Page 16 of Hotshot Mogul

A white dove swooped, then landed on the highest sand dune. Bruce stood stiff. “You loved him.”

“Yes, I did. I didn’t handle his passing well. Callie said there’s a name for it, prolonged grief.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Did you get the help you needed?”

I stepped toward him. He was damp with sweat. So was I. I pressed my cheek into his collar bone. He smelled like sunshine, wind, and a healthy man. My nerves calmed. I felt safe in his arms. He rubbed circles on my back and shoulders. I moved closer and felt his arousal. I wanted to rub my throbbing sex against him.

I slipped my hand into his shorts and took hold of him, unable to resist. His breath quickened. “Anneliese, I’ll lose my mind if I don’t have a taste, just a taste…”

He moved us behind his Jeep and lifted me. I held onto his neck. He kissed a spot behind my ear. I melted into him. He pressed kisses on my nape. His touch made me wild. I wrapped my legs around his waist, dropped my mouth to the spot where his neck joined his shoulder and bit down.

He captured my face and kissed me, tenderly at first. When I traced the seam of his lips with my tongue, his mouth hardened. His tongue dueled with mine, mimicking how I wanted him to move inside of me.

His erection grew harder. He slid his hand under my shirt to my breast, then lifted his mouth so his lips rested just above mine. “I knew your perfect little tits would fit into my hands, like you were made for me.”

He played with my nipple, moved his hand under my shorts to my sex and shuddered. “You’re wet for me. I fucking love that.” He hooked one finger inside me and his thumb on my pearl of nerves. Tingles danced up my spine. My muscles contracted—hard. Pleasure exploded. I cried out. He covered my mouth with his. He tasted like wine and butter tarts. He pulled his hand away and thrusted his finger into his mouth and sucked. “You taste like heaven.”

This man. I caressed his hard length, rubbing his wetness up and down. I started to drop to my knees when a Jeep like Bruce’s stopped close. “Son of a bitch,” Bruce hissed. He shielded me while he adjusted himself.

As I stepped away from him, a man, woman and child got out of the other Jeep.

“We need to get you a bathing suit,” Bruce said. We got inside the Jeep and drove to Barney’s Beach Haus. A kind young woman helped me to find what would fit what she called my petite curves. It was two pieces. My middle would be bare.

There was something she called a coverup that I could wear over that. I also bought lotion for skin to protect it from the sun, floppy things for my feet and two fluffy towels. Bruce stared at his cell phone until it was time for me to pay. He bent close so his mouth was close to my ear. “Let me pay. Save your cash. You might need it. And they may not take it. I invited you, after all.”

I considered this. I did not have any way to replenish the money once it was gone. He moved his hand to my hip, in the briefest caress. I moved closer to him, as if it was natural to fit our bodies together. “Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

He held his phone over a small machine, then pressed his thumb on a small pad. “All set,” the woman said. She picked up my stuff. “I’ll help you take these tags off if you want to wear them out. You can change in the dressing room.”

I followed her back to the little room with curtains. She cut the tags off my stuff and handed them to me. “Listen, hon,” she pitched her voice low. “You seem super sweet. And I don’t think you know that Bruce is a player. We call him ‘one-and-done Clynes.’”

Deer piss. I was certain there were meanings that I didn’t understand. While she stood outside the curtain, I peeled off my shorts and shirt and pulled on the two pieces. “I’m learning English.” I pitched my tone low, too. “I’m not familiar with these expressions.”

“Are you dressed?” she asked.

I yanked the coverup over my head. “Yes.”

She stepped inside. “He fucks lots of women. Not me, but he hooks up with my friend Beth every time he’s in town. That’s unusual for him. He usually does the one-and-done thing. He breaks hearts. He’s handsome as sin with that dark hair and those blue eyes. And he’s ripped. So, plenty of women are just fine with that. Everybody, even Beth, hopes they’ll be the one that changes him. But it hasn’t happened yet.”

I knew what fucks meant. And now I was pretty sure about one-and-done. “Right. Gotcha.”

She put my shorts and shirt into a bag. “Beth found him online. Some woman named Diana had posted that she was engaged to him. The post was from six years ago, though. Don’t know if they ever got married or what, but he’s definitely a player.”

She squeezed my arm and left. I sat down on the narrow bench to put the floppy things on my feet. My thoughts swirled. My heart hurt.

Why, though? I was only there for three more days. So, women clamored for Bruce. I would not care. As Isolde and Grenmann stressed repeatedly, he was a means to an end, nothing more. It didn’t matter that I craved him, or that I came alive when he kissed me.

What end did that come to when we walked the earth before? I ended up just a body with a shredded soul and dead heart. Enough. For now, I only wanted to feel the waves against my skin.

CHAPTER SIX

Bruce

Anneliese was different, more guarded, since returning from the changing room. She avoided my touch as we left the store. I was certain I hadn’t slept with—well, fucked—the salesclerk. Since Diana, I hadn’t spent the whole night in any woman’s bed. But I have fucked plenty of women around here. Maybe the salesclerk told Anneliese that.

Anneliese left her gigantic purse, petitions, and cash locked up and hidden inside the Jeep. Presently, she walked along the beach looking for shells. It was surprisingly empty that day. She lifted her face to the sun.

I didn’t want her to burn her fair skin. I grabbed her waterproof sunblock. “You should put this on your skin, all over, so you don’t burn.”

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