“No problem.” He looked at the shells within the mesh. “But I thought you told me you only collect the white ones.”
Erika shrugged. That was true when they’d spotted the pearly ones in the moonlight. But today had called for black. Until now.
“I was having a rough day.”
“The biker guy?” Evan asked, jerking a thumb back toward the hotel, where Butch was undoubtedly still seeking satisfaction from the woman in their bed.
“Yeah.”
“Mind if I’m honest with you?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
A salty breeze ruffled her hair, and he tenderly pushed a strand from her face, tucked it behind her ear. His fingers were wet and sandy from capturing her bag, and the odd sensation of them against her heated skin sent a frisson of anxiety to her chest.
“You don’t seem like the biker babe type.”
She laughed. “You already know my type?”
“No,” he said, squinting in the sun and making those blue eyes even more potent within the sea of brown lashes. “But I’m figuring it out. Matter of fact,” he started, then grinned.
“What?”
“I’d like to figure out more right now, if you’re willing to spend a couple of hours with me until I have to catch my ride.”
She looked back at the hotel and thought about the mistake she’d made believing she could tame Butch. Believing she could love Butch. And perhaps the biggest mistake of all—believing he was her true love. “I think I’d like that.”
Amy waited while Landon opened the door to his apartment. She’d practically attacked him in the truck and had actually asked him to pull over so they could complete what he’d started on the Wheelie, but he’d insisted their first time wouldn’t be in a vehicle.
Which was fine. She guessed. But she hadn’t wanted to wait.
However, now that the locks clicked open on the door to his apartment and she entered the realm of Landon Brooks, she felt queasy.
“Landon?”
“Yeah?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close and kissing her ear.
“I’m afraid.”
His entire body tensed. “You’re afraid? Amy, if you don’t want to,” he said, shaking his head, “then we won’t. I won’t push you into doing something you don’t want to do. But I thought this was what you wanted.”
She looked up to see his eyes, but they were hidden in the shadow of his hat. So she brought her hands to his face, then eased them to the brim, tilting it back so she could watch his reaction to her words.
“That isn’t it,” she said. “I’m afraid I’m not as experienced as you, and . . . you might be disappointed.”
His smile warmed her heart. “Oh, honey, you won’t disappoint me. And you’re a sex authority, in any case, or Vernon Miller wouldn’t have hired you.”
“There’s a reason I’m always promoting the toys for singles,” she informed, and held her breath while she waited for his response.
“Yeah, I figured that,” he admitted. “And I don’t know exactly what your experience has been in the past.” He held up a hand, then added, “I don’t need to know. But I do know that whoever you were with that didn’t bring pleasure to both parties involved should be shot.”
She smiled. “Go on. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Tell you what, why don’t we relax a bit before things get overly heated. I want to make sure you’re doing what you want to do, okay? And if you’re not ready, I’ll drive you home. But be prepared, I will expect a good-night kiss at the door.”
“Deal,” she said, her nerves settling. “So, what do you want to do?”
“I’ve got an idea. Sit down, and I’ll fix us something to drink.” He indicated the sofa.
“I don’t drink,” she said. “Never have. I like going to bars, but I always drive, and I always drink Coke. I just go because of the dancing.”
“Good to know. But that’s not the kind of drink I meant. Sit down and relax,” he directed. “And trust me.” He took off his hat and placed it on her head. “There. Looks better on you than me, anyhow.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” she said, then winked at the cowboy heading toward his kitchen.
Within minutes, Landon Brooks returned, holding a tall parfait glass in each hand, and sat beside her on the couch.
“Sundaes?” Amy asked, eyeing the cherries on top of whipped cream.
“Coke floats,” he corrected, and handed her one.
“Oh wow, I haven’t had one of these since I left Sheldon. They sold them at the five-and-dime.”
“Let me guess. They had the old soda fountain fixed up with a long counter, tall bar stools and plenty of cold treats.”
“Pretty much.” She licked the top off the whipped cream, then withdrew the tall spoon he’d placed inside the glass and licked the sweetness off the metal.
