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“Yeah?” I finish drying off and reach for my cover-up.
“Trust me. I know what you like,” he says, in a voice that makes me sizzle all over again.
“You do,” I say, in a voice that I hope makes him burn up too.
He flashes a heated gaze my way, and yep, that “to-don’t” list can wait.
18
JESSE
Her lips part.
Her lashes flutter.
And she moans, “Oh my God. So good.” Her lips close around the perfectly roasted marshmallow I slip into her mouth, triggering a vivid mental flashback to this morning, when she took my cock in her mouth with similar relish.
I want to bite her bare neck, slip my hand under that filmy cover-up that does nothing to hide her curves and get her off while the waves crash onto the shore.
She deserves an orgasm or five after the dragon she slayed today.
And maybe I’ll get to give her one, sooner rather than later . . .
After the last of the sunset light fades and the darkness closes in, no one’s going to be able to see what my hands are up to.
We’re at one of Lost Summer Brewery’s beachside firepits. There are eight of them in total, but they’re all several yards apart, granting a certain degree of privacy, and our closest neighbors are a couple nearly as into each other as we are. They’ve barely come up for air since they sat down.
Though I’m sure to anyone looking on, Ruby and I seem like a couple too.
We can’t keep our hands off each other, and by the time our server delivers our second pint of Kona Ale—a coffee-flavored dark beer that is fucking delicious with roasted marshmallows—Ruby is in my lap, sprawled across me in the big Adirondack chair.
“Beautiful,” she murmurs, gazing out across the darkening water. “I wish we could stay here. Just . . . camp out on the beach and wake up in the morning to the sound of the waves.”
“I thought you hated camping?” I challenge her.
“Not romantic camping on the beach,” she counters. “That might be nice. Not Four Seasons nice, but nice.”
“No camping around here that I know of, but there’s a place on Governor’s Island. You can rent a tent and sleep across the water from the Statue of Liberty.”
“Really? That’s so cool.” Ruby snuggles closer to my chest with a yawn. “Maybe we should add camping to the ‘something new’ list, after all.”
My head rears back. “What? You’ve really never been?”
“No, never.”
“But I thought you went to Camp Knick Knack Paddywhack with Claire when you were kids. The one my mom’s friend owns upstate? Claire went every summer. Sometimes twice.”
“My mom wouldn’t let me,” Ruby says, reaching for her beer on the small table next to our shared chair. “She and Dad are terrified of heavily wooded areas. They watched too many camp-themed horror movies in the eighties. And they’ve lived in the city their entire lives. That many trees all together seems . . . unnatural to them or something.”
I snort. “Trees? They’re literally the most natural thing there is.”
She swallows her sip and laughs. “Right?” She shakes her head and sets down her beer on the table between our chairs. “But you know how they are. Once they get their minds set on something, there’s no changing it. So, my dream of spending summer at camp with my bestie went unfulfilled.” She freezes for a moment before turning back to me with a wide-eyed look.
That matches mine.
It’s instant, this awareness.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask, my brain already three steps ahead, nailing down how we make this happen.
“Number three on the list—the old dream coming true,” she says with a wistful sigh. “But we can’t. I’m too old to go to camp.”
“Screw that. You’re never too old to go to camp.” I lean over the wooden arm of the chair, digging into my beach bag for my cell.
Ruby laughs. “I’m pretty sure that’s not true. I don’t think a bunch of pre-teen girls would appreciate a woman in her twenties crashing their week-long slumber party. I don’t even know what boy bands or video games are cool these days. I’m totally out of touch.”
“We’re not going to camp with the kids; we’ll camp on the other side of the lake. There’s another camping area. Trust me, I know that place inside and out. My mom and Rachel are tight.” I scroll through my phone until I find Mom’s number and tap it, continuing to talk as I lift my cell to my ear. “Rachel has a few cabins on the other side for old folks like you and me. It’s not super fancy, but—”
I break off as Mom answers the phone. “Hey, Mom, I’m here with Ruby, and we’ve got a brilliant idea.”
“Oh, good! I love brilliant ideas. And Ruby. Tell her hello for me,” Mom says warmly before adding, “Dad says hi to you, by the way. He wants to go throw axes with you at that lumberjack bar before you leave. He’s been practicing and is positive he’ll beat you this time.”
