Aloha, page 76
Theo proposed.
He wants to marry me.
We’re going to get married.
I don’t even remember the drive back to the hotel, that’s how euphoric I feel.
My happiness bubbles over into my kiss, and I twist so that Theo is pressed against the elevator wall, my front plastered to his. I lift up onto my toes and try to rub against the hard ridge taunting me. His responding growl sends a shiver down my spine, and my panties flood when he grasps my hips, spins me around, and switches our positions so he’s dominating me, not the other way around. He grinds into me, and it feels like a fever is burning me up from the inside out. The only way I’ll feel better in my own skin is if I shatter and am put back together again.
He pulls away from me, and I’m about to cry out for more when he surprises me by dipping down and lifting me by my thighs so my pelvis presses against his.
Well, hello.
I get one firm grind that’s pleasurable enough to make my eyelids flutter when the elevator dings, signaling that we’ve reached our floor. Theo turns, and if seeing an older couple waiting to go down to the lobby flusters him, he doesn’t let on. I smile and wave at them as we pass, but I miss their reaction because every step he takes bumps his dick against my aching pussy. We’re in the room farthest down the hall, and every step is pleasure-induced torture.
I start to wriggle in his arms, but he keeps me in place with a firm grip and a light chuckle.
“Almost there, baby. Nerdgasm number one, coming up shortly.”
The seconds tick by, and once we reach our door, he reaches into his pocket for his phone so he can access our digital-room key. Moments later, we’re inside, and I’m pressed against the back of the door as if no time passed from the elevator to now.
“Theo,” I whine. In another life, I might be embarrassed about the needy sounds coming out of my mouth, but all I can think of is the relief I know is waiting for me.
“I know, baby.”
He drops down to his knees so my feet can find purchase on the floor, and before I have the chance to protest, his head is underneath my sundress. The rough pads of his fingers trail up my thighs, and wetness saturates my swimsuit bottoms further when he grabs my ass and presses a kiss against my clit through the slick fabric. His moan is like an adrenaline shot to my system.
“Coconuts and sunshine,” he groans roughly.
As much as I want to come, I want him to feel good too.
“Let me go down on you.”
Cool air kisses my core when his fingers peel the fabric to the side.
“After.” It comes out more like a grunt before he pops his head back out. “Hold the fabric up, baby. I need to do this. The last time I went down on you was to distract my girlfriend. This time, it’s to worship my f-future w-wife.”
Emotion grips me at his words, and I barely follow his instruction before his mouth is eating at me like he’s been starved for my taste. Oh, God. The long strokes of his tongue tighten into tight circles around my clit, and the trembling of my legs when he sucks it between his lips makes it difficult to stay upright. I’m not going to last, and that is proven with stunning clarity when Theo inserts two long fingers inside me and presses against the spot only he has ever been able to find.
I detonate and scream as my orgasm rips through me, and he continues to lap gently and hold me up until my limbs are as soft as Jello.
It’s almost criminal how good he’s become at playing my body. I’ve never been with anyone more eager to please or willing to learn what makes me tick. Thank God I’m marrying him; I’m going to be the happiest wife ever on all fronts, emotional and physical.
“Okay, my turn, hot stuff,” I pant.
My brain can’t believe that the same man who beams up at me with the sweetest smile is the same one who short-circuited my brain. I don’t know how he does it, but for how naughty he’s learned to be, he still manages to look innocent.
As if he can read my thoughts, he smirks. “That’s one.”
A gentle hand presses against my lower back and presses me over his shoulder. Once he ensures I’m secure, he stands and carries me to the bed so he can plop me down. I quickly swat my hair out of the way so I can watch him unveil the body that reaps the benefits of all his swimming.
My mouth dries, and any moisture left in my body moves south when he slowly removes his shirt and shucks his swim trunks.
