Straddling the Edge (9 page)

We walk into the hotel hand in h
and. Women stop to stare at him; he’s that good looking. Instead of being jealous, I feel proud. That’s a new feeling for me. He doesn’t even notice the gawking sets of eyes. He just guides me down a long hallway toward an elevator.

“Aha,” I tell him when he hits the floor to
the Spa. “We’re getting our toesies done?”

“Not on your life,” he says. “I could never show my face at a construction site again if I got my toes painted like a girl.”

I look down at his exposed feet. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you get them done once a week. You have nice feet.” And he does. It sure looks like his toes are perfectly manicured and his heels look soft. Thankfully.

We reach the front desk of the Spa and he does the talking. “Dean Michaels. I have an eight o’clock appointment.”

“Welcome, Mr. & Mrs. Michaels.”

“Oh, we’re not married,” I blurt out, holding up my left hand.

Dean chuckles and shakes his head letting the receptionist know I’m right. She smiles at him and then quickly types away on her keyboard. “Sorry about that. Well, Micah and Frieda will be right with you.” She turns to me. “You’re going to love this treatment. It’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever experienced.” And then she adds, “He’s definitely a keeper,” along with a wink.

“Romance, huh?” I murmur. Dean places his hand on the small of my back and guides me toward the big window with a stunning view overlooking the beach.

“You have something against romance?”

“Not at all. When do you plan on telling me what we’re doing?” I’d like to mentally prepare myself for whatever is about to happen.

“This morning you were talking about missing going out with the girls for manicures and pedicures. It was something that you didn’t get to be part of.” I nod, remembering the conversation and surprised at how at ease I was telling him about my lack of girlfriends, until now. “Well, I thought I’d do something to make up for those lost experiences. Just not a mani-pedi thing, because I’m a dude.”

“Guys get manicures and pedicures, you know?” I laugh at his machismo.

“Not this one. I can cut my own nails. Anyway, how does a couple’s massage sound to you?”

My eyes widen, and tears sting my eyes at his thoughtfulness. “That sounds fantastic.”

Micah and Frieda come out to meet us, dressed in white and looking like they could be part of the Cullen coven, they’re so beautiful and flawless. They lead us down a long candle lit hallway, and I can almost see the big hearts bugging out of my dreamy eyes as if I’m part of a cartoon. The romantic mood has definitely been set. They show us to separate dressing rooms where we are supposed to disrobe down to our undies, or completely nude if we choose. They let us know that bathing suits are provided, to which Dean suggests I wear. It’s comforting to know he’s not trying to get me naked. Not now, at least, in front of other people.

The dressing room is jaw-
droppingly fancy. I’ve had a massage before. I’ve been to places that could never compare to this exquisite room full of fountains of spa water, fruit bowls full of green apples, plush towels and bathrobes, hair products, wooden hangers and garment bags, just to name a few of the luxuries. I chuckle inside thinking I hope Dean knows he’s setting a precedent.

After changing into a black two-piece bathing suit, a halter on top and boy shorts on the bottom, and pulling my hair up in a clip, I slide my arms into a spa robe and make my way outside the room. I feel like Paris Hilton or a
Kardashian, being spoiled like this. What did I ever do to deserve such pampering?

“You ready?” Dean says, reaching out
to hold my hand. The sparks zip up and down my arm and all over my body. You’d think I’d tamper down the flutters already, but I can’t. His touch makes me feel so alive. “I know you wanted a day at the spa with the girls, but I hope I’m a decent substitute.” He tugs me to his side and places a kiss on my temple.

“I’ll let you know when we’re all done,” I tease him. “If it doesn’t go well, we’ll just have to keep trying.”

“Is that right?”

“Heck
yeah. I could get used to this.” I ruffle with the collar of my robe. “I feel like a princess.”

“You look like one. You’re beautiful.” There they are. Those sparkling eyes gazing into mine with such heat they could light a fire. He starts to lower his face, and I prepare to be kissed senseless, again.

“We’re ready for the lovebirds,” Micah says, in a singsong tune. It would’ve been cute if he hadn’t just interrupted an opportunity for me to taste Dean’s lips.

Dean holds up our hands. “And we’re ready.”

When we walk into a new room, my mouth drops yet again. The lights are extremely dim, but candles of all sizes are lit throughout the entire suite. Two massage tables are set up in front of a floor-to-ceiling window. It’s dark outside but the ocean is in view, a few lights from boats can be seen, and even a few stars. It’s absolutely breathtaking.

I press my fingertips to my mouth, waves of emotions overtake me, and I just can’t fight back the tears welling in my eyes.

“Do you like it?” Dean asks, a grin spread across his face. “Is this what you imagined?”

I shake my head, a single tear sliding down my cheek. “No, Dean. It’s so much better.” I reach my hand up to cup his cheek with my palm, the scruff on his face, tickling my fingers. He smiles at me and bends down so I can place a sweet kiss on his lips. Nothing big, just enough to let him
know that I appreciate what he did for me. And just enough to raise my temperature about a hundred degrees. This man is like a walking heater to my senses.

Finally, we get to the massages. Dean and I both lie on our bellies on separate tables. Micah works on me and Frieda takes Dean. We face each other, looking into each other’s eyes as our muscles relax and the sugar cookie scent of vanilla oil melts into our bodies. He thought of everything. Micah said he requested vanilla because I was allergic to other fragrances.

Just when I think he couldn’t get any better, things like that come up. He listens to me. He knows me. He gets me more from spending one day together than other people who have known me for years.

Not to mention, with just the look in his eye, he makes me feel things between my thighs that I’ve never felt before. I try to relax and enjoy the massage, but all I really want to do is kick Micah and Frieda out and show Dean what I can do with my hands and a little bit of oil.

