The Sex On Beach Book Club (23 page)

She cupped his balls and covered him with her mouth. The combination of the warm, wet pull of her sucking and her tongue sliding along him drained any blood left from his brain. Pleasure raced through him. He ran his hand over her hair and any place he could reach just to touch her. Her clever mouth worked his dick while her hands fondled his balls.

He grabbed a handful of the sheet and moved against her. Lifting his head, he saw her taking him, suckling him. Then she raised her blue eyes, dark with need and something else.

Something sweet and giving.

Heat gripped from his lower back, raced down his balls, and he exploded into a climax.

 

Holly loved the feel of Wes in her mouth, of his hand stroking her head. He never pushed her head, the way men did to control a woman. Instead he stroked her, touching her face, moving over her shoulder and back to her hair.

Like he just wanted to touch her.

She'd woken up this morning and seen him sprawled naked on his back with a morning erection bringing him to half mast. And she'd felt that odd catch in her chest. She didn't want to identify her feelings. She just wanted Wes for the short time they had left. She knew she was getting close to breaking the case.

She decided she'd have him for the little time they had together. He seemed to accept her as she was, flaws and all, and she wanted to give him something back. His life had been ripped apart, his best friend shot, and Wes still worried about others, like Kelly's feelings. He cared about others besides himself.

She could give him this. A pleasant morning wake-up, and maybe a good memory of her.

Wes tugged at her arm, got his hands under her shoulders, and pulled her up to him.

She looked at him and grinned. “Now you can go back to sleep.”

He stroked his hand over her hair and down her back. “Why would I want to do that, Holly?”

She laughed. “Every man does.”

“You think so?” He kept touching her. “What if I have a burning question that keeps me from being able to go back to sleep?”

She relaxed against him. “Do I know the answer?”

“Oh yeah.”

She'd play along. “What's your question?”

He brought his hand around to cup the side of her face. Even in the dim light, she could see the intensity of his green eyes. “Did sucking me make you wet? Horny? If I touch you, am I going to feel your creamy excitement?”

She shivered. She hadn't expected this. “I wanted to do it.”

He smiled. “I believe you. I asked you if it made you hot.”

“Do you have a problem with early morning gifts, book boy?”

He looked startled. “No. God, no. Holly, I loved it.” He lifted his head to kiss her. “But I still want to know.”

Yes, damn it.
And he was making her hotter now. “Yes. It made me so hot, my panties are probably soaked. Is that what you wanted to know?”

He seemed to miss a breath. “Damn right.” He swallowed. “Show me.”

“Show you what?” What was this between her and Wes? How did he touch something so deep inside of her?

He held her gaze. “Give me your panties.”

“And then?”

He arched both eyebrows. “Did I stop you from taking what you wanted?”

She shifted and wiggled until she'd slid her panties off and handed them to him.

He tossed them aside and kissed her. Driving his tongue in deep, sweeping over the roof of her mouth, playing with her tongue. He held her mouth to his, and stroked his free hand down her side, around her hip, then to the front where he pushed apart her legs. Breaking the kiss, he slid his fingers over her folds and inside her. “Mouthwateringly wet. Just the way I like it.” His breath shuddered once as he locked his gaze on her. “Bring it up to me, Holly.”

She nearly came right then. But Holly waited until he used his mouth to drive her to an incredible release.

 

Holly walked into Wes's kitchen to the smell of coffee but no sign of Wes. She turned and headed down the hallway, stopping first at the third bedroom/office. She quietly edged open the door and saw Jodi and Kelly sound asleep on the double sleeper sofa. Pulling the door closed, she guessed maybe Wes was in George's room.

Nope, George was asleep, too.

Frowning, she headed back to the kitchen when she heard Monty barking. She looked out the sliding glass door, past the deck, down to the sandy beach. Wes bent over, wearing only a pair of shorts, and picked up the ball.

Monty barked, did a little puppy dance, then stared at the ball.