Landon’s gray eyes smoldered as he watched her tongue on the spoon. His throat pulsed thickly as he swallowed, then spoke. “We had one too,” he said, “in Beaumont.”
“I love Coke floats.” She removed the spoon and tilted the glass to drink the liquid from beneath the floating ice cream.
The whipped topping met her mouth and gave her a foamy mustache. She pulled the glass from her lips and, laughing, prepared to wipe the white substance away.
“Oh no,” Landon said, catching her hand. “I love whipped cream.” Then he leaned close and licked the confection from above her mouth.
Amy’s breath lodged in her throat.
“Delicious.” His eyes were even more intense, even more seductive.
“Landon?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’ve had enough Coke float.”
“What would you like next?” His face displayed a hint of hope, and she answered it with the truth.
“You.”
Taking her glass, he placed it on the table beside his. “Perfect.” Then he put her hand in his and led her to the bedroom.
Amy watched him turn on the light, then dim it to a pale romantic glow. Her nerves were racing, but she didn’t want to stop. She wanted this. To be with a man. Completely. To be with Landon Brooks. Completely.
“Are you okay with this?” he asked, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her body, warming her with his touch. His hands cupped her breasts, and her nipples burned for more.
“Yes.”
His bed was like his truck, big and impressive. The thick wooden posts and massive carved headboard reminded Amy of something worthy of Paul Bunyan. But totally suitable for Landon Brooks. He was everything male and everything powerful. Everything she’d been scared of . . . until tonight.
True, she was still fearful of being hurt, of being used and discarded the way her mother had been. And the way she’d been with Cameron. But there was also that tinge of hope, just beneath the surface, that hinted at something more. Perhaps something more with Landon.
He picked her up and placed her reverently in the center of the bed.
“You’re still sure?” he asked, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Amy watched as the sprinkle of hair she’d viewed at the top of his chest formed a slender path to the top of his jeans. His chest was broad, with dark flat disks centering each side. His stomach was washboard solid. His hand moved to his belt, but stopped while he awaited her answer.
“I’m sure.”
His boots thudded as he pulled them off and dropped them to the floor, then socks, pants and his black briefs. The thickness of his erection, the length of it as it seemed to grow even more beneath her gaze, made her breathing catch.
“Amy,” he said, climbing on the bed.
“Yes?”
“I want you.”
“I know. I want you too.”
“But I don’t want to hurt you,” he added.
“I . . . don’t know if it will hurt or not, but . . .” She paused, wondering how much to say; then she decided if she was going to trust him, she was going to trust him completely. “I’ve only been with one person,” she admitted. “And it’s been three years.”
“Did you like it then? With him?”
“No.”
“Did you come?”
Amy hesitated, then answered. “No.”
He ran a finger down her cheek, brought it to her trembling lip. “I promise you,” he said, “this time you will.”
She smiled. “I believe you.”
“Good.” He brought one hand beneath her shirt, moved it to cup her breast, then gently kneaded the firm mound. “Do you like that?”
“Yeah.”
“I want you to tell me if anything hurts. And I want you to tell me what you like, okay?”
“All right.” She had assumed a guy asking what you want him to do—what you like or don’t like—would be a turnoff. It wasn’t. At all. It was sweet . . . and empowering.
“I’m assuming you know what to do with the toys to get you where you need to go, right?” he asked, moving his hand slowly toward the other breast as Amy’s belly quivered.
“Yes.”
“So tell me what you do,” he said; Amy closed her eyes and thought about all the times she’d had orgasms in her bed while thinking of him.
Dare she tell him now?
“I don’t know if I can,” she whispered.
“Can have an orgasm with me, or can tell me how you have them on your own?” he asked, now moving her tank top up her belly and pulling it over her head.
Amy lifted up from the bed as he removed her top, but left her eyes closed.
“Amy?”
“Yeah.”
“Open your eyes.”
She did, and the heat in his eyes nearly scorched her. “I’m not used to someone seeing me when I come,” she said honestly.
“Has anyone ever seen you?” he asked, one finger traipsing down her belly and playing with the clasp on her shorts.
“Did you see my face in the Wheelie?”
He laughed. “No, I didn’t.”
