“Ready to hear this baby purr?” I say over the intercom with a smirk.
“Yes! Ready as I’ll ever be!” Paisley laughs. The helmet prevents me from seeing, but I can just imagine the bright grin on her face and her nose scrunching up in that beautiful kind of way.
A natural beauty. That’s what she is. An intelligent woman standing by my Harley in the middle of our side by side driveways as if it’s purgatory.
Alaric.
I swallow down the potent taste of guilt. How can something so wrong feel so right?
Fuck it. All I want right now is her.
“That’s what I like. A decisive woman.”
“I don’t think I have much of a choice.”
“You always got a choice with me, wildflower. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“You know I want to. If there’s a moment between us that I love the most, it would have to be this moment right here with you. As nervous as I am, there’s this thrill inside me. It’s anticipation of what happens next, and I wouldn’t change this feeling for the world. Especially when it means I’m stepping into your world.”
My eyes darken. Wow.
Air crackles between us. I feel my heartbeat at the base of my throat, beating so damn fast, and I don’t even know how I’m still breathing.
“I’m glad we’re doing this too.”
“Me too, Saint. More than you know.”
Oh, baby, I know.
I start the Harley, loving its purr, and fold down the foot pegs on both sides. “Ready to roll?”
“Yes! Where are we heading again? A beach?”
“Yes, a beach, but that’s all I’m going to tell you for now.” I smile. “All right, hop on!”
Paisley squeals as she climbs on the left side peg and carefully settles into the passenger seat behind me. “I can’t believe this!”
Paisley’s arms quickly wrap around my chest, tight, and I feel her firm breasts press up against my back. I stand the bike upright, straighten up, and grin while folding the kickstand back. Her warmth does something to me beyond describing, but it’s eclectic, euphoric, such a contagious feeling of pure joy, that much I know.
Hold on to me, darlin’.
I rev the engine and we’re off with her contagious laughter brightening my soul. It has me chuckling too as we speed down our street, Portola Way, out of Curtis Park, and fly past sand-colored city buildings and tall palm trees in Downtown Sacramento. The afternoon reddish-light blue sky is an incredible masterpiece, so mesmerizing as we cross onto Highway 80, over the Sacramento River into West Sacramento and farther down. I want the location of where we’re heading today for a little wanderlust to be a surprise to her, even though we’ve already been there before together, but this time will be different.
“This is sensational!” Paisley gasps. “Now I know why you love it so much. It feels like we’re gliding! You should feel my heart right now!”
“Pretty sure mine feels the same!”
“You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“Anything for you, wildflower,” I murmur as I slow at the set of red lights. I move my leather-covered left hand back and playfully slap her smooth bare thigh before slowly caressing the skin. “Anything.”
Paisley softly moans through the intercom. “Turns out the Devil of Sacramento does have a heart after all… and he’s no devil either.”
I smirk. “You rebranded me for the better, huh?”
“Mmhmmm, sure did.” I can hear the smirk in her voice. “Damaged good. That’s what we are.”
“I like that.” I laugh, returning my hand to the handlebar as the lights turn green and I take off. Revving my engine, I speed down the street with the therapeutic rumbles seeping deep into my bones, and her hold gets even firmer.
“You know… you should have worn jeans, not shorts.”
“Why do you say that?” Paisley teases, and I can hear the sexual undertone in her voice from a mile away. “Because you’re getting distracted?”
Mmhmmm.
“You want the honest truth?”
“Nothing but it.”
“I said it because I can’t get your damn legs out of my mind. Also,” I add, “because jeans are better protection, you know, just in case…”
“Don’t need protection. You promised you’ll take care of me, remember?”
That makes me chuckle because I can hear the smirk in her voice. “True. I love the way you think.”
“I love the way you ride Harleys.”
“Sure, Miss University of Washington. Give yourself a few years. You’ll be flying past me in a hot pink Ferrari with a successful landscape architectural company, published poetry books, and Forbes articles under your belt. You’ll probably flip me off and continue driving.”
Paisley laughs. “As if I would ever do that, Mr. Stanford. I’ll never forget about you.”
A cloud dampens over me at the thought of her leaving in a couple of months’ time.
How the fuck am I going to go on every day not seeing her?
“Four years is a long time, Pais. With you moving to Seattle, I may never see you again after this summer. You know that, right?”
“I know,” she whispers after a little while. “That’s why we’re doing this, learning everything about each other before the summer ends. I want to understand the world behind your ocean eyes.”
My heart clenches.
“Nobody has ever said that to me before.”
