UNLoved: a bay falls high novel, page 16
“No. I’m going to fix it.”
“Fix what?”
Pres touched my chin and brought his lips down to mine. With one soft kiss he stole my breath away.
“This is my beach,” he whispered. “And as long as I invite you to join me, you’re not breaking the law.”
“This is yours?”
“Yup.”
“And what’s the catch?”
“There is no catch, sugar.”
“That’s a lie,” I said. “There’s always a catch. You don’t need to be rich to know that.”
“Fine. You’re going to do what I say.”
“How cliché.”
“It works.”
“So I’ll ask you the same thing I asked Barr and Kip… is this your routine? You grab a girl, scare her half to death on your motorcycle, then bring her to your private beach?”
“Why do you worry about that shit?”
“Answer me.”
“You answer me. You’re always worried about the surroundings. What’s the difference if I brought a hundred girls up here or just one? You’re the one here now.”
I hated that he was right.
I hated that he could get to me and get through me.
“Whatever,” I said. “Show me what you’ve got then.”
Pres smiled. He stole another kiss. “Someday you’re going to regret saying that to me, sugar.”
“That?” I asked Pres.
He handed me another helmet. “Yours.”
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Ride it,” he said.
“No.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’m taking mine out. It’s really fun.”
There were two black four-wheelers just sitting there on the beach.
To me Pres had this entire thing all planned out and already set up.
Duh, Ti…
“I’ll show you what to do,” Pres said. “You start it. Then kill the brake here…” Pres pointed. “Then shift. Everything is automatic on it. And then press the throttle. Just be careful there so you don’t get too much at once.”
“Pres…”
“I’ll see you around, sugar,” he said.
He put a helmet on and jumped on his four-wheeler. And in one smooth motion, he started the thing and took off. Kicking up sand at me as he turned left to right, leaving a trail in the sand.
I knew he wasn’t going to stop either.
This was Pres.
“Shit,” I whispered to myself.
I hurried to put the helmet on my head and repeated everything Pres said to do.
And it worked.
I had the four-wheeler started and was slowly creeping forward on the beach.
It took me a few seconds to gauge the throttle but I was doing it. I was riding a four-wheeler on the beach.
And damn if it didn’t make me smile.
The faster I went, the freer I felt.
I sped up to a point where my heart was racing really fast.
And I was able to catch up to Pres as he was waiting for me way down near the water.
We rode the four-wheelers side by side in the wet sand.
I darted forward and made him chase me down.
I cut into the dry sand and really hit the throttle, challenging myself.
It was probably one of the most fun times I could ever remember.
Eventually Pres had to cut me off and he yelled over the engines.
“Follow me,” he said. “Trust me.”
He took off again and I was right on his tail.
Pres was so big… not just in muscle and strength either. But the way he acted, dressed, and talked. I did not see this side of him appearing.
But here it was.
Pres finally stopped near a set of rocks that collected all the way into the ocean.
He turned off the engine and climbed off the four-wheeler.
I did the same.
“Now what?” I asked him.
“Now we get down to the reason we’re here, sugar.”
“Which is?”
Pres’s lip curled. “The fucking truth, Tinsley.”
sixteen
My heart sank way down into the sand.
I was really far from home now.
Far from BFH. Far from Claire’s house.
I was even far from the road.
It was just me and Pres.
He had masterfully lured me away from everything and everyone.
“What kind of truth?” I asked him, my voice shaking.
“Why you’re here. Why I’m here.”
I nodded.
Maybe this was his move. To tell me about the bet. To confess what he, Barr, and Kip had been doing behind my back all along. Which then would allow me to confess to him that their entire bet was based on bad information. There was nothing innocent about me and there was nothing to take.
Pres leaned against the back of his four-wheeler. “You said you never met your father. Is that why you’re so worried about your mother?”
“What?”
“Answer me.”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s… it was always just me and her. And I watched her struggle for years. And if she struggled, I struggled. I guess in my mind it’s always me and her.”
“That’s why you’re living with Claire,” Pres said.
