Page 54 of Just Beachy

“I frickin’ love being inside you,” he groans as he pumps harder. Faster.

I’m hanging on by the slimmest of threads when he shouts, “Now! Oh, my God, Sydney! Come with me now!”

My body does as he commands. Wave after wave of sensation ripples through me.

• • •

We lay tangledup together for a time, breathing heavily. Then he rolls off me and onto his side, pulling me against him. My back tight against his chest. My buttocks pressed into his crotch. Our breathing slows. I float on a cloud of satisfaction. My eyes flutter shut. The next thing I’m aware of is his arms tightening around me and his penis stirring against me.

He draws a deep breath. “I can’t get enough of you.”

I flip myself over so that we’re face-to-face. I smile. “Yeah, I can feel Mr. Sleepy Head looking for attention.”

His hand brushes up my stomach and across my breasts. His penis hardens, its tip teasing against my belly. I’m more than ready to show it, and him, exactly what I’m in the mood for when Luke lifts his head and steals a look at his phone. “Are you sure we have time for another round?”

“Yes.” I actually feel like I might die if he doesn’t bury himself inside me right this minute. I push him onto his back, climb on top of him, and take his penis in both hands, running them up and down the length of him. Then I lean over to take him into my mouth.

He fists his hands in my hair and gives himself up to me. When I lower myself onto him, he groans and wraps his hands around my waist. I ride him slowly at first then faster as I take him all the way into me. “Are you sure?” he says on a groan. “About the time, I mean?”

The friction builds. I’m so turned on, I can barely absorb what he’s saying. “What are you talking about?”

He groans again. His head falls back. His hands are on my buttocks. “I’m talking about your audition,” he grits out. “Don’t you have one this morning?”

“Holy crap!” I practically throw myself off him, and swivel to look at the clock. It’s 9:00 a.m.

The audition for a national chain of beauty clinics is scheduled for 10:00 a.m. In downtownTampa.Which is a good thirty to thirty-five minutes away. If rush-hour traffic is over.

I vault out of bed. “Damn it! There’s no way I can get back to Grand’s, shower, dress, get fully made up, and make it there in time.”

I’m dangerously close to tears. Because this is the first time since I got dropped fromMurder 101that a casting director has specifically requested me. Only I’m going to be a “no show” because I chose a night of sex over what I still hope will be my career.

“Don’t you have something in my closet?” Luke asks. “I know I’ve seen makeup in one of the bathroom vanity drawers.”

It’s hard to focus when your brain is stuck in a frantic loop ofOh my God, Oh myGod…And not in the good orgasm way. Which is when it occurs to me that it might be all those orgasms, and Luke in general, that’ve helped me feel positive and hopeful.

Tears well up.

“Sydney, stop.” He places his hands on my shouldersand looks into my eyes. “Calm down. Get yourself into the shower. Put on makeup. Get dressed.”

This is when I realize I don’t have anything to put on except what I wore to the gun range. I race to the closet and find a pair of heels buried in a corner and a dress crumpled on the closet floor. I hold up the horribly wrinkled dress but can’t quite hold back the tears.

Luke puts a gentle finger under my chin and looks into my eyes.

“Go take a shower and put on makeup,” he says again. “I’ll steam your dress. Then I’ll drive you to the audition.”

“You have a steamer?” I ask in amazement.

“Doesn’t everybody?” He grins. “Hurry up. There’ll still be plenty of northbound traffic at this time of day.”

“But, but…” I sputter. “Don’t you have to get to work?”

“Don’t worry about what I’ve got to do.” He’s already pulling on jeans and reaching for a T-shirt. “I’m sure I can get someone to cover for me.”

“Really?” I feel the first glimmer of hope.

“Really.” He shoos me toward the bathroom. “Go on. Hurry up. I’ll make you a coffee to go.”

Twenty-Six

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