All I Do: Paradise Beach #3 Page 9

  My sister’s no mermaid — she’s more like a bull shark in a china shop — but she knows everyone on the island and is a fierce friend. She’ll be good for Leilani.

  “See how the water sparkles, Remy? It never looked like that in northern Florida.”

  I glance out the side window of my truck, and yeah, the Gulf is particularly blue and glittery today. Its beauty is nothing compared to the woman sitting in my truck, though.

  My eyes cut over to the passenger seat, where Leilani is squirming in those hot, little shorts of hers.

  “Let’s go swim. Please? Doesn’t the water look perfect for a swim?”

  “Just like that, you want to swim? I thought I was taking you home.” I grin.

  She shrugs. “I like being spontaneous. Don’t you?”

  “Of course. Spontaneity is my middle name.” Not literally, of course, but I’m also not kidding about that; it’s one of the main reasons why I haven’t settled down with any one woman. Once I’m tied down, that’ll mean routine. Set times for meals. No nighttime fishing, no last-minute camping trips in the Everglades with my buddies, no spur-of-the-moment beach days.

  I like my freedom. What can I say?

  “I’ve got my bikini on underneath my clothes, so I don’t even need to stop home first.”

  Leilani and a bikini? Record scratch noise.

  That’s the only encouragement I need to pull into the nearest beach parking lot. Thank God we’re on an island, because there are lots of public beaches — although I’d swim in a mud puddle if it meant watching her strip down to next to nothing.

  “Wait, should we get your bathing suit, Remy?” She looks at me with concern.

  “You’re not the only one prepared, beautiful.” I reach into the back of my truck, where I have a duffel bag full of swim trunks and extra T-shirts. “A fisherman’s always prepared. Plus, I'm wearing swim shorts already.”

  With a little squeal, she kicks off her sandals right in my truck, climbs out, and dashes across the parking lot, onto the beach. I’m laughing, trying to keep up with her.

  When we hit the sand, about twenty feet from the water, she stops and rips off her T-shirt. Of course, I stare. I think some other dudes around us are staring, too. I tamp down my irritation and gaze at her, my skin prickling with sexual need. Jesus, it’s so hot watching her wriggle those little shorts down her hips, revealing miles of tan, curvy skin.

  She’s like a sea goddess in that pink bikini.

  Since my shorts do double duty as swim trunks, all I have to do is pull off my shirt and kick off my flip-flops. By the time I do that, she’s already barreling toward the water, her long, wavy hair flying in the wind. A huge grin is plastered on her face and she‘s calling my name, telling me to follow her.

  Jesus, I wish I had a camera right now, because she looks so gorgeous. So relaxed.

  I watch as she dashes into the water. She clearly is in her element here. When she’s about thigh-deep, she dives in.

  As for me, I casually walk in, not wanting to seem too eager. It’s also a joy just to watch her surface, swim, and float. I do a slow breast stroke to where she’s treading water.

  “You’re an incredible swimmer. How old were you when you started?” The water’s not too deep here, shallow enough that I can stand. But since she’s so short, it would be just a bit over her head.

  She swims a little closer to me, making only the smallest, most contained movements to stay afloat. “My mom got me in the pool when I was about a year old. She was on the swim team in high school and wanted me to learn water safety and all that. I’ve always loved swimming. First, I was on a synchronized swim team at the Y, and then on my high school swim team. Plus, growing up near the mermaid park meant that I saw them from the time I was little. I always wanted to be a mermaid.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, you are a mermaid.”

  She grins and dips underwater, giving me a view of her sweet ass in that bikini before she goes all the way under. She darts around me in a half circle, then pops up behind me.

  I turn to face her, and she’s only inches from my body.

  “You know, Remy, I was thinking.” Little droplets of water cling to her long eyelashes, and for a moment, I’m captivated by them.

  “Yeah? About what?”

  “About being friends.”

  “What about it? Am I not being a good friend?”

