Blues Beach Page 9

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks. So how long have you and Jeff been married?”

  She frowned. “Huh?”

  “You and Jeff.”

  She smiled. “Oh. He’s not my husband. He’s my husband-in-law.”

  He was about to ask for clarification when yet another person walked up to talk to him.

  He didn’t want to be rude, but all he wanted to do was drag Tracey somewhere private and talk to her. Like maybe the beach.

  Alone.

  It was nearly eleven local time, meaning way past his usual bedtime, when he was finally able to take her hand, coax her up out of her chair, and head down the stairs to the beach. A chilly breeze whipped in off the Pacific, so it wasn’t exactly pleasant, but at least it insured their privacy.

  “What did you mean Jeff’s your husband-in-law? What does that even mean?”

  “Long story short, my daughter’s father came out as gay and we divorced. I met and married an idiot, and finally divorced him late last year. Jeff is my ex’s husband—Emma’s step-father. He volunteered to come with me so I didn’t have to face my family alone.” Her smile faded. “As much of jerks as they were when we were kids, they’re even worse now.”

  He knew he should be focusing on the fact that her family still sucked, but he needed clarification. “Your ex’s husband? You’re telling me Jeff’s gay?”

  Her smile returned and widened, playful. “Very. But we share the same last name. I went back to using it after my divorce last November, so I’d have the same last name as Emma. Emma calls him her bonus dad.”

  “You’re single?”

  “Not even dating.”

  He kissed her. It wasn’t even a conscious thought, more an instinct. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, eyes open so he could look at her and ground himself and know he wasn’t dreaming it, wasn’t imagining it, wasn’t hallucinating it.

  It was real, she was real, as real as the soft, cool sand under his feet and the salty tang in the air.

  She eagerly kissed him back, no hesitation, like she wanted it as badly as he did.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered when he finally lifted his lips from hers.

  “I missed you, too. I’m sorry I broke up with you. I’ve always regretted it.”

  He stared into her eyes, transfixed, old feelings flooding back, threatening to sweep him away like a strong rip current. He couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol, even though he was still way more than buzzed, and suspected she was, too.

  “Come back to my room with me, please? So we can talk?” Maybe it was the beer and exhaustion and broken heart talking, but he needed her.

  Wanted her.

  Still loved her, and he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t.

  At the very least he wanted to talk to her alone, uninterrupted, and see if he was chasing a fantasy or if there was a chance.

  She rose up onto her toes and kissed him in response. “Let’s stop by my room so I can tell Jeff. I don’t want him to worry if I’m out late.”

  “If?” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but now that he did, his groin tightened and his cock twitched to see her smile.

  She tucked her face against his chest the way she used to, still feeling so right in his arms. “When.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Tracey couldn’t keep her eyes off Eric as they headed back up the stairs to the hotel. Despite the years and lines on his face, and the traces of grey in his brown hair, she could still clearly see the boy she’d been desperately in love with so many years ago.

  They stopped by her room first, so she could let Jeff know not to wait up.

  Jeff grinned. “You going to be long?”

  “Probably. He’s up on the third floor.”

  “Have fun, sweetheart. Take your phone.”

  “Thanks.”

  She rejoined Eric and they started walking toward the stairs at the end of the balcony. “You said Emma’s okay with her dad being gay and married?”

  “Yeah. She loves both her bonus dads.”

  “Wait, what? Both? I thought you said you’re single.”

  “I am. It’s complicated.”

  “So, I gotta say, this situation is not adding up in my head. Can we start over, because I think with all the interruptions down there, I missed something.”

  “Long story short, and without giving away too much because of their privacy, when Emma’s father and I divorced, it was because he came out to me as gay. He loved me, but he wasn’t in love with me. We divorced over eight years ago and he recently remarried. Jeff contracted Lyme disease last summer and had to quit working, so they wanted him on my ex’s health insurance.”

  “But…you said there’s another guy?”

  “They’re…together. Brandon and Jeff and Stuart.” She stopped and turned to him. “And considering they love my daughter as if she was their own, and she loves them and calls them her ‘bonus dads,’ I’m okay with it. That’s why Jeff flew out with me. I don’t have a good relationship with my parents or my sister and brothers. What you remember from back then is nothing close to what it later became. Jeff volunteered to come with me, since he’s not working because of his health. Brandon was worried about me and didn’t want me to come alone. He couldn’t leave because of work. The company he works for is building a new store, and he can’t take extra time off right now.”

  “So they’re a poly triad?”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Is that a problem?” She hoped not, because if he was going to be a dick about this, or about Brandon being gay, that was a nonstarter right there.

  “No, not at all. It’s good you have a solid relationship with them.”

  * * * *

  It was unusual to find someone so cool with a poly relationship outside of the lifestyle. Not just cool, but it almost felt as if Tracey was challenging him to make a snide comment about the men, which, of course, he wasn’t about to. He didn’t have a problem with it.