He reaches out, and I do the same. Our fingers barely touch.

“Hold on a minute, Frieda.” Dean sits up and jumps off the table. His towel falls to the floor but he has swim trunks on underneath. Then he scoots the table over about a foot, and hops back on. “There.”

Now, our tables are side by side, our hands reach each other and our shoulders nearly touch. My eyes flutter closed as he traces circles with his thumb on the back of my hand.

Just when I’m as relaxed as can be and feel like a limp noodle, time is up. Frieda and Micah pack up a few things and leave the room.

“It’s all yours. Enjoy,” Micah says as he shuts the double doors to the suite behind him.

“What? What do they mean?” I ask, looking around like I’ve missed something.

“We’re not done yet.” Dean says, taking my hand and pulling me behind him as he walks outside onto a small balcony. “Care for a dip?”

A steaming Jacuzzi tub is bubbling before me. I didn’t think my body could get much hotter for Dean, but now, it sure does. “Let’s go for it.”

He steps in first,
and then holds out his hand. I take it and he steadies me as I slide in next to him.

Can this night get any better?

I must say this is the best date anyone has ever planned for me. I didn’t know guys really did stuff like this. It’s like something out of a movie. Something out of a fairytale.

“This is awesome,” he says. “A lot better than I thought it was going to be. The internet doesn’t do it justice.”

I don’t know what to say. I’m still a little bit in shock. But I know how I feel and I know what I’m dying to do.

I slide off my seat and stand in front of Dean.

“You know I’ve never really felt comfortable in a bathing suit in front of a man before.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this. It’s not something I generally share. But for some reason, I feel like Dean cares … like he cares enough about me to want to know these things.

His gaze trails up and down my body. “Why not, Summer? You’re perfect.” When I don’t immediately respond, he says, “You know you can tell me anything. I want to know everything about you.”

“I’ve always had really big breasts for my body size.” I cross my arms at my chest. “And most boys didn’t see much else.”

He places his hands on my forearms and pushes them away. “Don’t do that. Don’t be self-conscious around me. Don’t get me wrong, boobs are great. Yours are more than great. But that’s not a
ll I see. I see a beautiful woman with a kind heart. I see the most stunning big brown eyes and I love the way you look at me. And I see the cutest, sweetest, most playful girl ever in a Dodger hat, cheering on her team. Those are the things I see before anything else.”

“And that’s why I feel so comfortable with you. Because I truly believe you and want to share everything with you.”

I slide closer to Dean, kneeling down with a knee on either side of his thighs. Instantly, I can feel his heat against me, his throbbing erection against my core. Only a few pieces of material separate us and I have to fight back the urge to tear our clothes off and take him right here.

As I settle into his lap, his shaft presses harder against my folds, and I rock my hips toward him, our eyes locked together and my senses overflowing with desire. And then his lips are on mine. This time the gentleness is gone and he ravages my mouth with his, biting at my bottom lip and then the top. My lips part and our tongues meet, tasting, teasing, lapping, and thrusting. I’m breathing hard against his mouth and I need air.

I tilt my head back to gasp with the pleasure of our bodies grinding against each other, and Dean takes the chance to suck on my neck. He licks straight down my throat, and sucks with his lips and teeth from one earlobe across to the other. The hard suction of his mouth on the sensitive skin along the side of my neck causes me to cry out.

Shivering and vibrating at the start of a storm, the muscles in my center tighten with spasms of tortured heat, wanting to feel him inside me but it’s too late because my body is exploding with just his kisses and the pressure of his covered cock teasing my core.

“Fuck,” I sigh into his shoulder, the waves slowly subsiding, my breaths coming just a little bit easier. “That’s never happened before.”

He holds me close, his arms wrapped around me. He kisses my shoulders, and nuzzles his face into my neck. We sit like this, cuddled in each other’s arms, as the minutes tick by, not wanting to let go. Not wanting the moment to end. Or this perfect night that Dean
created for me. This night full of such thoughtful planning, showing just how much he cares about me and just how much he understands my needs.

Dean unleashes my hair from the clip and
the locks cascade down my back. Running his fingers through my hair, he stares at me and I can see what I feel for him mirrored back in his own eyes. He feels it too.

He kisses me again, slowly, gently, with just his soft plump lips
pressed to mine.

“God,
Summer. This is going to sound crazy, but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

I cup his face in both of my hands and kiss him the same way he kissed me. “Then let’s be crazy together, because I think I love you too.”

Melissa

“You know it wouldn’t kill us to just relax for the first month of summer break, right?” Ty says, getting all his grilling fixings ready. Salt and pepper would do just fine for me, but he thinks he’s some kind of grill master with special spices and rubs for different types of meat. It’s a burger for crying out loud. Slap some seasoning
salt on the beef and throw it over the fire.

“It just might,” I tell him. “If we didn’t have friends over, you’d be stuck here listening to me talk all day. Then you’d get sick of me and commit murder, leaving Mia parentless while your ass rots in jail.”

“That wouldn’t happen.” He chuckles. “I love listening to you talk, but if I ever got sick of it, I’m sure I could think of something to shut you up. And it’s a mouthful.” He raises a brow.

I take a few steps toward him, reaching out and
gripping my hand at the crotch of his cargo shorts. “Yup, it’s a mouthful, all right.”

He bends down and smacks a kiss to my lips, playfully tugging on my lower lip. “Damn it. This is why we shouldn’t have people over.” He points down to the tent in his short, then reaches his hand down the front and pulls his guy up into the waistband so it’s not poking out anymore.

“Great. Now wash your hands.”

“Why?” he teases, shoving his hand in my face. “It’ll add a little extra flavor.”