“Yes.”
“What do you want out of life?”
I laughed. “Are you serious? You bring me all the way out here for that? To ask me that kind of question. I can’t answer that, Pres.”
“Nothing comes to mind?” he asked.
“Why? Why does that matter to you?”
“Because it fucking does, sugar. And maybe because you matter to me. How’s that sound?”
“I matter to you?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“I’m just something new,” I said. “Something different. That’s it.”
“That’s it, huh?”
“Trust me, Pres. It is. I can disappear tomorrow and you’d be off to someone else. You probably have a list, don’t you?”
“A list of what?”
“Names, Pres. You’re not the kind of guy that just goes after one. Barr and Kip? They probably do it that way. Because they can laugh off anything that happens. But not you. You’re too calculated for that.”
“So now we’re talking about me, sugar?”
“Appears so,” I said.
“Keep going then. I’d love to hear your thoughts and theories.”
“No thoughts and theories, Pres. Just the truth. Everything I just said.”
“And that’s that, right? You feel good now? That you’ve cracked me open a little?”
I laughed. “I’m not here to crack you open.”
“But you are here, sugar.” Pres pushed from the four-wheeler and stepped toward me. “You’re thriving in this. The attention. No matter what we throw at you. Show you. You stand right there and accept it.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No,” Pres said. “It’s cute. It’s sexy. In some ways, it drives me a little crazy for you.”
I swallowed hard.
Everything just took a sudden turn to oh-shit-this-is-serious.
“So now you’re asking me about my entire life,” I said. “What I want.”
“Maybe I understand what it feels like to see it get wasted away.”
“What get wasted away?”
“Life, sugar,” Pres said.
“Your life got wasted away? Or is?”
Pres touched my chin.
His face never looked so serious, which was saying something for Pres.
His eyes still so intense but maybe (just maybe) they were letting up a little. Showing me a different side. The side of the guy who liked to ride four-wheelers on the beach.
Pres slowly shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“Since you’re so worried about my father. And my family. Because we have to be the rich, perfect family to you, right?”
“Pres…”
“It’s okay,” Pres said. “I’ll tell you exactly why my father does what he does.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to-”
“Sugar… my mother is dying.”
* * *
Pres being Pres, he planted a kiss to my lips and then walked away.
Leaving me standing there with his words echoing through my head.
His mother was dying?
What did that mean?
Are you stupid, Ti? It means his mother is dying.
I argued with myself in my head.
I know that! I’m asking, how is she dying?
“Pres,” I finally managed to say. “What does that mean?”
Pres sat on the side of the seat to the four-wheeler and looked out at the ocean.
“They were I guess what you would call a power couple,” Pres said. “At least that’s what I heard. They were vicious, ruthless, powerful. In fact, they met battling over a piece of land. My father took everyone down involved in the deal, but my mother refused to back off. So he took her to dinner one night. His plan was to warn her to back off. Kind of like being a friendly dickhead.”
Pres paused.
I laughed in my head.
At least I knew where Pres got his charm from then, huh?
“My mother refused to back down,” Pres said as he looked at me. “She ordered the most expensive thing off the menu. Ate it. Then threw her wine at him. She walked out and he went after her. I guess it was all cliché love at first sight from there. They ended up spending the night together. They agreed to split the land deal. Made a good chunk of change off it. And they never looked back.”
Pres grabbed the handlebar of the four-wheeler that was closest to him and he squeezed it tight, shaking his head.
“He legit knows Claire through real estate stuff,” Pres said. “Not that it makes it okay to be playing in her panties. He probably used the same words and moves on Claire that he did my mother.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?” Pres asked. “You have nothing to do with it. Neither do I.”
“It’s still courtesy to say sorry.”
“Stop being fucking courteous then,” Pres said.
I stiffened and nodded. “Is your mother…”
“She’s alive,” Pres said. “But nobody talks about it. To my father, it’s a sign of weakness. Same for her too.”
“Weakness?”
“She’s got ALS, sugar,” Pres said.
“Oh, Pres,” I said.