Wes drew back his arm and threw the ball.

Monty dashed after it, his gait strong and his golden ears flopping.

Wes rotated his arm, stretching the muscles. With the morning sun warming his body, he was fit, tanned, and she could see in him the younger man who had wanted nothing more than to be a baseball player. It had all ended one horrible night with a home invasion robbery.

Her chest constricted. She blinked, the morning sun making her eyes burn.

Either that or she was in trouble. Because her feelings for Wes just might be a little stronger than professional. “Shit.” She stood there, frozen to the spot, wondering how she could be so incredibly stupid.

Monty came bounding back with the ball in his mouth, but Wes turned his head and looked at Holly.

She felt it right down to her toes.

Wes reached down and scooped Monty into his arms and headed toward the deck to come inside.

Holly turned and went to the coffeepot. She found two cups and poured the coffee. She heard the slider open and Wes come inside. She kept her eyes on the coffee.

What the hell did she do now? The only thing she could do, tell him the truth. End it. She was a PI, a damn good PI. She wasn't ever going to be a mother or the other half of a partnership and that was fine with her.

Wes must have put Monty on the floor because the dog bounded over to her. He set the ball down by her foot, then barked softly.

She looked down at the dog. He had such sweet eyes, and a gentle, intelligent face. Leaving the coffee cups, she bent down to pet him. “Out getting your morning exercise?”

He bent his nose and pushed the ball toward her.

Holly laughed. “Hey, I'm not the pitcher around here.”

“Monty,” Wes said, “come eat.” He poured food in the dog's dish.

Monty picked up his ball and trotted over to his food bowl.

Holly stood up. She took a breath and reached for a cup to hand it to Wes.

But he moved up behind her, put one arm around her waist, and used his free hand to move her hair and kiss her neck. “Good morning, Hill
baby
. I like your hair down.”

His bare skin was warm and she could smell his soap. “I like it up.”

He took the coffee from her hand, set it on the counter, and forced her to turn around. “What's the matter, Holly? You looked upset when I saw you standing in the window.”

She lifted her head to stare into his green eyes, and frowned. “You couldn't possibly have seen my face that clearly.”

“It's the way you were standing. Your shoulders were raised and you had a hand on your stomach like you were ill.”

He knew her that well? “I'm not a morning person. I haven't had my coffee yet.” And he was distracting her with his naked chest.

He dropped his hands from her shoulders, reached behind her, and picked up both cups. “Out on the deck, Hillbay.”

She didn't move. “Giving orders, Brockman?”

Holding both cups, his shoulders and neck bulging with tension, he said, “Either out on the deck where no one will wander in and hear us, or right here. But either way, you're going to tell me what the hell is bugging you.”

The seconds stretched out as they stared at each other. She could leave, but she'd be leaving Wes and the others unprotected. Okay, she'd be running. Finally, she stalked over to the slider, opened it, and walked out to the table by the cold fire pit. It was surprisingly brisk out there. And quiet, except for the rhythmic crashing of the waves and the occasional call of a bird hunting for breakfast. She heard Wes say something to Monty, slide the door closed, and then he set the coffee down in front of her.

Wes sat down on the bricked edge of the fire pit with his back to the ocean and his knees touching hers. He sipped his coffee, set it down on the bricks next to him, then looked at her. “You were fine when we were making love this morning, and you were asleep when I got in the shower. So what happened between now and then?”

“Reality check.” She reached for her coffee.

He caught her hand. “Look at me and tell me, Holly. What scares you so much about us?”

That was damned annoying. “I'm not scared.” She didn't bother trying to jerk her hand from his warm hold. “I'm realistic. I'm not looking for a relationship. I don't want one. I have my business to build, and you don't trust cops anyway.”

He rubbed his thumb on her palm and looked thoughtful. “You're an ex-cop, sweetheart. You and your irritating family have shown me the other side.” He flashed a grin. “Maybe most cops aren't dickheads.”

