Coming Home to You (The Rockport Beach Series Book 1) (3 page)

She smiles at me. “I’m Miranda,” she
says, reaching out her hand.

I take it in mine and my smile widens as
we shake hands, Miranda’s finger lightly stroking the inside of my wrist. In
that instant, I know I’m getting laid tonight.

Three hours and five pints of Guinness
later, I’m feeling very relaxed and wondering what I can do to get this woman
naked soon. Miranda is on her third glass of white wine and looks as though she’s
drunk enough to be up for it right here in the bar.

“Did you always want to be a detective
when you were growing up?” she asks, her tongue doing another once over of her
full lips.

Her question threatens to reignite
memories I don’t want to be thinking about. Right now, with the sounds of
distant fireworks already ringing out, I need something that’s as far away from
Memorial Day and Rockport and Kelsey as I can get.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” I say,
smiling as I stand and reach out a hand to Miranda.

She takes it and I roughly pull her up,
my other hand going to her hip as she stumbles slightly. “Oh,” she says,
smiling when I don’t let go. “What do you want to talk about then?”

I take a step closer, grateful there’s no
one I know in here tonight. “How about we don’t do any talking at all?”

Miranda smiles as her free hand goes to
my chest, her nails digging in as she takes a step towards me so her tits are
now pressing against me. “That sounds like a good idea, Detective.”

Thirty minutes later and we’re pulling
into the shitty apartment I live in just outside of Dorchester. This couldn’t
be a worse neighborhood to live in and I’m probably going to wind up with
Miranda spending the night because it’s safer than trying to get her home in a
cab. Maybe it will get me a morning after fuck too.

We walk silently up the stairs to my one
bedroom apartment. As I close the door behind me and throw my keys into the
bowl on the counter, Miranda pounces on me, not bothering with small talk
anymore. I find my back pressed against the front door and her tits against my
chest and before I can say a word, her lips are on mine and her tongue is forcing
its way into my mouth.

She tastes like wine and I realize that neither
of us have had dinner and that’s probably why she’s as drunk as she is. I’m not
really concerned with eating right now, at least not the food variety.

I put my hands on her hips and push off
the door, walking her backwards in the direction of my bedroom.

“Detective,” she murmurs, her lips
briefly leaving mine. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

I can’t help but laugh. “I think we’re
way past that point.”

“Mmmm,” she whispers, her fingers sliding
off my suit jacket before moving to the buttons on my shirt.

I’m less considerate of hers; grabbing
the front and ripping it open in one quick move. I hear buttons fly across the
room, but I’m too distracted by her huge tits spilling out from a black lace
bra to even care. I slide my hands around her back and unclasp it, my mouth
immediately sucking on one of her nipples the instant it’s free. Miranda’s head
falls back with a groan and I palm her other tit with my hand, my fingers
twisting and squeezing the nipple.

“Undo my pants,” I mumble, needing to get
this show on the road. Miranda fumbles with the belt and zipper and it occurs
to me that she may be drunk enough that she’s not entirely in control here. But
when she finally gets them down my hips and her hand goes immediately for my
dick, I stop caring. I make quick work of her skirt and panties before I push
her backwards onto the bed, enjoying the bounce of her tits as she lands.

“You like it rough, Detective?” she purrs
as she lays back and opens her legs invitingly.

“I like it hard,” I tell her, reaching for
a condom in the side drawer. “Hard and fast.”

Because this, with her, can be nothing
like it was with Kelsey. Even though at times, it was rough and sometimes even fast,
especially when we needed to sneak in a quickie in one of the empty rooms at
the inn, it was nothing like the meaningless sex this is about to be. Tonight is
nothing more than rough, hard and fast sex that temporarily satisfies. The kind
that gives you a release and leaves you sated for the night, but which deep
down, barely scratches the surface of what you really need.

“Well, hurry up and give it to me then,”
Miranda says, bending her right leg at the knee and exposing her already
glistening pussy to me.