“Don’t do that to me,” he said as he stood back up. “I’m just telling you what you want to hear. Not sure what you know about the disease, but it’s pretty fucked up to watch. She gets weaker by the day it seems. And there’s no amount of money that could fix this. She’s done everything possible. Every treatment. Traveled the world to see the best doctors. You can’t write a check to make something like that go away.”
I nodded. “Wow.”
“Wow. And to them, the admittance of disease and dying is just too much for their reputation. Which is why everyone sometimes wonders where my mother is. So they feed the rumors. Like they’re the ones our age, sugar. I’ve heard all kinds of stories. That she’s traveling the world. That she’s just enjoying life at home. Hell, it’s sometimes easier to just let people think my father is a rotten prick. Or that they are secretly split up. I just ignore it.”
“To be fair, your father is a rotten prick,” I said. “He’s cheating on your mother.”
“He’s just taking care of himself,” Pres said. “And it really doesn’t matter to me.”
I didn’t understand how it didn’t matter.
Then again, I said those same words a hundred times.
It doesn’t matter what Mom does to herself. That’s her body. Not mine. If she wants to put that crap into her arms then let her. I don’t care what happens. Even if she dies…
I didn’t say anything to Pres though.
I just went to his side and reached for his hand.
My hand slipped into his.
I looked up at him.
He looked down at me, his lip curled. Almost the same look he gave me the first time we met.
“What?” he asked.
“Forget everything you think you feel, Pres. I’m sorry about your mother. That’s shit. And it’s sad.”
“Are you sad right now?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe you should toughen up then.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be such an asshole then.”
“Not going to happen, sugar,” Pres said.
He tried to walk away but I didn’t let him go.
I gave a quick pull which was nothing compared to his strength.
He pulled me along, looking back, smiling.
I tripped and fell to the sand, still holding his hand.
Of course that was the moment Pres decided to laugh.
An actual laugh.
“Are you kidding me?” I called out. “You’re laughing at me right now?”
“Look at you, sugar,” he said. “Begging to know about my life. Falling in the sand. Refusing to let my hand go.”
“Why’s that funny?” I snapped.
Pres laughed even harder.
I never heard him like that ever.
He then took a step toward me and dropped to his knees.
Right there in the sand with me, still holding my hand.
With his free hand, he skipped touching my chin like he always did. Instead, his strong fingers slid to the back of my neck and he pulled me right to him.
“You okay?” he whispered. “Break your ankle or anything?”
“No, Pres,” I whispered. “Nothing is broken.”
“Yet,” he said with a sly grin.
He kissed me before I could ask what that comment meant.
The way he kissed was just so… something.
It was everything Pres was in real life.
Perfect, strong, commanding.
Yet there was a little playful side when he broke the kiss so he could just kiss around my lips. Soft and gentle kisses that sent feelings throughout my entire body. To my right the ocean waves pounded to the shore. In my head, I told myself we were on a private beach. One that Pres owned. Meaning nobody would be coming here. Nobody would see us. I thought about the four-wheelers. What would it be like for him to…
Pres kissed me again, stealing my thoughts.
I wanted him. I craved him. And I ached for him. In a way that actually scared me. As though I were untouched and was making the decision to let everything happen.
I walked on my knees in the sand to get closer to him.
When my body pressed against his, I could literally feel him.
His hand moved from the back of my neck to my face and he cupped my chin and pushed me away.
Our eyes locked and that was it.
Another one of those moments. My body and heart making the decision to scream yes to him. To let him think he was winning what he wanted but it was me who was winning. He could command the kiss or maybe make the next move, but I was the one who had the real power.
He kissed me again, forcing his hand away from mine.
He cupped my face with both hands, taking more control.
It was like he could sense something about me and wanted to make sure I knew who he was.
He was tall, strong, and had more power than I ever saw someone have in my life. His mother was dying of ALS. All the while his father traveled as though things were normal, sleeping around, enjoying his fortune.
My hands touched his chest.
So big and strong.
I hurried my hands down and had to touch skin.
