Peachy Keen
Authors: Kate Roth
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Humorous, #Romantic Erotica
PEACHY KEEN
KATE ROTH
Written by Kate Roth
Copyright ©2015 by Kate Roth
Cover Design by Jennifer Redman
Edited by Erin Roth, Wise Owl Editing
Proofread by Lauren Magdziarz, All Good Things Editing
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
All rights reserved.
Recommended for ages 18+, contains strong sexual content, graphic scenes and explicit language.
Table of Contents
Chapter One—Girls Just Want to Have Fun
Chapter Seven—We’re Going to be Friends
Chapter Eight—If I Can’t Have You
Chapter Eleven—Do That To Me One More Time
Chapter Twelve—All Through The Night
Chapter Thirteen—Goodbye, Stranger
Chapter Fourteen—Find My Way Back Home
Chapter Fifteen—Make Me Lose Control
Chapter Sixteen—Waiting For A Girl Like You
Chapter Seventeen—One More Try
Chapter Eighteen—Georgia On My Mind
Chapter Nineteen—Fooled Around And Fell In Love
Chapter Twenty—How Will I Know
Chapter Twenty-One—Light As the Breeze
Chapter One of
Many Times, Many Ways
1.
Girls Just Want to Have Fun
Georgia
I love my best friend. I mean, I really love her. But if I had to spend one more Friday night listening to her fuck her ungodly hot—not to mention famous—boyfriend, I was going to end up on the news for burning my apartment to the ground.
Careful not to smudge my wet nail polish, I dialed the volume up on my iPod and winced as I used my shoulders to squish my earbuds in just a little deeper. Another moan came through the wall as I finished swiping the last bit of top coat on my pinky and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. For the last six years the only sound I heard coming out of her room had been the faint hum of vibrations, but now that she had Evan Weston in her life every weekend turned our apartment into a scene from
When Harry Met Sally
.
I was happy for her. Truly. Danielle’s the best kind of girl. She’s sweet and loving, and she took care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself, which was…often. If anyone deserved good headboard-rattling, sound-barrier-breaking sex, it was her. The sex marathons Evan and Danielle participated in in our apartment weren’t really the problem though. It was everything else. I could handle coming home to “Oh, God!” and “That’s it, baby. Mmm.” But the nights I came home to the two of them cuddled on the couch, tangled in each other’s arms looking oh-so-comfortable or kissing in the kitchen while they baked brownies and shit—those were the times I found myself inexplicably wanting to cry.
My life was wild and I liked it that way. I went out and I partied and I had a knack for nabbing the hottest guy in the club. My roster has always been at least four men deep to keep things interesting in the bedroom. The idea of a relationship always sounded a little too much like “tied down.” If I was going to get tied down it would need to be to a four-poster bed.
But looking at Evan and Danielle, I wondered. What does that feel like? Clearly with all the “Oh, God!” and “Fuck, yes!” coming through the walls, it was anything but boring. It’d been a few months since Evan knocked on our door—shocking the hell out of me—spouting off a bunch of sappy stuff about love that made Danielle look as though she would physically melt. Maybe it was just because he was famous, but their life kind of looked like a movie. They were having a happily ever after and they were nowhere near the end.
Suddenly my music felt way too loud and I realized the pornographic melody from the other side of my bedroom wall had silenced.
Maybe he killed her with his dick.
I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment, resting back against my pillows after I turned the volume down a touch. My thoughts turned into broken fragments of wonder and little shards of memories of the handful of boyfriends I’d had.
High school couldn’t possibly count. What a fucking nightmare. I dated two guys, one junior year and one senior year, each for less than ten months. Looking back, they were both morons who didn’t know a clit from a clock on the wall. And trust me, they didn’t know shit about winding me up.
College was a little different. I had two more guys I would’ve given the label
boyfriend
if I’d been wise enough to think I could have. Instead, I spent time with them doing the date thing and getting my feet—not to mention another body part—wet in terms of sexual experience, but it never really dawned on me to pin them down with exclusivity. They were with other girls, and when I was offered the occasional party makeout, I didn’t let a sense of loyalty toward them stop me from going for it.
I’d never really been anyone’s girlfriend and it’d never bothered me until I saw Danielle as Evan’s girlfriend. For all the time I had known her, her experiences in the dating department didn’t make the idea any more appealing. Especially her ex, Kyle. He was her boyfriend for months and he was a total ass! When Dani was with him she was constantly trying to be someone she wasn’t just to make him happy. I like who I am and no man, no matter how hot or sweet or dynamite in the sack, was going to make me change.
My lips pursed to blow on my fingertips in one final effort to dry them completely. A sigh followed and I felt the muscles in my face wilt into a frown. Danielle was more herself than she’d ever been now that she was with Evan. Was that what love did?