  She drifts into me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I glance down. Her gorgeous tits are right there, floating just inches from me. I lick my lips. A vision of me pushing her bikini cups away and taking a nipple in my mouth comes to mind. I swallow hard.

  “You’ve been an amazing friend these past few weeks. And now that we’ve gotten to know each other, I was wondering if you might want to move into a different kind of friendship phase.”

  My eyes practically fall out of my head, I open them so wide. Is this happening for real? Please let this be real and not some sex dream where I’ll wake up tangled in my sheets and sporting a raging hard-on.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still not looking for a boyfriend,” she says quickly. “But a girl’s got needs, you know?”

  My body grows so warm that I worry that I’ll heat the Gulf and further exacerbate climate change across the globe. “Needs? Tell me about these needs.”

  She comes closer, hugging me. “I thought they were pretty obvious,” she purrs.

  Is she seducing me? Holy shit. I’m toast. My hands find her waist and I pull her toward me, my mouth finding hers, because I can’t control myself another moment around her. Within a millisecond, her body’s wrapped around mine and we’re making out. She’s an amazing kisser, and I can’t get enough. I don’t care if all of Paradise Beach has gathered on the sand to watch, I’m kissing her with everything I’ve got.

  She breaks away from our kiss, panting. “I was just thinking that since we’re so attracted to each other, we should indulge. While being friends. No strings. Just sex. Can you keep it to just sex and not get attached to me?”

  Her bright, blue eyes out-sparkle the water. This is the best day of my life. Better than winning the Boca Grande fishing tournament, even.

  “I think those were all supposed to be my lines,” I growl, my hands sliding to her ass. “And to answer your question, yes. I can maintain a friendship with benefits. I won’t make demands on you. Would love something like that with you, in fact.”

  “Good,” she murmurs in my ear. “Because I’ve been thinking about that something non-stop.”

  “Thinking about what?” All I can think about is how good her juicy ass feels in my hands.

  “Since I had that bad relationship, I’d like to explore what it’s like with another guy. Someone who is kind and wants to please me. You know, in bed.”

  Oh God, I want to fuck her right here. “I definitely want to please you. In bed and out. Wherever you want. I aim to please.”

  “But I need to feel safe, and I trust you.”

  “You should, because I’d never hurt you.”

  “And you won’t shame me for wanting sex.”

  I shake my head and murmur against her mouth. “I definitely will not shame you for wanting sex. I’m pro-sex. Anti-shame.”

  “So, I was thinking that we could… explore. And there would be no consequences. We’re friends. We have sex. Scratch each other’s itches, and all that. Simple, right?”

  I groan out loud, because she’s rubbing her breasts into my chest and my dick is so hard that it could be mistaken for a piece of driftwood. “Sounds simple to me, beautiful. But what made you change your mind? Remember, you fled from my bed in the middle of the night.”

  “I didn’t know you back then. We’d just met, and I worried I’d made a stupid decision. Thought maybe I’d picked another jerk. Turns out, I’d chosen well, because you’re a good man. You’ve proven that these past few weeks. How you’ve mentored me, helped me. How you haven’t tried to force yourself on me; how you’ve been a sweetheart.”

/>   No one’s ever called me that before, but hey, under these circumstances, it’s a badge of honor. I grin.

  She cups my face in her hands. “You didn‘t get angry when I said I wanted only friendship, and you still stuck around. You’re a gentleman, Remy Hastings.”

  “But I dunno if I’m much of a mentor. I think you’re a better businessperson than I am.”

  She grins sweetly. “You listen and that means a lot.”

  “I love listening to you.” It’s true. And not just because I think she’s the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. Leilani has great ideas, she’s excited about life, and she’s just plain fun to be around.

  She’s studying my face, her eyes serious. “And I’m sick of denying myself what I want. I’m in this new phase of life where I’m going to declare what I want and go for it. I decided to open a bar, and I’m doing it. I decided to leave my hometown and job, and I did.”