“Then no, no one has seen me.”
Another deep rumbling laugh made her pulse skitter. “Good. I’ll be the first. But I want you to watch too. I want you to see how excited I get when I see you come.”
“Don’t you want inside me?” Sure, she hadn’t originally wanted a man, but now that she’d changed her mind, she didn’t want anything less than complete fulfillment.
“Yes. After we’ve taken care of you. If you’re used to those toys, it may take a bit of effort, and I’m totally willing to oblige.”
She swallowed. It did take her a while with the toys, but she liked that prolonged length of time before she came. Would it take her longer with a real man, since she spent so much time playing with her toys? And why hadn’t she considered that before?
Easy. She hadn’t expected to be with a real man.
But she was now. A hot cowboy who was hell-bent on giving her pleasure tonight.
What if she couldn’t get there without a toy?
She nearly laughed. Well, of course, she could. She’d certainly got there in the Wheelie, and screamed like the world had ended, to boot. But that was in an exciting locale, with wind racing and the ride soaring. What if she needed something extra to push her over the edge?
Would Landon be terribly disappointed if she couldn’t get there with him?
“Landon?”
“Yeah?” he asked, tugging her shorts down her legs. “Damn, you’ve got a lot of leg here, lady.”
“Thanks, I guess. Um, Landon?” How could she ask him? And how could she not?
“Yeah?”
“What if I can’t orgasm without a toy?” She squinted and braced for his reply.
He actually laughed. “Amy, what do you think you did at the park?”
“I meant without all the excitement and stuff. What if I can’t get there in a regular bed?” Not that this bed was regular. Heck, there wasn’t anything about Landon Brooks that could be considered regular. The beyond-regular rod between his legs was another prime example.
Could she handle all that?
“Oh, I’m not worried about it,” he said, sliding her red satin panties along the same path her shorts had followed.
“You’re not?” she asked as he hummed in approval at her intimate flesh before him.
“No, honey, I’m not.”
She raised her head and watched him move his hands up her inner thighs, push her legs apart and look at her womanhood. It made her feel awkward, being on display for him. Did he like what he saw? Because that hum sure sounded like he did, but couldn’t he say something to let her know for sure? And what would he say?
“I want to taste you,” he whispered, moving up the bed.
Well, yeah, he could say that.
She gasped as his tongue licked her clit. “Oh wow.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “Wow.”
His hands massaged her legs, then her hips, then crept up to tease her nipples. While he thoroughly explored her intimate flesh, Amy fought for control.
Who had she been kidding? Not be able to come? With this kind of action happening between her legs?
“Landon,” she warned.
“Mmmm-hmmm.”
“I’m going to. I’m almost there.”
Another sound of agreement echoed through the room.
“But I want you in me when I do,” she said, and she meant it. She wanted to come
with
him, and if he didn’t stop what he was doing, she wouldn’t make it. “Please!”
He smiled broadly as he raised up, then moved his body up the bed. Reaching to the nightstand, he slid the top drawer open and withdrew a foil packet. Within seconds, thank goodness, he’d sheathed his long, hard length.
“Now,” Amy ordered.
“Aren’t you afraid you might not be able to come without a toy?” he asked, and pressed the head of his penis against her burning core.
“I’m going to come without you if you don’t get inside me right now,” she said, her entire body on fire. “Now, Landon!”
“Anything the lady wants,” he said, plunging inside, then sucking in his breath. “Oh, Amy, you’re so tight.” He stopped his motion. “Are you sure I’m not hurting—”
She bucked her hips to pull him in deeper. “Don’t you dare stop,” she said. “I’m so close. Please . . . don’t stop.”
He grabbed her hips and matched his rhythm to hers, pushing in deep, pulling out, going in farther, pulling out. In and out, in and out, until her world exploded and Landon growled through his release.
Amy Campbell finally understood the meaning of complete.
E
rika shakily wiped tears from her eyes as she waited in the emergency room lobby. She’d never liked hospitals, didn’t care for doctors. But right now she was glad Savannah Memorial had been as close as it was to Tybee Island. And she prayed the doctors on staff were as good as what the nurses had claimed.