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With This Fling (Summersweet Island 5)

Page 42

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“I thought you came by the stand to grill me about having sex with Dean last night.”

“Oh, I did. And we’ll get to that later. Right now, we have more important things to discuss.”

“I’d much rather talk about having sex with Dean.”

Staying right where I am, next to a shelf filled with ice cream sprinkles in the back of the Dip and Twist, I shamefully crane my neck to try to hear more of what’s being said about me. I walked in through the back door a few minutes ago to bring Laura coffee. My feet came to an abrupt halt before rounding the corner when I heard my name, and I quickly reached my hand out to stop the screen door from slamming closed behind me.

I know I should have made my presence known, but I’d like to know where her fucking head is at as well. And also, sneaking up on Laura while she’s talking about me has quickly become one of my new favorite activities that brings me great joy.

Along with watching her smile, hearing her laugh, eating her pussy, and fucking her until she’s screaming my name.

I’ve been an anxious, miserable bastard since the minute we parted ways last night, after sneaking back out onto the deck of Dockside Eddy’s. We listened to the rest of the band’s set, ate dinner, and hung out with the family and wedding guests until the place closed. All the while pretending like I hadn’t just been inside her or know what she sounds like when she comes. We tiptoed around each other, both of us making polite conversation while we were constantly surrounded by other people. If I thought that was pure fucking torture, it was nothing compared to her giving me a quick, obligatory peck on the cheek in the parking lot at the end of the night, just like she did with everyone else, and then driving away from me in her golf cart.

I didn’t like it that we didn’t spend the night together after what happened in that office. I told her to come back to my hotel room with me after Bodhi stumbled out of the damn closet, and I shoved him out the door. For the first time, she didn’t do what I told her to do. She just flat out told me no. And the look in her eyes said I shouldn’t argue with her or push it, so I didn’t.

And I fucking hated it.

I wanted her next to me all night. I wanted to hear her breathing. I wanted the smell of her skin on my sheets. I wanted to know if she snores or talks in her sleep. I wanted to wake up and make her coffee just the way she likes it, have it ready when she opened her eyes to start her day. And fine. I wouldn’t have minded slipping between her thighs again… buried under the covers, half asleep, with the sun just starting to peek through the hotel curtains, taking my time, and lazily rocking into her warm body, until she had no other choice but to stay in my bed longer. Like maybe forever.

Fucking Summersweetened has seriously done some shit to me.

“I just want to know why you thought you preferred younger men all this time.”

Karen’s voice around the corner has my ears perking up again.

“Was it all the crazy stuff they took you to do? Like skydiving and shit?” she asks.

“Oh hell no!” Laura laughs, the sound hitting me right in the gut. “That was literally the worst date of my life, and I cried the entire time. You know that.”

“Okay, fine. Not the crazy, thrill-ride stuff. Was it the bar-hopping and going to clubs late at night so you could feel younger? That last guy didn’t even pick you up until ten o’clock.”

“I had to take two naps that day, and I still fell asleep in his car on the way to the club. That was embarrassing.”

I smother a laugh with the hand that isn’t holding Laura’s coffee, even though the jealous beast inside me is starting to stir. We’re both far from virgins. I know there were men before me, just like she knows there were women before her. But that was then, and this is now. And now, I just want to tell her there will be no more men after me, because I’m the last. But I’m scared as hell she won’t do what I tell her to do, just like last night.

“You need to be with someone you can slow down with and finally relax with. Someone who makes you comfortable and doesn’t push you out of airplanes or make you stay up past your bedtime. I vote for someone who has a Harley, who can rev his bike’s engine and yours at the same time.”

“Give it a rest, Karen.” Laura sighs. “It’s just a fling. Stop trying to make happily ever after happen.”

That fucking ache is back in my chest, and I’m really starting to wonder if it’s a medical problem I should seek help for. Knowing my doctor said my blood pressure was in pristine condition the last time I had a checkup, I push it out of my mind. I like that her friends and family have been calling her out. I like that they’re trying to make her see there’s something better out there. And that something better is me. If she wants to keep it light and pretend like this is just a fling, fine. I’ll let her have that if it makes her feel more comfortable. For now.

“At this point, I don’t even think you know why you dated younger men all this time,” Karen continues. “I feel like it was just something you thought you had to do because you’ve been doing it for so long. It was a habit. A habit I’m pretty sure Mr. Big Cock broke last night.”

A big grin takes over my face, and my worry subsides momentarily.

“Will you stop calling him that?” Laura pleads.

“I will when you give me more details. It’s your own fault for just magically reappearing from that hallway halfway through the band’s set, quickly walking by me, while muttering, ‘Jesus, God, his cock is huge and amazing,’ and then just going about your business the rest of the night, giving me absolutely nothing else. That’s just mean.”

“I came so hard I forgot my own name.”

Figuring there’s no time like right now to make myself known, I quickly walk around the corner like I just came through the door.

“Good morning, ladies.”

Laura jumps and lets out a squeak of surprise from where she was leaning her back against the front counter with her arms crossed, and Karen just gives me a huge smile from her perch, sitting on top of the deep freezer against the wall.

I don’t miss the way Laura fidgets where she stands, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and then playing with the hem of her Dip and Twist T-shirt as I make my way across the room to her. I like that I make her nervous. It gives me hope.



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