“How about we go back to the no more
talking thing,” I say, as I bend down and bury my face in her pussy and stop
thinking about it all together.

An hour and two fucks later, Miranda is fast
asleep. Curled around me as though we are long-term lovers who’ve done this a
thousands times before. It feels wrong and awkward and I know I’m going to
struggle to sleep with her beside me like this. I’m too exhausted for another
round of fucking and in any case, I’m not sure I could possibly bring myself to
do it. Ever since I started this whole shitfight, I’ve had a near constant
barrage of images both of the victim and of Kelsey’s naked body assault me.
Giving up on sleep entirely, I drag myself out of bed, pull on some sweats and
walk into the living room, pouring myself a large scotch before collapsing on
the couch. Reluctantly, I pull out a photo album, hidden beneath the couch, and
open it on my lap. It’s filled with photos of Kelsey and me, and even though I’ve
spent the last ten years telling myself to let her go, deep down I know that I
never quite do.

That I probably never will.

I feel his mouth on me, the stubble of
his unshaven face rub against my inner thigh and I moan. I’m squirming as he
grips my thighs tightly with his hands, bending my legs at the knees and
spreading them. Warmth builds in my belly and spills out, covering me with the
sensation of being on fire. I stretch out on the bed and open my legs even
wider. I need him to see what he’s doing to me. I’m soaked, dripping with
desire, and craving him.

His tongue caresses the inside of my leg,
but he stops short of exactly where I need him to be. He’s teasing me and the
thought makes me grow even more needy.

“Please,” I beg, lifting my hips off the
bed and forcing myself closer to him.

He laughs, but responds seductively with,
“What, baby?” And flicks his tongue against my clit.

I throw my head back and close my eyes,
my hips leave the bed again as his mouth finally connects exactly where I need
it. His tongue thrusting in and out of me while his thumb presses against my
overly sensitive hard nub.

Writhing and panting as my breathing
becomes labored, I tangle my fingers in his hair, just waiting for the moment
when I finally come undone.

He stops and looks up the length of my
body, his gorgeous blue eyes filled with lust and desire as he runs his tongue
along his bottom lip.

“Kels, baby,” he says, and just the sound
of his voice nearly pushes me over the edge. “I could spend hours tasting you, fucking
you, making you come.”

I gasp at his words and feel my body
begin to tingle, moaning again, this time louder and more desperate.

“I need to come. Make me come, Beck,” I plead.

With a cocky, satisfied smile on his
face, he returns his mouth to my center as his fingers begin fucking me. His
tongue traces lazy circles around my clit making me squirm and become wetter
than I ever thought possible. It’s exactly what I need and I feel my body tense
under his control. I call out as I come hard and fast.

“Beck! Oh my god, Beck!”

I shoot up in bed, the sunlight streaming
through the slats in the blinds, warming the room and making my already hot and
flushed body feel even more heated.

“Holy shit,” I mutter, running my hands
over my face. I can’t believe I just came in my sleep and to make it worse, it
was at the hands of Beck’s mouth. Fuck me, that boy’s mouth is like the eighth
wonder of the world. Even after ten years I can’t get rid of him and judging by
the way I woke up today, do I want to? I can deal with a dream world where Beck
returns and fucks me senseless on a regular basis.

I fall back against the pillows and try
to process exactly what happened. Why have I been dreaming about him and why
does he affect my body in ways no one else ever has?

“Ugh, Bella, this boy is going to be the
death of me.” Bella sits up and wags her tail, giving me that head tilt she
does when I talk to her like a person. “Let’s take a walk,” I say as I hop out
of bed, and this time she races to the front door.

Bella and I hit the beach and my head
begins to clear. The salty sea air and the cool morning breeze calms me, but it’s
only a matter of time before Beck makes his way back into my thoughts.

Finn’s words are still floating around in
my head, along with images of Beck. “He’d be here in a second if he knew you
were in trouble.” Am I in trouble? It’s been a week since Jason showed up at The
Rockport Beach Inn and made a scene, but it’s honestly nothing I can’t handle.
He just caught me off guard, that’s all. And at this point I’m far too self-righteous
to give in and tell Beck I need him. I needed him more than anything ten years
ago and he turned his back on me. I managed that on my own; I surely don’t need
him now.