God. She wanted to laugh and cry, and that was just so not like her. But Wes took her breath away. For most of his life, he had believed he couldn't trust cops, and now he was changing that view. People rarely did that. Just like he changed the man he was. He hadn't liked who he had become as Nick Mandeville so he became Wes Brockman. Yes, she knew he disappeared to save his sister, but it was more.

“You're overthinking this. The way this works is you have something on your mind, you tell me what it is. Because I'm a man, I'll try to fix it. Then you'll get mad at me because you don't want me to fix it. You're capable of fixing it yourself. See?”

Her mouth twitched because part of her wanted to laugh. But Holly prided herself on dealing with life. Time to deal. “You can't fix this, Brockman. We had fun. The sex was nice. But there's no future.” She took a breath and held his gaze. “I can't have kids. Ever.”

W
es stared at Holly and tried to understand. Then it hit him. “The scar.”

She pulled her hand from his. Shock had slackened his grip. “Yes.” She stood up and looked down at him. “I'm going to the office. Take the girls with you to work. I'm going to get some patrols to drive by the house and keep an eye on George.”

Wes stood up so that he was toe to toe with her. Did she think he couldn't see the pain etched so deep into her heart it had grown into a chip on her shoulder? His shock was giving way to anger. “So that's it? You drop your little bombshell and walk out? And I what? Go find a woman who can breed? And while I'm at it, I might as well find one that can dance, too.” He heard what was coming out of his mouth, but he couldn't stop. “Is that it, Holly?”

Her eyes widened and her face went pale, showing her freckles and her sorrow. She put her hand over her stomach as if she might be sick. Then she dropped it and got a hold of herself. “Yes.” She sidestepped to get away from him since the chair behind her blocked her in.

“No.” He said it softly, ashamed of his anger at her. It didn't take much to guess how hard it was for her to tell him. It shouldn't have been, but it was. “Holly, don't leave me. Don't walk out on me.” Christ, he didn't mean to say it that way.

But it stopped her. She turned back. And stood there, looking as helpless as he'd ever seen her.

He pulled her into his arms, folded her into him, trying to protect her. She was stiff, and damn it, he could feel her shaking. He ran his hand over her back, trying to soothe her. “This isn't a deal-breaker, baby.” He smoothed her hair down and added, “I love you, Holly.”

She melted against him. The breath flowed out of her body and she settled into his arms, leaning on him. He had never felt more powerful than this moment, when he had won Holly's trust.

He pulled her head up to look at her face. “Tell me what happened. I assume you had a hysterectomy?”

She met his gaze. “I want my coffee.”

Wes blinked, then laughed and let her go. She was his PI, tough, determined, and prickly. He picked up her mug and handed it to her, then got his own, took her hand, and pulled her with him to the edge of the deck. They leaned against the deck rail and watched the waves. Some early morning surfers were out.

She asked, “Do you still surf?”

“Yes.” Wes waited. His mug was empty so he set it aside and folded his arms on the rail. He didn't need to push her. She had accepted his love for her, he had felt it. In time, she'd accept that she felt the same way about him. He had to believe that. He watched the waves, thinking about how much Holly believed in him. She was the kind of woman who would believe in him even when he made mistakes. She would believe that he would fix his mistakes.

“Three years ago, I got pregnant.”

He nodded without looking at her, and did the math. “Brad?”

“Yes. I was working a lot of overtime, trying to pay off the bills for his law school. We were living together. Anyway, I had pains but Brad wasn't concerned.”

The coffee turned to acid in his stomach. He unfolded his arms, reached over, and took Holly's hand.

“One day I was working a double shift, but I was getting sicker and sicker until Rodgers took me home early from work. I was too sick to drive. I called Brad and he said he'd come home and take me to the hospital.”

His voice was flat. “Did he?”