“They have now.” Paisley squeezes her arms around me tighter, but it isn’t a hold of wanting to be securer behind me. It’s one of utter warmth and appreciation and affection. “I don’t know what will happen during these next four years while I’m at college, but what I do know is that I’ve never met somebody like you before and I don’t think I ever will again.”
I gulp down. “You will.”
“I won’t, and I’m almost glad because nobody compares to you. Nobody.”
My heart races in reckless beats. I’ve never felt this goddamn complete.
“Ditto, wildflower,” I whisper into the warm summer breeze and smile.
I feel the solidness of her helmet against my shoulder and quickly glance behind to see Paisley snuggling into me. I laugh because it’s easier than ripping off our helmets and pressing my lips to hers at seventy miles per hour. No matter how tempting the feeling is.
I turn back to the road and my cold stone grief-stricken heart that I’ve been carrying around for so long begins to soften. It started long before today, months ago when we embraced for the very first time. But every day I see Paisley, every second I spend with her, I feel the coldness slowly warming and melting away. Today it’s happening at double the speed.
It’s my first time riding my Harley with a woman, and I never imagined it could feel this good having Paisley hold on to me. I don’t want her to let go. I don’t know what this all means for us, but I do know one thing: after today the dynamics between us will be forever changed.
’Cause Paisley’s right… There’s no other place I’d rather be than right here with her too. I mean that from the bottom of my melting heart.
Nowhere else I’d rather be.
Less than two hours later, the biggest grin works up Paisley’s lips as I park my Harley in the driveway of my Stinson Beach summer house. It’s a beach house I bought almost fifteen years ago when I was living in Santa Rosa. Even though I sold my house in Santa Rosa when I moved to Sacramento, I kept this beach house. It’s the place I go to whenever I want to escape Sac.
Although I love The City of Trees with all my heart, there’s something about having Stinson Beach as my little sanctuary. Plus, it’s so convenient seeing as Santa Rosa is such a short distance away. I usually spend most of August in Marin County on the west coast of California on vacation every year. Stinson Beach in Marin County. It’s my favorite place. Less than two hours away from Sacramento by motorbike. The peaceful North Pacific Ocean breeze, beautiful crashing waves, the taste of freedom. This is the type of place one goes to escape the reality of the world and create moments that become memories.
Paisley gasps, glancing around my Hampton-style two-story beach house in complete astonishment the second we step inside. “I would have never pegged you for having a beach house. Oh my gosh. You just keep on surprising me, Saint Lisconti.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
Paisley glances over her shoulder at me and winks. “Definitely a good thing.”
I smirk. “Oh, you’re so confident about it, aren’t you?”
“Mhmmm.” The sexiest scarlet blush suffuses her cheeks. “You make me this bold and confident.”
Grinning, I pull her into a half-hug and brush my lips against her ear. “First you text me in the middle of the night when the electricity’s out, then you ride my Harley with me. What’s next?”
“Showing me a sunflower field.”
“Is that the dream?”
“That’s the dream.”
“I think that’ll be a cool fucking adventure,” I murmur. “I also think you’ve always had that little boldness in you.”
Paisley flutters her lashes up at me and bites her lip. “Well, you help bring it out.”
“That’s why I call you wildflower,” I whisper with a wink.
Paisley playfully shoves me away from her and I can’t stop laughing.
She practically begs me for a tour of the house, and I happily comply. Last summer I completely upgraded and renovated my beach house, giving it upscaled rustic meets sophisticated casual beach vibes. Paneled walls. White hardwood floors. Three large bedrooms each with their own bathroom and walk-in closet. Every room of the house is luxuriously resort-like, with massive picture windows outlooking the scenic ocean views. Outlooking those mesmerizing turquoise waves at night with the moonlight and winking stars while sitting on the patio with the firepit burning or walking along the wooden private pier is beyond stunning.
Paisley adores every room and can’t stop telling me how she can’t believe I haven’t talked about this house before. It’s a part of showing her beyond a simple glimpse of myself and instead showing her all of me. She’s the first woman I’ve had in this house in thirteen years.
A day trip to Stinson Beach to soak up the sun is exactly what Paisley needs after all the shit she’s been through. Besides, it’s also a perfect place for her to relax after her graduating and celebrating this next chapter of her life.
It makes me so happy that she loves the idea too.
Paisley can’t stop grinning the entire house tour. Once we’re back in the kitchen, she takes off her leather jacket and I tell her she can just leave it on the living room couch. Then I excuse myself and walk upstairs to my primary bedroom to change out of my clothes and into a white linen button-down and black swim trunks since we want to walk up to the beach. Since Paisley only came with her beach duffle bag and apparently already came with bikinis underneath her clothes, she doesn’t need to change.