Stretches of sun-bronzed skin and lean, trim muscle greet me, and I track each cut edge and delicious divot down to his cock. I scoot closer to him so I can grasp his long, thick length, and his little inhale of breath makes me smile. When I lick up and around his head and twist my fist just the way he likes, his full-body shudder makes me moan.
He may be accustomed to my touch and all the ways we make each other feel good, but he never takes it for granted. Each touch is treated like his first introduction to pleasure, and he always meets me with wonder, gratitude, and boundless enthusiasm. The main difference, however, is his stamina.
I lose count of the nerdgasms we give each other, and it isn’t until pale-pink light crests the horizon and disrupts the darkness that we give in to the fatigue.
In moments like this, when I’m wrapped in his arms, I’m extra grateful to have a partner who checks every box, even the ones I didn’t know I had. Our baecation turned into the beginning of our forever, and I look forward to every first, last, and everything in between with my naughty nerd by side.
Epilogue
Professor Cohen Wilder
“Theo, I have a question for you when you have a spare moment.”
I remove my glasses, place them on my desk next to the stack of abysmal papers I’ve been reading for the past hour, and rub my temples. I swear, most of my students can’t string together a coherent sentence let alone an original thought.
“I have a moment now. What do you need?”
What I need are more students like him: sincere, intelligent, hardworking, and studious. I’m not ignorant; I know why many undergraduate students sign up for my courses, but it doesn’t mean I can’t die a little inside. However, that’s not what I want to talk to him about.
“I’ve been asked to lead a short-term study abroad program this summer. It was very last minute, but the professor they had lined up had a family emergency come up, so they needed a flexible replacement.”
His eyebrows lift in surprise. “That could be fun or an absolute disaster. When and where will you be going?”
I smile. These details are the silver lining to the dean’s request.
“The first summer session, so almost three weeks . . . in Greece.”
His jaw drops. He’s almost as passionate about mythology as I am, which is one reason we get along so well. Needless to say, this destination is a dream.
“There’s no way that could be an absolute disaster. It’s Greece! It’ll be amazing.”
My smile widens as I go in for the kill. “I know. The location alone silenced my initial reservations. Would you like to go with me? I’m allowed to bring a TA. I could use your help, especially since the program will be brief but rigorous.”
“I would l-love to,” he says. I feel triumphant for two seconds before he adds, “But I can’t. I’m so s-sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize. Is there a reason why you can’t? The university will, of course, cover your expenses and will continue to provide your stipend. We can make sure they adjust it appropriately to account for costs there.”
“Th-that’s not it.” He gulps, and when I raise an eyebrow as a signal for him to continue, he explains. “I already committed to spending that time with Addy’s f-family at their s-summer house. We’ve both been so b-busy that it seemed like the perfect time for us to bond, especially now that we’re en-engaged.”
Ah, of course. I’m disappointed on my own behalf, but I get it.
“No worries. I hope you have fun with her family. I wish you could go, but I understand why you can’t. Mutual appreciation for the destination aside, I’ll be hard-pressed to find a trustworthy, competent TA in such a short turnaround. If you know anyone who may suit my needs, please send them my way.”
I wasn’t expecting him to recommend someone right this moment, so his swift reply surprises me.
“Actually, I think I do. I happen to know they’re available, and they’re smart, organized, and reliable. I just need to see if they’d be interested.”
“I’m listening.”
Theo leans forward in his seat. “You know Demi, my best friend?” His brow furrows, and he looks contemplative. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think you’ve met, but I know you’ve at least seen her with me. If she’s willing and able to go, she fits what you’re looking for. Of course, her dad would need to sign off on it, but he works here too, so I don’t see why he’d have a problem since it’s for school.”
I keep my face impassive, but there’s a sinking feeling deep in my gut.
Yes, I’ve seen his best friend. There’s no way I can’t see the curvy little temptress whenever she’s in my line of sight, can’t feel her presence like a siren’s call.
