AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She let out a shrieking laugh as they ran toward the water, the waves splashing around her legs. She looked over at him, and almost forgot to breathe. He was laughing, too, letting out a little yelp as the water rose up to his package. God, he was so gorgeous, so happy. She just wanted this moment, forever.
They kept going until the water was up to their shoulders. The ocean felt much colder at night, in the dark, and she floated toward him, seeking out the warmth of his body. The cool water swirled around her, between her legs, reminding her of how naked she was, and she let out a little shiver. It felt good, as though she were both exposed, but completely safe.
Dean splashed her as she swam closer, and laughing, she splashed him back before slipping her legs around his hips. His body was warm, solid and strong, and felt so good against hers. A fire simmered low in her belly and between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he ran his hands up and down the backs of her legs, from her ass to the ticklish spot behind her knees.
Leaning forward, she kissed his neck, tasting the ocean’s salt on his skin. Everything was so quiet around them, so dark, that it felt as though they were the only people on the planet.
He grazed her cheek with his nose, and then kissed her, a long, sweet, lingering kiss that made her nerve endings stretch and unfurl, wanting more.
“You look so pretty in the moonlight,” he said, kissing her throat as they floated together. “And you feel so good. God. All I can think about is being inside you again.” He moaned quietly as he kissed and sucked at the skin of her neck. He kissed his way back up to her mouth, and then pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m glad I’m here with you,” he whispered.
Her heart flipped over on itself, and in that moment, she knew. She was falling for Dean Grayson, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it.
“Me too,” she said, not trusting herself to say anything more.
She wasn’t sure how long they floated together, kissing and touching and teasing. Stroking and tasting. Whispering and laughing and splashing. By the time they swam for the shore, her fingers were wrinkled, shriveled like prunes. They dashed toward their clothes, sand sticking to their feet and legs.
Dean picked up his shirt and pants, laughing softly. “I . . . did not think this through.”
She laughed too, fighting to get back into her dress as it clung to her wet skin. “Yeah, well, it’s better than flashing the whole resort and having to go to Mexican jail for indecent exposure.”
With his pants and shirt back on, he took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go back to the room so we can get out of these wet clothes.”
“And then what do you want to do? Watch cartoons?” she joked.
He let out a chuckle. “No. But I do have a move called the ‘Road Runner’ I’m dying to show you.” His eyebrows bounced, and she laughed again.
As they crossed the bridge over the mangroves, a resort security golf cart drove across the sand behind them, lights shining in the darkness. They both stifled a laugh and started walking a bit faster.
“Cheese it! It’s the fuzz,” she said, putting on an old-timey voice.
“Then we best not lollygag, see,” he said, imitating the voice back to her. It was something they did at the bar, goofing off and joking around. It felt so good to laugh with him, here, now, as though maybe things wouldn’t be different when they got home.
Laughing, they ran back to their room, and without any lollygagging whatsoever, Carly was on her knees in front of Dean, his cock hard against her lips, warm and smooth against her tongue, as she showed him how good she could make him feel.
Chapter 8
White gauze fluttered against the gazebo as the sun sank low on the horizon, coloring the underbellies of the few clouds a vibrant pink. A white runner, strewn with red rose petals, led from the bridge emerging onto the beach and up to the gazebo. A warm breeze blew, stirring the rose petals and kicking up their scent. Hurricane lanterns filled with candles sat in every corner, and heavy clumps of white tropical flowers ran along the sides of the gazebo.
Luke stood at the front in a dark blue suit, Matt and Ethan beside him. As the bridesmaids made their way down the aisle, Carly slipped her hand into Dean’s. When he turned to look at her, he was surprised to see the emotion written all over her face, plain as day. Something clenched, right in the center of his chest, at how openly happy she was for Luke and Christie, despite the fact that she barely knew them. She was touched, and it made him want to pull her into his arms, just so he could pull some of that sweetness into himself. Because damn, that sweetness felt good.
Too good.
The music changed, everyone stood, and Christie appeared, looking beautiful and radiant as she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. She smiled, practically glowing at Luke as she walked toward him. With her lacy white dress shimmering in the fading sunlight, her blond hair falling around her shoulders in soft curls, she looked almost angelic. But it was Luke who’d stolen Dean’s attention, because he’d never seen an expression of such open love and devotion on a man’s face before. As though Luke would lay down his life for her, and die happy for it. As though she was his entire world, his entire reason for existing.
So much vulnerability. So much potential for pain. So much risk. To love someone the way Luke clearly loved Christie meant letting yourself get swallowed up in it. Honestly, it was so fucking terrifying, Dean had no idea how people did it. How could you trust that person not to hurt you? How could you trust yourself not to hurt someone you loved so much?
How? He wanted to understand, but it was as though love—the kind that Luke and Christie shared, the real, forever kind—was a foreign language, the entire concept leaving him lost and clueless.
But you can learn a new language, said a tiny voice inside him as Luke and Christie exchanged their vows. If you want to. If you try.
Carly sniffled beside him, wiping at a tear.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, giving her hand a squeeze. “Why are you crying?”
She shrugged and wiped at her eyes. “It’s silly.”
“Tell me anyway.”