When I’m dressed, I step out of the bedroom and jog downstairs only to find Paisley looking out the white French doors that lead to the outdoor patio and gate to the private access to the large stretch of beach, simply staring out in awe at the scenic views above the gate.
It takes everything within me not to wrap my arms around her from behind and glance out with her. Instead, we share a warm smile as she glances around, her eyes hungrily falling to what I’m wearing, yet she doesn’t say a word. My gaze darkens and I make no effort to hide the way my eyes fall upon her body now that her jacket’s off.
So freaking beautiful.
I don’t know how on God’s earth I thought I could survive a beach day with her with the way we’re looking at each other. Guess I’m about to find out.
“Ready to go?”
Paisley nods, slipping the strap of her small duffle bag higher up her shoulder. I must surprise her when I take the duffle from her because she says, “Oh, you don’t need to carry it.”
“You said you want to know the real me. The real me doesn’t let women hold their bags.”
Paisley smiles warmly. “Aww, thank you!”
“Anything for you, wildflower.”
“You’re a sweetheart, Saint.”
“You’ll say how much of an asshole I am in three seconds.”
She laughs.
“It’s about a ten-minute walk to Stinson Beach. Let’s do it!”
“Looking forward to it.”
After putting her duffle bag in the bigger beach bag I’m holding that has two towels, a baseball cap and my phone, wallet, and house keys, we’re off to the beach. We’ve been to Stinson Beach before months ago, but today will be different… Her father isn’t here.
It’ll be just us.
Only us.
As if it’s our little secret… because it is.
I almost die right here on the sandy beach when we find a vacant spot on the sand and while I roll out our towels, Paisley begins stripping down. She kicks off her shoes and shimmies out of her clothes and when I see what’s underneath… Fuck.
A stunning red triangle tie-up bikini top and matching thong-style bikini bottoms. Red. God, I fucking love red on her. Dio. Her almost naked body is so smooth and goddamn beautiful. I’m barely surviving it. Barely.
Paisley’s eyes are on me as I peel my T-shirt from my back collar. I rake a hand through my dark hair first before slipping on my baseball cap, backward, some hair peeking out on the sides and bottom. Flicking my gaze to the ocean, I subtly adjust my hard cock through my dark swim trunks and take a seat beside Paisley, enjoying the sunny skies and refreshing ocean breeze… while getting harder and harder by the fucking second until it’s unbearable.
We watch the clear waves slowly crash to shore and it’s so peaceful, exactly what I need.
“I can’t believe how beautiful it is here.” Paisley grins beside me on the warm sand. “It’s so mesmerizing. No wonder it’s your favorite place.”
I smile. “Tell me your favorite place.”
“It’s not necessarily a place, but I would have to say sunflower fields in general. However, to be honest, this beach is coming in close second. I love it!”
Hearing her admit she loves Stinson Beach as much as I do… it does something to me.
Paisley turns to me, intrigue infusing her beautiful, brown-eyed gaze. That same gaze that flickers down to my tattooed sleeve on my left arm, and she gestures toward it. “Every ink of tattoo tells a story, hmm?”
I smile. “Just like every poetic stanza tells a story.”
“I like that.”
“What’s our story, wildflower?”
Paisley grins. “Well, it’s simple. Girl meets boy. Girl goes from despising him to understanding that their opposites create beauty. Girl runs away with boy to West California and dot, dot dot…”
“What happens next?”
“Don’t know.” She smirks. “It’s unwritten.”
I chuckle. “The classic cliffhangers, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Paisley nods, tracing her finger along the ink on my arm, her touch forming sparks along my skin. “They always happen around now. Unless you’re the writer, you can make anything happen.” Her eyes lift to mine and passion floods them as her smile transforms into a beautiful grin. “Can you tell me a little bit about your tattoos?”
My heart clenches.
My tattoos. Nobody has ever wanted to know that before.
For the next few minutes, I explain to her the meaning behind every black and white tattoo on my full sleeve. Tattoos like the black and white Holy Madonna’s face on my shoulder blade for my nonna, representing faith, believing, and my adoration for her.
The deck of cards with the facing card being the ace of hearts with a tinge of red inside the heart for my mom, representing all my love for her and always staying true to myself.
For my dad, alongside my inner bicep I have ‘Here’s to looking at you, kid’ in cursive as a nod toward my father and his favorite film, which is also mine, Casablanca. I also have a shaded tattoo of Humphry Bogart’s face on my forearm, a tipped hat covering some of his face, a cigar in his mouth with the smoke turning into a dove.