My reaction to her is baffling. Until she showed up in my class one day to pick up Theo, students never interested me sexually or romantically. She’s been a long-term thorn in my side without even knowing it, and of-fucking-course her father would also be a colleague of some sort.
If she TAs for me, it’s a tangled, disastrous wreck waiting to happen. I should say no, absolutely not. I’ll take anyone else, or I’ll go alone.
Instead, I seal my fate.
“Send her my way.”
I’ve been told that my hubris would be my downfall one day, but I have a feeling it’ll be her.
Read Nerdgasm today for Theo and Addy’s love story. Connect with Kimberly to get updates on upcoming books and exclusive sneak peeks.
Reunited
an AFTER CARE reunion
L.B. Dunbar
Reunited
Five years.
For five years we’ve been coming to this beautiful Hawaiian island to regroup and celebrate.
The good news about my remission from breast cancer.
The reminder of our first meeting.
The anniversary of our wedding.
As I sit on the edge of the pool, I smile at the three children playing in the water. Their father isn’t far away, watching his brood who are now ten, eight, and four. Gage Everly is a lucky man. One of his greatest fortunes, though, is the woman sitting beside me.
“Granger! Don’t splash your sister,” Ivy calls out, scowling at her four-year-old son. The blonde happens to be my niece through marriage, but she’s also become one of my best friends despite an age difference that numbers in decades, not years. She’s like a second daughter to me and I know I’ve been a second mother to her. She lost hers to an awful disease.
Fortunately, for me, I’d been able to beat cancer. Five years free.
When I first met Ivy, I was sitting on this very pool’s edge, self-consciously fiddling with a scarf on my head, covering the fuzz growing in but not fully restored. My hair never was the same after chemotherapy. I keep it short now, and the blonde streaks blend with the sudden onset of white. My hair is also curlier than it was before.
Before Tommy.
Glancing up from my position, where I dangle my feet in the pool and softly kick my legs back and forth in the cool water, I find him across the pool deck.
Tommy. Not Tom. Not Thomas. Not even his stage name of Lawson Colt. Just Tommy.
My Tommy.
A man now in his fifties but as fit as any young stud. His barrel chest is still solid. Said chest is covered in a blend of black and white curls. A jaw bristling with the same combination of ink and silver. A tempting trail leads down his abs to his waistband. Firm legs hold up his tall form. And dark aviator glasses cover deep brown eyes.
He’s more casually dressed in a brightly-colored bathing suit than when I first met him poolside five years ago, but he’s no less intense.
Because despite those reflective lenses covering his eyes, I know he’s focused on me, and a shiver ripples up my spine.
The good kind of quiver that makes you warm in private places and sets your heart fluttering. When you know your man is watching you, wanting you. And Tommy Carrigan loves me.
I fight a smile, chew the corner of my lip, and tear my glance away to take in the kids splashing in the pool.
“Think he’ll ever relax, Edie?” Ivy asks me about her uncle.
I gaze back at Tommy and softly chuckle. “Someday. Maybe.”
Although we return to this resort every winter-holiday season—because a tradition had been set before I’d met any of them—Tommy is always on high alert around the pool.
When you manage a famous rock band, who want to spend family time with their wives and kids, being in such a public place like the resort pool puts Tommy on edge.
When I met him, one of the first things he said to me was to move away from his niece when I had no idea who she was or who she was married to.
I didn’t know Gage Everly was someone I should know. Or that Collision was one of the hottest bands.
Now, the boys—despite being men in their late thirties—are family. And everyone has gathered for the next two weeks.
Gage and Ivy with Ava, Emmaline, and Granger.
Jared and Lexi.
West.
Petty.
“Hello, beautiful.” Thinking of the devil, Petty collapses beside me and bumps my shoulder with his. The curly haired blond is still a giant child, and he knows it pisses off Tommy when he flirts with me.
Being that Tommy’s on the other side of the pool, we’re safe from scrutiny for the moment.