  Maybe it was the three beers chattering and loosening his brain, or the trip down memory lane stirring something, but he wanted to keep Tracey talking. Spend more time with her.

  A lot more time.

  It sucked she was flying out Sunday morning.

  This was the first time he’d felt even remotely human in five years. The first time his soul felt like it had reattached itself to his body and wasn’t adrift in an acrid sea of emotional sewage and grief.

  Like he gave a shit about something.

  Not simply going through the motions, for once.

  When they reached his room, he honestly had meant to talk to her. To sit down and have an adult discussion.

  That’s not what happened.

  He no sooner got the door locked behind them than she was on him, kissing him. Somewhere between the door and the bed their clothes fell off, and he found himself lying naked on top of her, with her reaching between his legs to find his hard cock and guide him inside her.

  “Wait,” he gasped. “I don’t have any condoms.”

  “I’m on the pill.” She grabbed him and pulled him back down, and his balls kicked common sense out of the room.

  He hadn’t been with anyone since Paige, and precious few people before her, after Tracey.

  Fuck it.

  He’d take the risk.

  When he slid deep inside her pussy, they both moaned and he held still, afraid he was going to explode. Hot and slick and sweetly tight, just like he remembered her.

  He slanted his lips over hers and savored this feeling, now awash in old memories he’d long struggled to forget.

  This was them, one of the many perfections they’d shared. It’d never felt awkward or fumbling between them, even though they’d lost their virginity together. It’d always felt perfect, and he knew he was a liar if he tried to deny how much his heart had ached after losing her, and still did to this day.

  Her fingers raked down his back, hands cupping his ass and digging in, trying to urge him to
start moving.

  He wouldn’t be rushed. Instead, he sat up, smiling down at her as he did, and grabbed her hands so he could pin them over her head.

  Now he knew there was a name for everything they’d done as kids, the fantasies they’d had, the kind of sex that had turned them both on. Back then, he hadn’t even known it was a thing, much less a thing other people did and enjoyed, too.

  Wasn’t like either of them could go to their parents and ask them about it. Her parents would have freaked out that she was allowing herself to fall into patriarchal stereotypes that fostered sexist blah, blah, blah.

  His parents would have freaked out over the fact that they didn’t want him getting Tracey pregnant when he was going off to college and “ruining his life.”

  With his left hand, he held her wrists pinned against the mattress while leaning in so he could lick and suck her left nipple.

  The soft gasp escaping her made his cock twitch. “Yes!”

  He wondered if either of her exes knew this about her, what he knew.

  What he wished they’d been able to explore and grow into together.

  The thing he really didn’t dare risk talking about, in case that freaked her out and ruined whatever this was between them now.

  He wished they were both stone-cold sober and having this conversation, but he’d take the win.

  He wished this weekend could last forever, and that wasn’t even the beer talking.

  “Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispered around her flesh, his tongue flicking at her nipple until it was a taut peak. Meanwhile, she squirmed and tried to rock her hips against him to coax him into moving.

  “Please fuck me!”

  He nearly came right there. How long since he’d heard her beg like that?

  Too fucking long.

  He started teasing her right nipple into the same peaked state and loved the sweetly desperate sounds she made under him.

  I could spend the rest of my life with her like this.

  * * * *

  Part of Tracey’s brain, which wasn’t totally marinated in rum, told her that maybe this wasn’t the world’s smartest idea. That it’d been a lot of years since they’d seen each other.

  That they weren’t those two kids any longer.

  She didn’t.

  Fucking.

  Care.

  For the first time since she’d said good-bye to him, she felt like the world had truly righted itself again.

  Like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

  Hot, wet heat engulfed her left nipple again, every pull of his mouth sending jolts of need straight to her clit and making her squirm against him.

  His cock filled her the way it always had—perfectly.

  All those games they’d played—fairly prescient, actually—they could now engage in however they wanted.

  And damn, she wanted.

  His green gaze met hers from where his lips were latched around her nipple again, and she didn’t understand how he couldn’t be fucking her when her body felt like she’d explode if she didn’t come soon.

  He relinquished her nipple. Releasing her wrists, he whispered, “Stay.”

  He pushed up onto his arms, which he braced on either side of her head, and stared down at her as he took a long, slow stroke out and in again.

  She didn’t even think about moving her hands.

  The first time they’d ever made love flashed into her mind, how he’d startled her, at first, by going down on her…quickly making her explode in a harder orgasm than any she’d ever given herself with her fingers or a shower massager.

  Only later, as an adult, did she realize how lucky she’d been to have a boyfriend who’d been determined to make sure she felt good.

  And he had.

  He always had.

  “Are you my good girl?”

  Her heart rolled and tilted in good ways, desperately trying to slide back into that perfectly shaped niche where it used to reside when life had been sweet and right and she’d wanted to spend the rest of it with him.

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. The way she’d used to call Brandon that in bed together without him even asking her to, even from the start.

  The way she’d always felt right calling Eric that when they were together in bed.