I slow down and Bella tugs at the leash
bringing me back to the present. I need to move on, get over all of this, and
get Beck out of my head.
He isn’t coming
back
, I tell myself, but it’s like it’s falling on deaf ears. No matter how
many times I say it, there will always be a part of me that longs for him.

Beck was my first love, and to this day
he still holds a piece of my heart. How could he not? I still remember my dad
hiring him to do summer maintenance around the property and I was instantly
taken by his charm and good looks. Not to mention how he made everything in me
tingle when he took his shirt off.

We were just kids and he was a year
older, but that didn’t stop me from getting what I wanted. It was the first
time I had ever felt that connection, that attraction to someone. I wanted Beck,
and all it took was my body and my smart mouth to win him over. After that we
couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

This stroll down memory lane needs to end
or I’m going to find myself back in bed with a vibrator.

I sit down in the sand and Bella sidles
up against me, pressing her hot fur to my bare legs. She’s waiting for me to
unclip her leash so she can play in the water and cool down. I give her a quick
pat on the head as I remove her leash. She waits patiently for her command
before running towards the water and submerging herself chest deep. She spends
her usual amount of time frolicking about before returning to my side, and we
head back home to start our day.

The lobby of The Rockport Beach Inn is
swamped with guests checking in when I finally arrive for the day. It will be
like this until September, which is good. I’m not complaining, but it is
stressful ensuring everything is done to the highest level of satisfaction. No
one loves this place like I do, so some days I feel like I’m the only one who’s
really putting in the effort it needs to be great. Some might call me
demanding, but in a small tourist town where your livelihood depends on the
success of your small business, there is no room for error.

It only takes ten minutes before the inn
is in full swing. Taking requests for extra towels, subduing complaints about
ants in room twelve, booking fishing charters, making reservations for dinner
given there’s always more tourists than there are tables in this small town. It
keeps me busy and makes me forget my, oh so sweaty morning with imaginary Beck
in my bed.

That is until Erin comes storming in with
that look on her face. The one that says she’s pissed and it’s my fault. I had
completely forgotten I sent her a text telling her I had a sex dream about
Beck.

“Who sends their best friend a text like
that and then doesn’t respond?” she accuses, as she flops down in her favorite
chair. It’s an atrocious wingback that is covered in birds and flowers that she
just wouldn’t let me get rid of. I had The Rockport Beach Inn remodeled after
my dad passed away to give it a more modern feel, but Erin just wouldn’t let me
get rid of the chair. Her rationale was that it had sentimental value because
it was the first place she ever got felt up by a boy. All the more reason to
toss that thing.

“I got busy. Sorry,” I answer back as I
shuffle through a stack of invoices trying to figure out who ordered the
braided fishing line as opposed to the fluorocarbon for The Rockport Beach Inn
Charters. This is the kind of shit that tourists complain about and that my
charter captains bring back to me.

“You’re ignoring me,” she says in a
singsong voice.

“No, no. No I’m not, I’m just…”

“Busy,” she says, finishing my sentence.

“Yeah, so take a hint, missy. Some of us
have to work around here.” I glare at her and she laughs.

“Dinner tonight?” Erin asks, as she jumps
up from the chair and heads out the door.

“Yep,” I respond, still distracted, but
now I’m trying to balance my jumbled thoughts of fishing line and Beck.

She stops in the doorway and smirks at
me. “There are some guys heading out on a charter boat in few. I think one of
them needs little help with their rod.” I shake my head at her dirty minded
joke, but she continues. “Kelsey, why don’t you go down there and help him out?
It just needs a little tug.”

“Erin!”

“What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “You
wouldn’t want one of your guests to be upset with your service. Go service
him.”

“Go!” I shout and she trots down the
steps as she blows me a kiss.