“Hey yourself, troublemaker,” I tease. Petty is the last man standing in the band when it comes to love. “I’m surprised to see you so early.”
“It’s almost noon,” he says, holding up his wrist as if he wears a watch. He doesn’t. He’s dressed in orange board shorts and nothing else, and looks freshly rolled-out-of-bed.
“That’s early for you,” Ivy jokes from the other side of me.
Petty squints at the chaos in the pool. “Well, we don’t all have little munchkins to wake us at the crack of dawn.”
Ivy playfully huffs, agreeing with him. Her kids are early risers. We’ve been at the pool for hours already.
“Uh-oh. Here comes the big bad wolf,” Petty mutters, before slipping into the pool and swimming to the center, joining Gage with his children.
“He did that on purpose,” Ivy says.
“Uh-huh,” I agree.
Petty’s trying to dodge Tommy who is now stalking around the pool toward us. The band manager can be a grumpy bear when it comes to his crew, especially when they overindulge and miss band practice. Petty can be the worst culprit.
“Darlin’,” he addresses me as he nears.
“Tommy,” I reply mimicking his Southern drawl and the edge in his tone.
“Come have a seat, Uncle Tommy,” Ivy suggests, patting the space beside her but knowing he’ll pass her and sit beside me.
He does. Extra close. Like his thigh is touching mine. We’re shoulder to shoulder, and he hooks one of his feet underneath my leg dangling in the water.
“He’s avoiding me, isn’t he?” Tommy states, eyeing Collision’s drummer spinning skinny Granger around in the water. “He hit on you?”
“He’s always a flirt,” I remind him.
“He’s such a punk,” Tommy mutters, but he doesn’t mean it. Each of the boys has had their issues over the years. Tommy’s been there for every one of their sticky situations, because he loves each of these men like they are his sons. Especially Petty. His restless nature reminds Tommy of himself.
Then again, each of the band members has a spark that mirrors their manager.
Gage and his silent, broody personae, but also a deep love for his wife and children.
Jared and his book smart, all business sense about the band.
West, who was newish to the band when I met them, and eager to just play music.
And Petty, who has had his share of hardships and heartbreak but disguises it all with a joke and flirtation.
“He’s innocent,” I state.
Tommy snorts in disagreement. I bump his shoulder with mine and he turns his head, giving me a soft smile.
“You’re too sweet on him, darlin’.”
“Only have eyes for you, honey.” The endearment does the trick. Tommy visibly relaxes beside me. Shoulders lowering a little. Arms going back to support him. Foot curling tighter around my leg and rubbing downward. He leans sideways to kiss my shoulder before settling back into his easier position.
“You’ve got to let them have a little fun. This is a vacation.” Tommy doesn’t really need the reminder. He’s just tense for the first few days we are here, until he finds his relaxation groove.
“Speaking of vacation . . .” Tommy nods toward something and I follow his gaze, noticing Masie, West and Caleb finally arriving at the pool.
My smile grows and I lift an arm to exaggerate a wave for their attention.
Caleb and Masie are also family. As in, my adult children.
Caleb is practically announcing his arrival. “Is that Ava Bear and Emmaline Jelly Belly in the pool?” He doesn’t wait for answers but does a little skip before tucking his legs, and dropping into the refreshing water, exploding a giant splash at Gage and his kids.
My twenty-seven-year-old son loves to rile up the girls, especially Ava who is on the cusp of adolescence and sometimes agitated by the nickname Caleb has given her. As a minor league baseball player, he’s finally been called up to the pros and he’s thrilled to be starting with the Chicago Anchors next spring.
My daughter Masie graduated college last spring and has decided to go to medical school to be a midwife. She originally went to college to be an oncology nurse after all she’d lived through during my three years with the disease while she was still in high school. After a rotation with infants, though, she fell in love with the idea of helping bring babies into the world. A happier profession than oncology, in my opinion.