I tapped the pad of my finger to a nail on my other hand and smiled when I felt the hardened, slick polish. I hopped over to my bedroom door and made my way to the kitchen for a drink. Danielle was there, the light of the refrigerator cast around her. A smirk formed on my mouth; she was swimming in Evan’s long-sleeved shirt with nothing but her panties on underneath.
“Need a snack after burning all those calories?”
She whipped around, holding a pizza box open in front of her with wide eyes. “Shit, you scared me.”
I chuckled and grabbed a glass from the cabinet.
“Oh, Georgia, I’m sorry. Did we keep you awake?” Dani asked.
Another laugh rolled out of me as I filled my glass with ice and water from the filtered pitcher in the refrigerator. “You kept all of Philly awake.”
I heard her sigh behind me where she was putting two pieces of leftover pizza on a plate to microwave. “I’m sorry,” she said faintly.
Turning back to her, I let her see my soft smile. “You don’t need to apologize, Mama. You know I’m happy for you, right?”
Her mouth shifted into a grin and she shrugged weakly.
Danielle wasn’t the cause for my unrest. I needed a break and watching—and listening to—her happiness was only making that clearer. A few days ago, when Evan invited us to come to his apartment in New York for his best friend’s birthday in a couple weeks, I felt a slight pang of disappointment that I didn’t have a date to bring. While I’d never really cared about being dateless, going to a party full of A-listers as Evan and Danielle’s third wheel sounded pathetic.
I had a halfway decent job where I made halfway decent money, a little black book of men who never failed to show up but who honestly had been failing at the rest as of late, and Danielle…who I feared I was slowly losing to Evan. I didn’t want to be alone but I didn’t know if being
someone’s
was what I wanted either. I just knew I needed to get away from it all for a while. I needed a vacation.
My eyes suddenly glued to Danielle as she brushed hair out of her eyes, waiting for the ding of the microwave. She’d taken the vacation I’d always dreamt of and done it in the exact opposite way I’d hoped she would (granted, it clearly worked out for her). Dani fell in love in a place where she could’ve explored every fantasy she wanted without so much as exchanging first names.
Desire Resort and Spa was wasted on Danielle. But I was made for that place.
My heart seized in my chest and I gulped down more of my ice water with every thought of what I would do at Desire. I would embrace the girl I’d always been. Wild. Young. Free. I would damn the people who’d judged my life from a distance. I was simply an independent woman who loved, craved, and preached the joys of sex the way some women did about the Pumpkin Spice Latte. I’d always owned my sexuality and at a place like Desire, I wouldn’t have to make apologies for it.
So it was settled…I was going to take a damn vacation.
***
Snapping at the black elastic hair tie that was ever-present on my wrist, I felt a nervous tremble in my gut. I’d never lied to my best friend.
Danielle pushed out a pouty lip and pulled me into a hug where we stood on the curb. The Departures sign hung over head and when she looked into my eyes I wanted to tell her, but I just couldn’t. She wouldn’t understand.
“Tell your dad and Linda I said hi,” she said before sweetly tilting her head to one side. Dammit, she was going to make me fold. The truth was right on the tip of my tongue. “I’m glad you’re getting away for a little while. I know Evan and I have made the apartment a little cramped. You deserve some alone time. Have fun!”
I’d be having fun, all right. As far as Danielle knew, I was headed to San Diego to stay with my dad and stepmother for a week. But inside my bag was every piece of revealing clothing I owned, every last bit of lingerie, an economy-sized box of condoms, and a ticket to Mexico. Desire Resort and Spa to be exact.
I pulled Dani into another hug and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mama. I’ll see you in a week.”
She smiled and climbed back in the driver’s seat before pulling out into the stream of traffic leading out of the airport. I stood on the curb, shaky and a little short of breath. Why the hell was I nervous? This was the start of my dream trip. I should’ve been running for the terminal with a giddy grin, upgrading to first class with what little balance remained on my credit card. I should’ve been saying screw regular old life—I’m headed to the happiest place on earth. But my palms were sweaty, my eyes were wide, and my knees buckled a little when I checked my bag before drifting numbly through security.
With my carry-on held tightly to my side, I sat in one of the little row seats at gate C3, waiting for them to call my flight number over the intercom for boarding.
Deep breaths, Georgia
. My eyes swept around the other seats at the gate as I tried to loosen up. A few hours and I’d be there. No turning back. No one to answer to. No dream too daring. If Danielle—scared little prude that she was at the time—could get on her plane after I forced her into drunkenly planning a sex-cation, then I could too.
I slept for most of the flight and even dozed a little on the shuttle to the resort. It seemed as though my weeks of stress and constant inner battling had exhausted me and all it took to slow my blood pressure down was the sight of palm trees and the feel of thick, humid air on my skin. I perked up when the little shuttle bus pulled into the circular drive of the stunning resort. The colors of the flowers and the birds flying around them were so bright I felt like Dorothy seeing a whole new world for the first time. Stepping off the bus with my bags, I grinned.
Fuck Kansas, Toto, I’m never going home.