I also have a little stuffed giraffe toy to remember somebody special by. That’s all I have in me to say to Paisley about that one. All kinds of other tattoos like roman numerals, words in both Italian and English, an eagle, and other objects fill the spaces between the tattoos that hold the most significance to my heart, creating an epic full sleeve tattoo. Then, of course I also have the large, shaded cross on my back, along my spine, with thorns wrapped around it and angel wings behind it, as well as the small cursive name, Lea, written on my lower back.
All my tattoos have a purpose, a significance, and a meaning that touches me deeply. It’s as if it’s a collection of art, a collection of everywhere I’ve been and everything that I am. Paisley’s in awe when we finish, stating that she loves every one and that means a lot to me.
Something I’ve been meaning to tell Paisley for a couple of days now crosses my mind. “Remember that day last year where you were planting flowers on the sidewalk, and you asked me what to do when the only person you truly have leaves you? Remember how I said I’ll get back to you?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I think I have the answer now. I think it’s to have faith.”
“I don’t know how to have faith.”
“By giving in to every last desire, even if it’s wrong.”
“I like the sound of that. I’ll remember that, thank you. I can’t believe you remembered it!”
“I remember everything.”
Laughter escapes Paisley. “Obviously.”
I chuckle. An abundance of warmth rushes across my body. I simply watch her beautiful profile in awe, loving how her eyes observe the busy beach for a second longer before her long lashes flutter closed. Paisley tips her head back to take in the glorious warm sun, her beautiful grin never falling.
God. Paisley Reign just continues to take my breath away. Again and again and again. I can’t believe how lucky I am to be here with such beauty.
“Let’s play nine questions!”
My brows knit in amusement. “Isn’t it twenty-one questions?”
Paisley laughs. “Yeah, but we should do a rapid-fire round instead.”
“That’s good with me. You start!”
She nods without hesitation. “Films say a lot about who we are as people. Why is Casablanca your favorite film?”
“Because sometimes it’s not always about getting the girl in the end. Sometimes it’s just about spending a brief period of time with the greatest thing that ever happened to you. Even if it’s an instant in your life. Even if it’s bittersweet.”
“That’s such a beautiful way to look at it!”
I gulp down. “What’s your favorite film and why?”
“A Patch of Blue. It’s way before my time, but I love the movie because it shows there’s more to life than what we see. The emotions that love evokes are a powerful sensation, a powerful thing that can turn gray skies into patches of vivid blue.”
Paisley’s words touch my soul.
“I’ve definitely watched my fair share of that movie too. It’s so powerful, isn’t it?”
“It truly is. What motivated you to start boxing?”
Swallowing thickly, I glance toward the ocean waves for a moment. “Escapism. What are you most passionate about?”
“One day becoming a mom. Having my own family to cherish. How about you?”
“I love that. You’ll be an amazing mom one day.” I smile. “What am I most passionate about? Hmm, I don’t know, I think at this stage in my life it’s just to continue making my mom and Nonna proud. My late father too, because he’s still watching.”
“That’s so warming and true. Your dad is still watching down. I feel it.”
I nod. “So is your nana, Pais. I feel it too.”
Her eyes shut as she takes in a breath and nods. “Tell me something I don’t know about your life.”
“Well, I’m left-handed, but that’s not necessarily life-changing, so I’ll answer your question by admitting I used to be in a cover band.” I laugh when her eyes widen to something between pure shock and awe. “And no, I’m not joking. I actually was… for like two years. My cousin, Enrico, is four years younger than me. His mother and mine are sisters. Enrico’s this piano mastermind and while it’s just a hobby of his, I swear that guy could be the next Beethoven. When he was ten and I was fourteen, we started this cover band just for the fun of it. We alternated between my parents’ garage and his. Naturally, Enrico was on the piano, and I was on the guitar, and we shared the singing. We made it a hobby for four years, practicing and writing songs as if we were going to make it to the Staples Center one day with the lamest shit. We got better in time, but when I headed to college it kind of fizzled out, you know…”
Paisley smiles. “Whoa, that’s amazing. I didn’t know you play guitar and sing a little. You’re a man of many talents! Do you still have a jam session with your cousin sometimes?”
“I wish. Enrico moved to Seattle when he was sixteen but now resides in New York. I don’t see him as much as I used to, but we keep in touch a lot and when we do meet up, it’s as if nothing’s changed.
“Care to sing me a line of something you and Enrico wrote?”
I tip my head back in laughter, loving how her smile transforms into a grin too. “Is that one of your questions?”
“Sure is.”
