Page 87 of So Close

“And even though you have terrible taste in breakfast foods. And refuse the good things in life like hot dogs and marshmallows. And even though you spend way, way too much money on cologne.”

“I got a new one. Because the old one seemed like it had some bad memories attached to it.”

She stepped close, put her nose against his shirt, and inhaled deeply. “Ohhhhh,” she said. “I’m a fan.”

He couldn’t help himself, he dipped his head and kissed her. Her mouth opened on a moan and her hands came up to clutch his head.

He was about to scoop her up and carry her to bed when she asked, “Are you really taking time off?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I want to do something different for a while. Build physical things instead of businesses. There’s nothing wrong with moving money around, if it brings you pleasure. But I don’t do it because it brings me pleasure, I do it because I’m afraid of the alternative. And—that’s not a good reason. What I loved most—when I was happiest—was when I was building things. Fixing things. Making things more beautiful. I stopped because I didn’t believe I could be that man and also be the man Karina needed—”

Auburn was shaking her head. “You know you are already the man I need, right?” she asked. “I don’t care what you do. You can move money or build and fix things. You can live in San Francisco or here. You can wear Armani and Versace or you can shop at Sea Stuff. None of that has any bearing on how I feel about you. Besides,” she said. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

He grinned at that. “No. You definitely don’t.” Then his expression grew serious. “Will you let me, though? Sometimes?”

She smiled. “Of course.” She got up on tiptoes and whispered into his ear, her breath a thrill of sensation against his skin. “You could take care of me right now.”

He growled. Scooped her up. Carried her across the room and deposited her on the bed. Climbed over her, bracing himself up on his arms and lowering his body so he could feel the whole length of hers. The softness of her curves and the heat between her legs—even through her leggings and his shorts.

“God, I missed you.” He took her sweet, hot mouth, loving her taste, the little sounds she made as he swept his tongue in, the way she clutched at his clothing.

He paused only long enough to strip off her clothes, and his, and to find a condom. Then he knelt over her and did what he’d promised—he took care of her—of both of them, his blood rising like the highest of high tides, swelling his veins, his cock, his whole fucking universe. He guided himself to where her body was slick and ready for him. He slid home, watching his own progress on her face, the pink rising in her cheeks, the flare of her pupils, and then, as he pressed deep, the shadow of her lashes as her eyes fell closed and her lips parted.

She was alive and eager under him, bucking under the weight of his hips, meeting every one of his strokes with her own. Her tongue strained against his. She nipped his lower lip and he bit back, which made her cry out and fuck him harder. And at the end they raced each other over the edge, gazes locked. She wouldn’t let him look away. Hecouldn’tlook away. He saw everything in her eyes. He watched the pink flood up her chest, over her throat, and when it reached her face, he watched her mouth fall open in surprise and pleasure. Nothing came out except a whisper. “Oh, fuck, Trey. Oh,fuck.”

Then he lost himself completely in the intensity of his own climax. It was like getting pulled under by the surf, the waves so close together and each more potent than the last, until consciousness drowned in a sea of sensation.

They lay in each other’s arms a long time afterwards. Until it was time to head down onto the beach to watch the sun set over the Pacific.

As dark fell, a few fireworks brightened the purpling sky. Auburn started to laugh.

“What?”

“Well. You may have spoken some bullshit in the course of our negotiations, but you can stand by at least one claim.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Yeah, what’s that?”

“You are good with giving the fireworks.”

“Better than that?” He gestured at the one currently spilling gold shards over the Pacific.

When he turned to look at her, she was smiling, and by the light of the fading sparkles, he could see the heat banked in her gaze.

“Oh, yeah. So much better.”

Epilogue

Three Months Later

The Romance Experience weekend was a blast. In the end, twelve guests met the threshold to win the experience, the four romance writers returned to host them, and almost everything went off without a hitch. The authors decided there should be two “tracks” in the experience weekend, one for guests who saw themselves purely as readers, and one for those who were aspiring writers—and the group split perfectly down the middle. The readers spent hours talking about their favorite books and characters, biking, hiking, and eating, while the writers spent those same hours in workshops—and everyone joined together for afternoon cookies and tea, evening campfires, and, of course, breakfast.

Auburn and Trey stood in the doorway of Beachcrest and waved goodbye to the last of the guests, all declaring they’d be back soon with their friends and families.

“I think that was a success,” he said to her, smiling.

“It was pretty great.”

“I think we should make it a yearly event.”

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