  “You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks. And now, I want to experiment with no-strings-attached sex, with you. So, I’m putting it out there. And if you decide you don’t want that anymore, we can stop. I’m sure I can find out some other friends with benefits situation, eventually.”

  Like hell she will. Some other guy would break her heart, use her, treat her horribly. No fucking way.

  “I’m up for the job and ready for immediate duty, so to speak. No need to look elsewhere.”

  She laughs, a low, sexy sound. “Glad to hear it. I didn’t really want to find another candidate for my experiment.”

  “Are you some sort of unicorn? Because I feel like I just won the lottery.” I rub my nose against hers.

  She giggles and throws her head back, and I kiss her neck.

  “Why should men have all the fun?” she asks while fisting my hair in her hands.

  “Excellent question. I don’t think they should.”

  “So, do we have a pact?” Her blue eyes shimmer and tease.

  “Remind me of our pact. I'm a little distracted by all the blood rushing to my dick right now.”

  “We demand nothing from each other.”

  “Pinkie swear. No demands.” I raise my hand out of the water. She still has her legs clamped around my waist. We link pinkie fingers.

  “No falling in love.”

  I shake my head. Why is my heart slamming against my chest? Is this for real?

  “No living together, no marriage, no controlling each other. We both respect that we have other important things to focus on. My business, your charter tours. Our attention needs to be on those.” Her voice is serious, punctuated by the small waves lapping against our bodies.

  “None of that. Promise. You focus on your business. I’ll keep on fishing. We’ll have respectful sex between friends.”

  She blinks, then grins. “Respectful, dirty sex between friends. I want to see what I’ve been missing.”

  Could my dick get any harder? I growl and draw her into my body, my hand on her jaw so that I can position her lips right against my cheek. “Beautiful, I’ll show you what you’ve been missing and more.”

  So much more.

  When she kisses me, I feel like I’ve won the biggest prize of my life. Being able to have Leilani any time we both want it? Indulging in her body, licking that sweet pussy of hers? Hanging out with her, laughing, swimming, drinking a beer together? Perfection.

  I’ve been looking for this kind of arrangement my entire life. Okay, it kind of sounds like having a girlfriend. But it’s not. She knows it, and I know it. And I’m the luckiest guy alive, because I’ve found the one woman who knows the difference.

  Chapter Thirteen

  LEILANI

  So much for keeping my mouth shut.

  Remy is too kind, too sweet, and too crazy-handsome to not climb like a mountain. All afternoon, as he helped with the furniture at the bar, patiently discussing the pros and cons of different table styles, I kept noticing his foxy smile. And the way he listened carefully to everything I said, his honey-colored eyes bright and attentive.

  I thought about how he had given me the bracelet made by his sister. He'd passed it off as something casual, but it had been a thoughtful gesture. I considered how diligent he’s been in introducing me to other business owners and pondered how he’s patiently told me about the island’s history, the demographics of the tourists, and his thoughts on the future of the whole place.

  And then when we were in the water, the small waves brushing against his biceps, I felt this surge of invincibility. Okay, and horniness. That too. The man’s mere presence drives me crazy.

  But back to the invincible part. I’ve already done the hard stuff. I left Brent, moved away from the only town I’d ever known, and given up my beloved job. I started a business.

  Asking for no-strings-attached pleasure with the hottest man on Paradise Beach? Pfft. Piece of cake compared to everything else. Be brave, Leilani, Mom had told me when I’d left.

  And this is nothing like what Mom does with her men. She falls in love. She moves in, gets married, opens a joint checking account.

  No way am I falling in love with him. I’ve got my own place and my own bank account.

  But why not ask if he wants a casual hookup? Isn’t claiming my own pleasure part of being a brave woman?

  Hell, yes it is.

  So what if he doesn’t want a relationship? I don’t, either. It’s time I stop with the fairytale fantasy of happy-ever-after, anyway. Why not try happy endings of the sexual kind instead?

  It’s worth a shot. I can call it off anytime if I feel like I’m getting in over my head.