“All right, here it goes. This is Betty and would have been our EP… imagining me singing this at fourteen years old.” Smirking, I clear my throat and crack my neck before pretending to strum an invisible guitar. I give her those dramatically intense eyes all great love songs talk about, like this is an audition at America’s Got Talent and just go for it. “Okay, get ready for this… Betty, I think about you all the time. I can’t get you out of my mind. It’s like you look at me and I get hypnotized… like when you kissed me on the Fourth of July. Now I missed the school bus and you’re going out with Chad. But I can do your math homework and that’s pretty rad. So you left him and now you’re going out with me. Yet you’re playing this game of chance, but oh, Betty, all I wanna do is dance… oh, oh, yeahhh.”
Paisley can’t stop laughing and I can’t help but rumble in chuckles too. I’ve never in my life sung that chickenshit song out loud since Enrico and I were kids. It feels so good just letting loose and laughing with her so warmly.
Feels so good that I can be myself.
Feels so good I’m here with her.
“Oh my gosh!” Paisley wipes away happy tears, grinning, and she can’t even look at me for a straight second before we burst back into laughter. “Excuse me for laughing, but I didn’t expect that! That’s just too good. Betty seems like she was a pretty special girl.”
“I highly doubt it. Enrico and I didn’t have girlfriends, so we wrote that song to feel better about ourselves. We got the name Betty from the Archie comics because she was hot, but agreed that if we ever produced the song with a record label and it went viral to the point where an exclusive documentary was made, we would say the song was inspired by this girl called Betty who played us both and this was our rebellious heartbreak song. Mike-drop moment.”
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard in my life! I’m sure you and Enrico would have lived it up.”
“I’m sure we would have too. I mean, between Betty, The Heart Is a Fragile Planet, Italian Brown-Eyed Girl and When I Take a Plane To Switzerland, Don’t Take One There Too, we would have been stars. Timberlake? Pfft, who knows him. We would have ruled the world,” I joke with a grin before breaking out to the rhythm of the latter of the song and pretend to play the piano. “Da-ra, dun dun dun, da, dun dun, da, da-ra, dun dun dun, da, da-rah… One, two, one, two, three… When I take a plane to Switzerland, don’t take one there too. You had your chance to get to me, now you need an ‘I owe you’, ’cause you owe me… oh, yes, you do… you owe me… oh, yes, you do.”
Paisley slaps a hand over her mouth to soften the laughter, but a few people at the beach sneak glances our way anyway, but I don’t give a fuck. As long as I see my girl happy, that’s all that matters.
My girl…
“My God, Saint. I think I need an album! I didn’t know you were that good!”
“Good? Don’t be so kind, they were shit songs written by two teenage cousins in the late nineties.”
“Okay, but you have a really beautiful voice, so it compensates for it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wink. “Now, less about me embarrassing the hell out of myself and more about you. Biggest dream?”
“The small dream is to own an original 1940s Olivetti typewriter. I just love the idea of typing my poetry down on it. The biggest dream is to work at Seattle’s Notti Design firm as a landscape architect after I graduate from college. It’s a goal I’ve had for a long while. Just the thought of working for such a prestigious company and doing what I love brings me so much happiness. I know it’s complex work, but I’m ready for the challenge.”
“How did I know you would say that? That’s incredible, Paisley, I really think you’ll love it too. Come to think of it, my cousin, Enrico, is good friends with the owner of Notti Designs, Giulio Giannotti.”
Paisley’s jaw practically drops. “You mean you have connections to Giulio Giannotti, the owner of Notti Designs?”
“Mhmm. Met Giulio a couple of times too through Enrico at some birthdays and business parties. He’s a real nice guy. A dedicated businessman but a diehard family guy too. Tailored suits. Italian leather shoes. Three cute kids. Beautiful wife. The two of them seem like something out of a Golden Age of Hollywood film. A modern-day Bogart and Bacall, except with brunette hair. Perhaps I could talk to him about introducing you and Giulio so you could have a deeper insight into what it would be like to work there.”
“That would be incredible! I know you have a busy schedule, so if you don’t really want to I completely understa—”
“Don’t even think about it. Of course I want to. Enrico’s just a phone call away and I know how special this is to you, wildflower.”
Paisley’s eyes get a little teary. “That’s so sweet, thank you so much!”
“No need to thank me.” I smile. “You’re there for me, I’m there for you.”
She nods before gasping. “Oh, gosh! I can’t believe I forgot the other big dream I have. Llamas.”
Llamas?
“Hold up.” My eyes widen. “Did you just say llamas, or have I just become hard of hearing?”
Mid-laugh, Paisley runs a hand through her damp beach waves. “Yes, I did say llamas. They’re my favorite animal!”