Bare, hard skin.
I forced my hands under his shirt and felt just that. The ripples of his stomach muscles that acted like a ladder for my fingertips to climb. Then my hands moved over his chest again, but kept going, needing to feel and claw at his shoulders.
It probably looked awkward with his shirt forced up the way it was, but whatever.
Pres touched my wrists and forced my hands away.
He broke our kiss and put his forehead to mine and looked down.
I watched as he did the same thing to me.
His hands moving down over my chest.
Even over my shirt, his touch to my chest sent heat soaring throughout my body.
He touched the bottom of my shirt and his fingers peeled my shirt away from my body so his right hand could go under it. His hand against my bare skin made me suck in a breath and forget how to exhale it.
“Breathe, sugar,” Pres whispered. “I haven’t even started to make you lose your breath yet.”
That comment alone left me melting into the sand.
I actually touched my own shirt. Tempted to take it off.
There had to have been a better place though for this.
“Pres,” I whispered. “I want…”
His fingertips touched the edge of my bra. Digging to get under, going right for me.
I gasped and shut my eyes.
“Yes,” I whispered.
I was losing myself to him.
Fuck… I had already lost everything… to all of them…
I opened my mouth to tell Pres he had to make a decision. Take me there or take me somewhere else to take me.
We both heard the sound of an engine.
It wasn’t a four-wheeler though.
And it wasn’t someone on the beach.
Pres quickly stood up, taking everything away from me. His lips. His hands. His body.
I looked up, feeling shaky and desperate.
“Pres…”
“Fuck,” he growled.
The engine sound got louder and then took off.
It sounded familiar.
And when Pres looked down at me, I realized why.
“Sugar, someone just decided to steal my ride.”
* * *
Pres had me get on the back of one of the four-wheelers, telling me he would have someone take care of the other one later.
He sped along the beach to the spot where we could walk and climb to get back up to the road.
My heart raced like crazy.
For plenty of reasons.
Which seemed to be the trend when dealing with the Rulz.
Pres held my hand tight as we rushed to get back up to the road.
“Fix what?”
Pres touched my chin and brought his lips down to mine. With one soft kiss he stole my breath away.
“This is my beach,” he whispered. “And as long as I invite you to join me, you’re not breaking the law.”
“This is yours?”
“Yup.”
“And what’s the catch?”
“There is no catch, sugar.”
“That’s a lie,” I said. “There’s always a catch. You don’t need to be rich to know that.”
“Fine. You’re going to do what I say.”
“How cliché.”
“It works.”
“So I’ll ask you the same thing I asked Barr and Kip… is this your routine? You grab a girl, scare her half to death on your motorcycle, then bring her to your private beach?”
“Why do you worry about that shit?”
“Answer me.”
“You answer me. You’re always worried about the surroundings. What’s the difference if I brought a hundred girls up here or just one? You’re the one here now.”
I hated that he was right.
I hated that he could get to me and get through me.
“Whatever,” I said. “Show me what you’ve got then.”
Pres smiled. He stole another kiss. “Someday you’re going to regret saying that to me, sugar.”
“That?” I asked Pres.
He handed me another helmet. “Yours.”
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Ride it,” he said.
“No.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’m taking mine out. It’s really fun.”
There were two black four-wheelers just sitting there on the beach.
To me Pres had this entire thing all planned out and already set up.
Duh, Ti…
“I’ll show you what to do,” Pres said. “You start it. Then kill the brake here…” Pres pointed. “Then shift. Everything is automatic on it. And then press the throttle. Just be careful there so you don’t get too much at once.”
“Pres…”
“I’ll see you around, sugar,” he said.
He put a helmet on and jumped on his four-wheeler. And in one smooth motion, he started the thing and took off. Kicking up sand at me as he turned left to right, leaving a trail in the sand.
I knew he wasn’t going to stop either.
This was Pres.
“Shit,” I whispered to myself.
I hurried to put the helmet on my head and repeated everything Pres said to do.
And it worked.
I had the four-wheeler started and was slowly creeping forward on the beach.