  Because I’m owning my desires. I can do anything.

  And so, we’re at my bungalow door, still damp from our swim and kissing like mad while I grope for my key.

  “Want you so bad,” he murmurs, biting my neck while I unlock the door.

  Finally, I get the damned thing unlocked and we tumble in. The door slams shut, and he presses me against it. I’m whimpering as he slides his fingers to my neck — he does this intimate thing where he holds me in place, his hands gentle, his lips inches from mine. It makes my insides liquefy every time he does it.

  He’s grinning against my mouth like he knows exactly what he’s doing. And maybe he does. Because he seems to take possession of my body quite quickly, and I’m on board with being a willing participant.

  “Hope you have condoms here,” he growls.

  I nip at his bottom lip, pondering whether I should tell him no. Make him work and leave here to go to the store. Bad idea. I want him too badly, and yeah, I do have condoms in my nightstand drawer. I’d bought them a week ago, just in case.

  Just in case I caved.

  Knowing I would, eventually, give in to the deliciousness that is Remy Hastings.

  “In fact, I do have condoms, right next to my bed,” I murmur.

  His eyes flash, wild and unfocused. I can tell that he’s not sure what to do. Carry me to the bedroom? Strip off my still-wet bikini right here? Have sex against the door?

  He hoists me in his arms. Carry me to the bed it is. I laugh and kick off my sandals.

  “The bedroom’s over there.” I point, although I suspect Remy has some sort of homing device inside his brain that lets him know exactly where the nearest, comfortable, horizontal surface is located.

  He sets me on the bed, and I open the nightstand drawer, where the box of unopened condoms sits. I point and he grins, then peels his T-shirt off, revealing his washboard abs.

  “Gimme,” I say, reaching for his stomach.

  “So impatient.” He grins as he unties his swim shorts. “Don’t want to ruin your bed with my wet clothes.”

  The shorts drop to the floor. I gasp a little when I see his giant erection. It's bigger than I recall. I'd put that entire thing in my mouth?

  He chuckles when he sees me staring.

  “You’ll have to get reacquainted with him, I’m afraid.” He climbs on top of me. “Hope you don’t mind.
”

  “It’s nice to meet you again,” I murmur, running my hand down his chest and then wrapping my fingers around him.

  “He is extremely pleased to see you once more.”

  “I can tell.”

  As I’m stroking, Remy’s breathing hard and pulling my shorts off. I let go of him and tug my T-shirt over my head, eager to feel my skin against his.

  While I strip off my bikini top, Remy lowers my bottoms over my legs. He pauses to check me out and my pulse kicks up. I love how he’s reacting to me, with a half-crazed look in his eyes.

  “Fuck, you are so beautiful. Everywhere. Spread your legs, Leilani. I want to see that pretty pussy of yours.”

  Ohh yes. Something about him talking dirty like that makes me even wetter. I follow his command and his hand goes between my legs.

  “How wet are you? Let’s see. Hmm.” He leans over me, his fingers exploring. “Oh, yeah. You’re soaked. Fucking soaked. You like when I talk like this?”

  “Remy, yes.”

  He’s working magic, the pad of his middle finger grazing against my clit with just the right pressure. I get wetter, creamier, and hotter as each minute passes. It doesn’t take long for me to reach the brink of orgasm, my breath coming in soft moans.

  “I’m going to come. Is that what you want, Remy? I’m going to come before you get inside of me.”

  “This isn’t a onetime event, beautiful. This is just the warmup. Just the beginning, now that we have this agreement.”

  I open my legs wider and he groans as if he’s the one about to explode.

  “Now,” I cry. “Please.”

  He rubs a little faster, and I clench my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms. Never have I felt like this, neither with Brent nor when I touch myself. It’s as if an atomic bomb of pleasure has gone off in my clit, spreading aftershocks through my body. My eyes flutter shut so I can enjoy the final waves of my orgasm. My muscles clench against his fingers.