to take a deep breath. What in the hell was happening?
“This is nice,” Sierra murmured.
We swayed slowly, but it seemed as if the world had stopped.
I nodded, not wanting to confirm the words out loud. I reached for her hair and closed my eyes as my fingers coiled along the strands. This was dangerous.
She had always been able to do this to me. Make my cock ache. Make my thoughts turn to images of her under me. I had a strong visual of her lips wrapped around the base of my dick while I pumped in and out of her. And she always gave me what I wanted—she’d let me come deep in her throat. Her eyes misted with the intensity and the pleasure, but she never stopped until she had licked every drop from my head. She always made sure I was satisfied. And, how could I not be with those sweet lips sucking me? She had always been a good girl—a sweet girl—but the night she gave me her virginity it was as if she had given me the keys to an unopened box. A box that contained the most alluring intoxicating siren my cock and my heart had ever known.
The music faded from the stage. The song ended and I backed up too quickly, knocking Sierra off balance.
“Whoa.” I snaked an arm around her waist to steady her. “I told you those Long Island ice teas are no joke.”
She giggled and looked up at me. Those blue eyes stopped me in my tracks. She was drunk. She never could handle those drinks. But that wasn’t the only thing I saw in her eyes. Thirst. Hunger. Lust.
Fuck.