“Well, that’s definitely not what I was expecting. Now I’m curious, why llamas?”
“Is that even a question? They’re so cute and such intelligent animals too! I guess it’s always been a dream to someday own one.”
“Are they even legal to have as pets here in California?”
“Yeah, some ungulate species are. Believe it or not, even though llamas are exotic, they’re domesticated. They’re like three to five grand or something like that, let’s say four.”
“Ohhh.” I smirk, crossing my arms over my bare chest, my toned biceps tensing. “So just to set the record straight, you’d allow a llama to eat your flowers because they’re cute, but lost your shit that one time I accidentally stepped on your lilies three years ago? Nice. Nice. I see how it is. Seems like I totally missed that ‘cute’ requirement.”
Paisley can’t stop giggling. “My cheeks ache from laughing so hard! Somebody’s jealous, huh?”
“Yeah,” I playfully huff. “Never thought I’d be jealous of a freaking llama.”
“I’ll make it up to you, Mr. Lisconti.”
“Hmm, yeah,” I murmur with a smile. “You better.”
I don’t want this day to end…
Not when we’re closer than we’ve ever been.
Not now as Paisley glances at me, her head still tipped back, with such happiness as she reties her silky long dark hair in a high ponytail and it softly blows with the ocean breeze.
Not when she pulls out a small bottle of tanning oil from her duffle bag and applies it to her front before asking me to lather her back in the shimmery tanning oil. I agree without hesitation.
“Any hidden talents I don’t know about?” Paisley asks as I squeeze the oil into the palm of my hand.
I try to think for a minute. “Hmmm, no. Oh, wait. I can knot a cherry stem using my tongue. Don’t know if that’s classified as a talent, though.”
“Sure it is! I’m pretty sure they even have a whole Guinness World Record for that.” She pauses for a moment before her eyes darken, and she sensually bites her lower lip. “That’s kind of hot, Saint.”
I’ll show you hot, baby.
I feel the damn purr of her voice right on the tip of my cock. Dear God.
It doesn’t help that she’s practically naked in front of me. Our stare extends until she smirks and takes her eyes off me. Paisley lies down on her taut stomach and ample breasts, which her bikini barely covers, and it feels so good roaming my oil-laced hands over the backs of her toned arms and legs. I continue to run my hands over her beautiful body, craving running my tongue over her every curve.
The next words just slip out of my mouth. “Next question. Who was your first kiss?”
Paisley’s quiet for a split moment. “I… I kind of haven’t done anything intimate with anybody else before… including kissing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Not even—”
“Nope. Nothing at all.” Paisley sighs. “It’s sad, I know.”
“It’s not sad, it’s perfectly okay. It’s better to wait than to regret it, yeah?”
“Yeah, I know, it’s just that… Can I admit something?”
“Of course.”
Paisley hums, a sultry smirk on her lips as she turns her head to me, and her hooded eyes meet mine. “Sometimes… sometimes I just really crave to be touched… to have an orgasm that doesn’t include my vibrator. I just crave that release, to let go of all that built-up tension.”
Holy fuck.
My hard cock throbs in my swim trunks at her words. God.
That definitely isn’t what I need to hear as I spread the tanning oil over her back, underneath the tiny tie-up string holding her bikini together and lower down to her gorgeous round ass. I need to distract myself, but I can’t. My mind goes wild at how her ass is practically bare because while her bikini bottoms cover her front, the back is exposed aside from a thin strip of fabric that disappears between her cheeks.
So hot.
“Jesus Christ, Paisley,” I groan, all worked up. “You have a vibrator?”
The smirk is still on her lips as she turns back to the towel. “Mhmmm.”
“Fuck, that’s hot,” I rasp, all breathy. “Dio, you can be such a bad girl when you want to be, Paisley. So fucking bad.”
A visual of Paisley pleasuring herself has me losing my mind, so much so my breaths deepen as arousal takes over me. I’ve never had a need to satisfy a woman so badly. Never like I do with Paisley right now. Another vision crosses my mind of her lying on my Harley Davidson and me fucking her so hard on it until her throat aches from moaning out my name so goddamn loud.
“Want to know something else?” Paisley murmurs. “Something I probably wouldn’t have the courage to say if you weren’t touching my body like you are right now…?”
I smooth over her ass, my breath completely lost while I slowly massage in the oil. The second I can hear my frantic heartbeats over the crashing waves, I know I’m in trouble. Lust turns to reckless desperation because my fingers are inches from her pussy through the bikini bottoms, yet I can feel its heat.
I want her so fucking badly.
“Yes.”
“It’s pretty dirty,” Paisley teases.
Dio.