It took me a few seconds to gauge the throttle but I was doing it. I was riding a four-wheeler on the beach.
And damn if it didn’t make me smile.
The faster I went, the freer I felt.
I sped up to a point where my heart was racing really fast.
And I was able to catch up to Pres as he was waiting for me way down near the water.
We rode the four-wheelers side by side in the wet sand.
I darted forward and made him chase me down.
I cut into the dry sand and really hit the throttle, challenging myself.
It was probably one of the most fun times I could ever remember.
Eventually Pres had to cut me off and he yelled over the engines.
“Follow me,” he said. “Trust me.”
He took off again and I was right on his tail.
Pres was so big… not just in muscle and strength either. But the way he acted, dressed, and talked. I did not see this side of him appearing.
But here it was.
Pres finally stopped near a set of rocks that collected all the way into the ocean.
He turned off the engine and climbed off the four-wheeler.
I did the same.
“Now what?” I asked him.
“Now we get down to the reason we’re here, sugar.”
“Which is?”
Pres’s lip curled. “The fucking truth, Tinsley.”
sixteen
My heart sank way down into the sand.
I was really far from home now.
Far from BFH. Far from Claire’s house.
I was even far from the road.
It was just me and Pres.
He had masterfully lured me away from everything and everyone.
“What kind of truth?” I asked him, my voice shaking.
“Why you’re here. Why I’m here.”
I nodded.
Maybe this was his move. To tell me about the bet. To confess what he, Barr, and Kip had been doing behind my back all along. Which then would allow me to confess to him that their entire bet was based on bad information. There was nothing innocent about me and there was nothing to take.
Pres leaned against the back of his four-wheeler. “You said you never met your father. Is that why you’re so worried about your mother?”
“What?”
“Answer me.”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s… it was always just me and her. And I watched her struggle for years. And if she struggled, I struggled. I guess in my mind it’s always me and her.”
“That’s why you’re living with Claire,” Pres said.
“Yes.”
“What do you want out of life?”
I laughed. “Are you serious? You bring me all the way out here for that? To ask me that kind of question. I can’t answer that, Pres.”
“Nothing comes to mind?” he asked.
“Why? Why does that matter to you?”
“Because it fucking does, sugar. And maybe because you matter to me. How’s that sound?”
“I matter to you?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“I’m just something new,” I said. “Something different. That’s it.”
“That’s it, huh?”
“Trust me, Pres. It is. I can disappear tomorrow and you’d be off to someone else. You probably have a list, don’t you?”
“A list of what?”
“Names, Pres. You’re not the kind of guy that just goes after one. Barr and Kip? They probably do it that way. Because they can laugh off anything that happens. But not you. You’re too calculated for that.”
“So now we’re talking about me, sugar?”
“Appears so,” I said.
“Keep going then. I’d love to hear your thoughts and theories.”
“No thoughts and theories, Pres. Just the truth. Everything I just said.”
“And that’s that, right? You feel good now? That you’ve cracked me open a little?”
I laughed. “I’m not here to crack you open.”
“But you are here, sugar.” Pres pushed from the four-wheeler and stepped toward me. “You’re thriving in this. The attention. No matter what we throw at you. Show you. You stand right there and accept it.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No,” Pres said. “It’s cute. It’s sexy. In some ways, it drives me a little crazy for you.”
I swallowed hard.
Everything just took a sudden turn to oh-shit-this-is-serious.
“So now you’re asking me about my entire life,” I said. “What I want.”
“Maybe I understand what it feels like to see it get wasted away.”
“What get wasted away?”
“Life, sugar,” Pres said.
“Your life got wasted away? Or is?”
Pres touched my chin.
His face never looked so serious, which was saying something for Pres.
His eyes still so intense but maybe (just maybe) they were letting up a little. Showing me a different side. The side of the guy who liked to ride four-wheelers on the beach.
Pres slowly shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“Since you’re so worried about my father. And my family. Because we have to be the rich, perfect family to you, right?”
