Page 48 of Sex, Lies, and Margarita Mixes

Uh, yeah. It wasn’t me.

My head swivels as I scour the water for the threat and Roxy is racing full speed ahead to the beach. Her ass is catching the sunlight, and her titties are bouncing like balloons on her chest—but those puppies are all natural. People are standing on the beach… mouths agape as they stare. I scream at her, “Baby, you’re as naked as the day you were born and everyone can s—oh, fuck… fuck me!” Something smooth rubs against my thigh… very close to my dick. I look down and bellow, “A shark… a shark thinks my dick is food. Oh, hell no!” It’s grey… a sand shark, but a fucking shark none the less. I cup my dick with my hands to protect it—not that I can cover the whole thing—and follow after Roxy, uncaring of the fact that we’re both naked as fuck and causing a spectacle.

Bree, Sasha, and Miguel are on shore pointing and gasping. Whitney is screaming, “Get out! Get the hell out of the water!” Miguel starts laughing. That mother fucker is bent over, holding his stomach, and losing his damn mind like this is the funniest thing he’s ever seen. He’s laughing so hard, he falls over into the sand.

Roxy makes it to shore and Sasha hands her a towel to cover herself. I finally make it out of the water and my heart is about to jump out of my chest. No one hands me anything.

Still holding my dick with two hands because I am traumatized, I catch the eye of a mother, whose face is the color of a tomato. Her eyes bug out of her head as she stares at me with her hands over her kid’s eyes.

Roxy looks around the beach and she starts laughing her ass off. I can’t help it, I join her.

I’m naked and cupping my dick while I moon everyone on the beach.

I’ve had a lot of moments in my life.

This is the moment I’ll relive on loop until I’m old, grumpy, and making pancakes for our grandkids.

Trent throws me a towel, and I catch it with one hand and keep my man-meat covered— well mostly, I’m big— with the other.

Roxy is still chortling so hard she’s now wheezing. Water drips off her lashes. Her lips are swollen from my mouth. And I know—right then—I’m never letting her go again.

“You’re it for me, Chase West.”

God help me.

Towel-wrapped, we leave our captive audience and all head back to the house like minor celebrities returning from battle.

Trent jokingly asks if the shark caught a bite of us.

Roxy grins and says, “Nah, we’re too quick for that. But if he’d arrived two seconds later, he might have interrupted me taking a bite of Chase.” She gestures at me, “I mean, do you see my man?!”

Miguel snorts, “Babe, everyone saw all of your man… and all of you.”

Ignoring him, I almost carry her back to the room right then.

Dinner is ordered in tonight. It’s served on the patio under a string of twinkle lights that look like something out of a fairy tale where the sex is phenomenal and the emotional baggage comes with dessert.

Bree passes out champagne.

Whitney starts clapping.

Miguel stands and tries to make a toast, but Roxy cuts him off. “Actually… I’ve got this one.”

She stands. Her hair is damp. The diamond in her ring catches the light and sparkles. Her eyes are on me. “My name’s Roxy Ruiz West,” she announces to the group, “and I would like to publicly confirm that I have ruined this man for all others. He cries during Pixar movies, eats pussy like it’s his last meal, and made me banana bread with chocolate chips because I needed a food hug.”

Trent starts clapping.

Weston salutes me.

Miguel mutters, “I need to rethink everything.”

Roxy lifts her glass. “To second chances. And third orgasms.”

The group explodes.

I stand next to her. Lift my own glass. And say simple, honest, and loud, “To the only woman who ever made me want to be better. And the only one I’ll ever belong to.”

She’s blinking fast.

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