I’m well aware of how sexual this game has turned, but I have no intentions of stopping. Every part of me aches for her. Aches for us to rush back to my beach house so I can bury my tongue into her heat and give her that orgasm she so desperately craves.
“Tell me, wildflower.” My hands linger on her ass for an extended moment. “Tell me all of your dirty secrets.”
Crossing her arms in front of her over the towel, Paisley glances over her left shoulder at me, eyes dripping with dark desire. I part my lips, feeling the exact same, but I need to snap out of this because we’re in public with tons of beachgoers.
Ah, what am I talking about? Fuck the public.
I know how detrimental whatever she’s about to say is for us. It could change everything. Not that it’s not already changed. But this is a bold step for her, so fucking bold and confident, and all I want to do is reward her with orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.
“Okay,” Paisley murmurs, gazing between my eyes. “Every time I make myself come, I think of you.”
Oh God.
I said it once and I’ll say it again. This woman is going to be the death of me.
The sexual tension between Paisley and me does anything but simmer when I spank her ass to signal that I’ve finished with massaging in the tanning lotion. Paisley sits back up beside me and thanks me with a naughty smile.
I can’t do anything but smirk back. More than welcome, babydoll.
Seeing Paisley like this… her olive skin all oiled up and glistering under the glowing sunshine, her sultry complexion so beautifully tempting, her hard nipples saluting me through the thin fabric of her bikini… it’s almost too much for me to handle.
Almost.
It has me wishing there was nobody else on this beach so we can put an end to this erotic madness. My cock is so damn hard, throbbing against the confines of my swim trunks at how Paisley’s looking at me with eyes that beg me to take her right here. So much need is in them, so much forbidden desperation I’m eager to taste with my tongue.
I breathe in her sweet vanilla jasmine scent with a hint of the beach, and it drives me absolutely crazy. This woman understands me on such a deep level. It’s as if we’re connected by fate, connected by destiny. My eyes flicker to her plump lips and dear God… all I want to do is kiss her like I mean it.
“Last question…” Paisley whispers. “What are you currently thinking?”
“Things I know I shouldn’t.”
“Tell me.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know, Pais.”
“I do.”
I rest my forehead against hers, my free hand rising to cup her jaw. “You’ve made me feel this kind of way ever since you rushed into my arms on your eighteenth. Every time I see you now, it amplifies, but seeing you today with this stunning bikini on… Fuck. You know how to drive a man wild. You know how to make his heart race.”
“Not any man… you.”
“Me,” I murmur against her lips, loving the way it sounds. “I know you wore it on purpose. To taunt me. To tease me. To make me go out of my fucking mind, and guess what?”
Paisley grins, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me. “What?”
“It’s fucking working. But you could be wearing anything, and I still wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about you. Even when I know I shouldn’t, I can’t stop, Paisley.”
“Then don’t.”
“I shouldn’t feel this way about you. You shouldn’t feel this way about me.”
“I can’t help it, Saint,” she breathes. “You once told me to never hide the way I feel and I… I really care about you. I’ve never felt like this before.”
“I care about you too. Much more than I should. You know that.”
Paisley grins, slowly slipping the baseball cap off me, and rests it on the sand behind us. A wild breath escapes my throat when her fingers thread through my tousled hair. I moan in satisfaction. It feels so good.
Everything about Paisley so beautifully entices me—everything. The way her breaths synchronize with mine. The fact that she’s so open about what she wants. The loud thumps I imagine in her chest and how mine madly beat for her too.
“You’re going to get me in so much trouble, Paisley Reign.” My warm lips trail against her left cheek and tenderly kiss her warm skin. “So. Much. Trouble,” I whisper in staccato before moving back up so we’re face-to-face. The pure sight of her has me smiling in awe. “Dio mio. Look how beautiful you are, wildflower.”
“Saint,” she murmurs. “Saint, I need you.”
“Tell me where.”
“On my lips.”
“No, babydoll.”
She bites her lip. “Why not?”
Why not?
Despite how badly I want to kiss Paisley, there’s so much logic behind it that tells me I shouldn’t. So many barriers in the way. Our age gap. The forbidden nature that comes with her being the daughter of my good friend. Alaric.
“I’m too old for you. An eighteen-year difference. That’s a lot, Paisley.”
“Age is only a number when it comes to what truly matters. Plus, it’s hot. Really hot.”
“Alaric would kill us.”
“My father doesn’t need to know. It can be our secret. Between us only.”
Tempting.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I say, but I don’t know who the hell I’m trying to convince, her or myself. I clench my jaw twice before I forget about all else and ease into a slow, sexy smile. “I kiss you and I won’t be able to stop.”