  Something she’d never said to Pat.

  He withdrew, pausing before slamming his cock home, hard and deep, again and again, and driving her up the cliff at an incredibly fast pace. The perfect angle, the perfect thrust—and she gasped as her orgasm swelled and burst.

  A thousand memories swept through her at once, at how good, how perfect they’d always felt together, memories she’d tried not to think about because it had hurt too damn much.

  His lips crushed hers as he hurried to catch up with her, join her, his moans muffled by her mouth while he finally fell still inside her. Kisses that turned gentle and tender, and he shifted his weight to his elbows so he could clasp her hands.

  The way he used to.

  “Please stay tonight,” he softly said, his tone nearly breaking her heart.

  She tightly squeezed his hands. “Absolutely.”

  * * * *

  Eric took his time kissing her, knowing he wouldn’t have to rush now that she would stay the night. Which was a damn good thing, since he felt exhausted. Still, he didn’t want to miss a second of time with her. He untangled his hands from hers and kissed his way down her body, settling between her legs and enjoying the familiar sounds she made.

  It didn’t matter that nearly twenty-five years had passed since they’d last seen each other.

  He wanted her in his life, wanted to drown his sorrows in the past, wanted to soak in every second of time he could have with her.

  Wasn’t like he could afford to visit her in Florida very often, and with a job and a daughter, she wouldn’t be able to come visit him, most likely.

  Still, hope had germinated and its roots struggled to sink in deep and grab hold tightly.

  Whatever he had to do, he’d do it.

  Anything.

  Everything.

  He nudged her thighs more widely apart and slowly swiped his tongue up her clit, playing with it, loving the way her hands tangled in his hair and held on tightly.

  He hooked his hands around her thighs and held on, licking and sucking, circling her clit and playing with it with his lips. He wasn’t sure he was good for a second one tonight, especially with his body still on New Jersey time, and this soon after the first one. But he wanted to make sure she felt good.

  Besides, he loved the sounds she made. He always had.

  He could still hear the girl he’d loved, still loved, all her sweet moans and sighs.

  And he’d missed her so fucking much.

  It felt like no time had passed between them as he remembered all the stolen time they’d shared together as kids, her room or his when parents weren’t home, or in the deep shadows under the trees at night on the beach, or even in his car.

  He still loved making love to her. As a teenager it’d fascinated him to find out women could orgasm multiple times, and he’d always enjoyed the sweet, blissful glaze in her eyes after he’d blown her mind. When friends complained their girlfriends didn’t like sex, or bitched that they weren’t enjoying it, he’d always smiled and kept his secrets to himself.

  For starters, his friends would have razzed him for actually daring to freaking research it. What kind of geek researches that?

  Men who like to keep their women happy did, that’s who. Although it would have been nice if he’d stumbled onto BDSM information earlier.

  Would have encouraged him to step up more, take charge in a way to keep her from breaking up with him.

  Would have proven to her he loved her for who she was, and that he wasn’t interested in some college girl, that he didn’t care that she wasn’t going to college.

  He’d only been interested in her.

  Always her.

  Only her.

&nb
sp; Finally, by the fourth time he’d gotten her over, she was patting him on the top of the head. Even that signal still the same as it had been between them, heartachingly sweet.

  He crawled back up the bed and cradled her in his arms, feeling contented and at peace in a way he hadn’t in…

  Nearly twenty-five years.

  From the sound of her breathing, he knew she was wide awake, so he didn’t let himself fall asleep yet even though it’d be so easy to do.

  Her fingers traced shapes across his chest, and her soft voice tugged on every nerve in his heart, holding him there, anchoring him. “How did she die?”

  Ice slammed into his heart and soul, ripping and tearing. It took him a moment to be able to form the words through his pain. “Car accident. It was icy out, and she had an appointment with her obstetrician. A truck hit black ice and blew through a stop sign. Not the guy’s fault. It was mine.”

  She looked up. “What?”

  “I’d lost my job at the brokerage the year before when the financial bubble popped. I was at my new job and putting in a lot of hours because I’d just gotten a promotion. I was supposed to pick her up and drive her to the appointment, and I got delayed at work, so she drove herself and I was going to meet her there. If I’d driven her…” He choked back the sob threatening to rip itself loose. “If I’d been there, she wouldn’t have been in the accident. I lost her and the baby.”

  “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry.” She sat up and laid her palm against his cheek. “But that’s not your fault.”

  He hadn’t told her the rest. “I was responsible for her. Not just as her husband. We…sort of like you and I were as kids, only…more formal.”

  “Master and slave?”

  He sat up, now feeling wide awake. “That doesn’t freak you out?”

  She snorted. “No.” Immediately, she clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me.” She dropped her hand. “No, it doesn’t freak me out. My ex—Brandon—is a Dom. We…” She sighed. “I found out later it really was the only way he could be with me sexually. Jeff and Stuart are his boys, and he’s their Master.”