Page 66 of Champagne Fizz

“That so?” I ask, trying to hide my smile.

“Oh yeah,” he nods. “She’s impossible. I mean, truth be told she’s totally got me wrapped around her little finger. You wouldn’t believe the things she’s asking me to do.”

“That’s not for the wedding!” I hiss.

“Oh, and she’s so damn sexy,” he continues. “I can’t stop thinking about her in all the wrong ways, you know?”

“No,” I say sharply. “I don’t know.”

“Hmmmm.” He gives me a lopsided smile. “Well, you’ll have to eat your breakfast and go for a ride with me if you want more details on what that means.”

I shake my head at him as the waiter steps in and drops off two extra-large mimosas, then walks away again. I swipe them both and pour them in the sand.

“None of these, if you’re going to drive,” I say, the flutter in my belly turning into a butterfly grenade.

“Smart,” he says, focusing on his omelet, before he gives me a sideways smile. “Plus, I want you to feel everything.”

Oh my.

17

SIMON

Kendall fidgets as I pull off the main throughway and head up a dirt road into the jungle. We’ve talked about everything and anything but the elephant in the room. Our scatterbrain conversation has bounced from baseball, to the life cycle of orchids, to how Sue Blade got her start in podcasting.

But my mind is on one thing.

How can I reasonably be thinking about anything else?

I’m a nice guy, but I’m also a guy. I’m still hardwired to drop everything in the presence of a beautiful woman who asks me to take her virginity.

Seriously, I can’t believe I’m driving straight.

Of course, we’re going to take this slow. No pina colada action is happening this afternoon. I want her to be comfortable—with me, and with her own body. Agreeing to take someone’s virginity isn’t casual sex. What it really is, I don’t know, but I want it to be something she wants to have, something she isn’t afraid of. I don’t want sex to be something she has to spend her life running away from.

Kendall deserves more.

More than a lifetime of being alone and thinking her body is the problem.

Sure, I’m not going to discount the fact that I’m a dude. I’m biologically programmed to sit up straight and pant like a dog when a hot virgin bats her lashes at me and says,I need you to teach me how to fuck.Of course, she didn’t say it like that—not in those words—but that’s what my cock heard. I don’t expect points for chivalry. I’m still the normal horny dick who can’t believe he gets to participate.

But I do want sex to be enjoyable for Kendall. I want her to like it and to trust herself. I know saying yes to this is selfish, but maybe I can at least give her a little more confidence.

Plus, there’s no way I’m letting any other asshole near her.

Kendall sits in the passenger seat staring out the open window. The Hawaiian breeze is whipping through her curly hair and she looks calm, even though I know she’s not. She’s beautiful, with those amazing lips, and that soft skin, and her sensitive, responsive …

Damn.

I don’t know what asshole made her think orgasming easily wasn’t the hottest thing imaginable, cause it’s definitely going to give me an inflated ego.

I pull off the road and turn into a secluded grove of wilderness. We’re surrounded by giant palm leaves and orange bird-of-paradise flowers. Both of our windows are open and the air smells wet and humid. The trees around us are dense enough that the sun can’t reach through, and the thick woody smell has a lushness to it, not exactly romantic, but definitely softer and more intimate than the searing hot sand of the beach.

I put my car into park and set the emergency break.

“Back seat,” I announce, deciding to skip the small talk as I open my door and get out.

“W-what?” Kendall’s porcelain skin flushes pink. It’s like her arms and legs never get sun, making her look even more innocent.

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