“That’s exactly what I want,” Paisley admits in desperation, her eyes achingly searching mine. “Whatever happens can stay between us. Nobody else needs to know. I just need you. Badly. More than I’ve ever needed anything else.”
I’m freaking losing my mind. Seeing the way we’re both so worked up and flustered. Restraint never burned this deep. I can’t think of anybody else but the two of us. Right now, I don’t care that she’s forbidden. I don’t care that she’s my best friend’s daughter. I want her more than I’ve wanted any other woman in my life.
God, I need her too.
“You intrigue me so much, Paisley. You’re an angel I want to unravel, and that’s not a good thing for a man like me. I’ll get addicted to heaven when I don’t deserve it.”
“You deserve it, Saint. You deserve it more than you know.”
The air crackles between us, thickening, and even though we’re at the beach, all I see is her. I swear to God I’m about to die from the way I’m feeling toward Paisley.
I never stood a chance against the angel that she is.
Paisley’s eyes drop down to my swim trunks and pool in hunger as she sexily bites her bottom lip. I know without a doubt exactly what she’s looking at. My raging erection confined inside my trunks that’s pulsing even more intensely at the way she’s looking at me.
“No white swim trunks today?” she teases.
I smirk, remembering the exact moment I caught her staring at my cock through the fabric that day at this exact beach a few weeks ago. “Nope. I learned my lesson there. Don’t go around in white swim trunks when you have your best friend’s daughter gawking at you and telling you she can’t stop thinking about you after she was writing a poetry piece about you.”
Paisley laughs. “I didn’t gawk!”
“This isn’t two truths and a lie, baby. You and I both know you’re guilty as charged.”
“Okay, you’re right. I was checking you out. I give you full permission to gawk at me all you like today, so we’ll be even. Unless…” She glides her tongue over her bottom lip and my eyes instantly drop there, my cock feeling the stroke instead. God, how I’d love that tongue circling around me. “Unless… you plan to do a lot more than gawking, to which I would say…”
“To which you would say what?” I breathe.
“Guess.”
Smoldering, my heart beats wildly at her words and the scorching heated stare we share only makes me harder. Jesus Christ. I’m so goddamn aroused.
“Tell me,” I say. It comes out all sexy and breathy. “Come on, baby.”
“Guess, Saint.”
“Tell me, babydoll,” I growl this time, my sexual frustration hitting its peak as I cup her cheek and draw her closer to me. The pad of my thumb brushes over her soft pink lips. “Tell me,” I repeat, my voice a desperate murmur, inches from her lips. “I want to hear it from your lips. What would you say if I told you I wanted to do more than gawk? Tell me what you truly desire, wildflower. I want to hear the exact moment my good girl turns bad. Do you want it, babydoll? Don’t you want to be bad for me?”
Her breathing quickens and I don’t miss the way she not so subtly squeezes her thighs together with a grin. Smirking, I trail my lips up Paisley’s cheekbones, my hot breath against her skin, and her sweet jasmine scent consumes me whole.
Yes, I know you feel it too, baby.
My lips roughly meet her ear as I sexily whisper, “Do you want to be my bad girl, babydoll?
“Yes, yes, I do.” Paisley seductively whispers with a straggled moan. “I want to be bad for you, Saint.”
“Dimmelo di nuovo. Dimmi che lo vuoi anche tu.”
Tell me it again. Tell me that you want it too.
“Oh God.”
I’ve never seen Paisley’s honey browns so dark in desire. I cup her face so tenderly with both hands. There’s a fraction of a gap between our lips and a moan escapes my throat when she murmurs my name so erotically sweet. Her hands trail down my bare abs and we share the kind of grin lovers do.
Dear God, forgive me because I’m about to fucking sin.
Forgive me, Alaric, too.
Forgive. Me.
“What would you say if I told you gawking isn’t enough?” I glance between Paisley’s eyes. “What if I told you all I want to do right now is kiss you until you don’t know whose air you’re breathing? What if I told you that you can be my bad girl for the entire summer?”
“I would say, ‘what took you so long’?”
“You’re such a bad girl, Paisley Reign,” I say, completely losing it. “My bad girl.”
“Yes. Yours,” she whispers, slowly closing her eyes. “Always yours.”
Mine.
Inhaling a heavy breath, I shut my eyes.
“Fuck it,” I growl, and then I do what we’ve both been craving for way too long. I lean forward and crash my lips onto hers, recklessly kissing her like all we have is right now.
Like she’s the very waves keeping my caged heart afloat.
Like I need Paisley more than my very next breath. Because I do.