“Pres…”
“It’s okay,” Pres said. “I’ll tell you exactly why my father does what he does.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to-”
“Sugar… my mother is dying.”
* * *
Pres being Pres, he planted a kiss to my lips and then walked away.
Leaving me standing there with his words echoing through my head.
His mother was dying?
What did that mean?
Are you stupid, Ti? It means his mother is dying.
I argued with myself in my head.
I know that! I’m asking, how is she dying?
“Pres,” I finally managed to say. “What does that mean?”
Pres sat on the side of the seat to the four-wheeler and looked out at the ocean.
“They were I guess what you would call a power couple,” Pres said. “At least that’s what I heard. They were vicious, ruthless, powerful. In fact, they met battling over a piece of land. My father took everyone down involved in the deal, but my mother refused to back off. So he took her to dinner one night. His plan was to warn her to back off. Kind of like being a friendly dickhead.”
Pres paused.
I laughed in my head.
At least I knew where Pres got his charm from then, huh?
“My mother refused to back down,” Pres said as he looked at me. “She ordered the most expensive thing off the menu. Ate it. Then threw her wine at him. She walked out and he went after her. I guess it was all cliché love at first sight from there. They ended up spending the night together. They agreed to split the land deal. Made a good chunk of change off it. And they never looked back.”
Pres grabbed the handlebar of the four-wheeler that was closest to him and he squeezed it tight, shaking his head.
“He legit knows Claire through real estate stuff,” Pres said. “Not that it makes it okay to be playing in her panties. He probably used the same words and moves on Claire that he did my mother.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?” Pres asked. “You have nothing to do with it. Neither do I.”
“It’s still courtesy to say sorry.”
“Stop being fucking courteous then,” Pres said.
I stiffened and nodded. “Is your mother…”
“She’s alive,” Pres said. “But nobody talks about it. To my father, it’s a sign of weakness. Same for her too.”
“Weakness?”
“She’s got ALS, sugar,” Pres said.
“Oh, Pres,” I said.
“Don’t do that to me,” he said as he stood back up. “I’m just telling you what you want to hear. Not sure what you know about the disease, but it’s pretty fucked up to watch. She gets weaker by the day it seems. And there’s no amount of money that could fix this. She’s done everything possible. Every treatment. Traveled the world to see the best doctors. You can’t write a check to make something like that go away.”
I nodded. “Wow.”
“Wow. And to them, the admittance of disease and dying is just too much for their reputation. Which is why everyone sometimes wonders where my mother is. So they feed the rumors. Like they’re the ones our age, sugar. I’ve heard all kinds of stories. That she’s traveling the world. That she’s just enjoying life at home. Hell, it’s sometimes easier to just let people think my father is a rotten prick. Or that they are secretly split up. I just ignore it.”
“To be fair, your father is a rotten prick,” I said. “He’s cheating on your mother.”
“He’s just taking care of himself,” Pres said. “And it really doesn’t matter to me.”
I didn’t understand how it didn’t matter.
Then again, I said those same words a hundred times.
It doesn’t matter what Mom does to herself. That’s her body. Not mine. If she wants to put that crap into her arms then let her. I don’t care what happens. Even if she dies…
I didn’t say anything to Pres though.
I just went to his side and reached for his hand.
My hand slipped into his.
I looked up at him.
He looked down at me, his lip curled. Almost the same look he gave me the first time we met.
“What?” he asked.
“Forget everything you think you feel, Pres. I’m sorry about your mother. That’s shit. And it’s sad.”
“Are you sad right now?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe you should toughen up then.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be such an asshole then.”
“Not going to happen, sugar,” Pres said.
He tried to walk away but I didn’t let him go.
I gave a quick pull which was nothing compared to his strength.
He pulled me along, looking back, smiling.
I tripped and fell to the sand, still holding his hand.
Of course that was the moment Pres decided to laugh.
An actual laugh.
“Are you kidding me?” I called out. “You’re laughing at me right now?”
“Look at you, sugar,” he said. “Begging to know about my life. Falling in the sand. Refusing to let my hand go.”
“Why’s that funny?” I snapped.
Pres laughed even harder.
I never heard him like that ever.
He then took a step toward me and dropped to his knees.
Right there in the sand with me, still holding my hand.
With his free hand, he skipped touching my chin like he always did. Instead, his strong fingers slid to the back of my neck and he pulled me right to him.
“You okay?” he whispered. “Break your ankle or anything?”
“No, Pres,” I whispered. “Nothing is broken.”
“Yet,” he said with a sly grin.
He kissed me before I could ask what that comment meant.
The way he kissed was just so… something.
It was everything Pres was in real life.
Perfect, strong, commanding.
Yet there was a little playful side when he broke the kiss so he could just kiss around my lips. Soft and gentle kisses that sent feelings throughout my entire body. To my right the ocean waves pounded to the shore. In my head, I told myself we were on a private beach. One that Pres owned. Meaning nobody would be coming here. Nobody would see us. I thought about the four-wheelers. What would it be like for him to…
Pres kissed me again, stealing my thoughts.
I wanted him. I craved him. And I ached for him. In a way that actually scared me. As though I were untouched and was making the decision to let everything happen.
I walked on my knees in the sand to get closer to him.
When my body pressed against his, I could literally feel him.
His hand moved from the back of my neck to my face and he cupped my chin and pushed me away.
Our eyes locked and that was it.
Another one of those moments. My body and heart making the decision to scream yes to him. To let him think he was winning what he wanted but it was me who was winning. He could command the kiss or maybe make the next move, but I was the one who had the real power.
He kissed me again, forcing his hand away from mine.
He cupped my face with both hands, taking more control.
It was like he could sense something about me and wanted to make sure I knew who he was.
He was tall, strong, and had more power than I ever saw someone have in my life. His mother was dying of ALS. All the while his father traveled as though things were normal, sleeping around, enjoying his fortune.
My hands touched his chest.
So big and strong.
I hurried my hands down and had to touch skin.
Bare, hard skin.
I forced my hands under his shirt and felt just that. The ripples of his stomach muscles that acted like a ladder for my fingertips to climb. Then my hands moved over his chest again, but kept going, needing to feel and claw at his shoulders.
It probably looked awkward with his shirt forced up the way it was, but whatever.
Pres touched my wrists and forced my hands away.
He broke our kiss and put his forehead to mine and looked down.
I watched as he did the same thing to me.
His hands moving down over my chest.
Even over my shirt, his touch to my chest sent heat soaring throughout my body.
He touched the bottom of my shirt and his fingers peeled my shirt away from my body so his right hand could go under it. His hand against my bare skin made me suck in a breath and forget how to exhale it.
“Breathe, sugar,” Pres whispered. “I haven’t even started to make you lose your breath yet.”
That comment alone left me melting into the sand.
I actually touched my own shirt. Tempted to take it off.
There had to have been a better place though for this.
“Pres,” I whispered. “I want…”
His fingertips touched the edge of my bra. Digging to get under, going right for me.
I gasped and shut my eyes.
“Yes,” I whispered.
I was losing myself to him.
Fuck… I had already lost everything… to all of them…
I opened my mouth to tell Pres he had to make a decision. Take me there or take me somewhere else to take me.
We both heard the sound of an engine.
It wasn’t a four-wheeler though.
And it wasn’t someone on the beach.
Pres quickly stood up, taking everything away from me. His lips. His hands. His body.
I looked up, feeling shaky and desperate.
“Pres…”
“Fuck,” he growled.
The engine sound got louder and then took off.
It sounded familiar.
And when Pres looked down at me, I realized why.
“Sugar, someone just decided to steal my ride.”
* * *
Pres had me get on the back of one of the four-wheelers, telling me he would have someone take care of the other one later.
He sped along the beach to the spot where we could walk and climb to get back up to the road.
My heart raced like crazy.
For plenty of reasons.
Which seemed to be the trend when dealing with the Rulz.
Pres held my hand tight as we rushed to get back up to the road.