“I guess not. I waited, he didn't come home. I must have passed out and my dad found me.” She looked over at him. “Rodgers had called my dad and told him she thought something was really wrong. My dad came over, found me, and called the paramedics. It turned out to be an ectopic pregnancy, you know, where the egg settles outside the uterus. I got an infection and they had to do a hysterectomy to save my life.”

Wes let go of her hand, put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into his side. It was all he could do to control his rage at Brad, the asshole. “I'm glad they saved your life. Did Brad ever show up?”

“When I was coming out of anesthesia. He broke up with me then. He said he needed a wife who could have children and provide the right image for his career.”

Blood pounded in his ears. He fought to keep his breathing even. “And Seth beat the shit out of him.” It wasn't a question. Wes would have done the same thing if Holly had been his sister. He wanted to do the same thing right now, track down that sniveling bastard and kick his ass.

“My dad pulled Seth off of him. Dad had gone to our apartment to get me some clothes and found Seth doing his best to kill Brad.”

“Brad didn't prosecute?” From what Wes had seen of Brad, that didn't sound right.

“Nope, because my dad told him we'd tell the world what a slime bucket he was. We came to an understanding. I wouldn't go after him for the money his law degree cost, et cetera, and he wouldn't prosecute Seth.”

That sounded just like Holly. She ate her hurt and pride to keep her brother from getting fired and possibly going to jail. No wonder she had reacted so strongly to Brad's needling her in public. And no wonder she needed to succeed on her own so much. She had to prove to herself and Brad that she could do it. That she was valuable, even if she'd never be a mother. As long as she didn't involve his sister, he was going to help her solve this case. Her first murder case as a PI. She'd have people fighting to get her to take their cases. He pulled her closer.

She took a breath. “For over two years, Brad stayed away from me and kept his mouth shut. But now he's looking to destroy me.”

Wes didn't like this. “Why? What do you mean?”

“I had a client I did regular background checks for. A manufacturing plant. They suddenly cut me loose when they said they found out I had been asked to leave the sheriff's department.” She turned her head and looked at Wes. “There's only one person who would tell a lie like that.”

“Brad?”

She nodded. “And I think the reason he jumped at representing the women in your book club is to raise his profile.”

He thought about that. The fact that Brad used Holly to put him through law school, then dumped her when she'd lost their child and endured a hysterectomy, would damage him the most where? “He's going to run for political office.”

She shrugged and looked out to the ocean. “It was his long-term plan. So he needs to destroy my credibility. But I'm not going to let that happen. I am a good PI—no, an excellent PI—and I will prove it.”

He smiled over at her. “After you kiss me, then you can prove it.”

 

Holly got into her office in time to answer the phone. “Hillbay Investigations.”

“Still answering your own phone,” Brad said into her ear.

This morning, Holly was in a good mood, so she decided not to slam the phone down. “Why, Brad, how nauseating to hear your voice. Are you dying and calling so I can throw a party?”

“Bitch. I thought I'd give you the heads up that I'm serving your boyfriend official papers this morning at ten-thirty.”

Curiosity got the best of her. “Brockman has lawyers out the wazoo, so why are you telling me?”

“You really are inadequate at your job, aren't you, Holly? Most PIs appreciate professional courtesy.” He hung up.

Holly set the phone down. “Courtesy, my ass. You're up to something. I just bet it has something to do with a camera.” Maybe he leaked the information to the newspapers or local TV news. And he thought getting her there would make her look bad.

But she was going to solve the case, and she was ninety-eight percent sure one of Brad's clients was going down for murder.

Hearing her office door open, she looked up and winced. “What are you wearing?” Holly picked up a big stack of papers and stuff from her desk and walked to the small table in the kitchenette that was doubling as a desk for her assistant.

Tanya grinned and did a little twirl. Her orange and green striped skirt swirled around her legs. Her orange jacket top had a green trim. “It's my version of a power suit.”

“I need shades to look directly at you.” Holly dumped all her notes and papers on the table. There were notes from Tanya and the girls about the O'Man's podcasts, Holly's log sheets, pictures, all the stuff she compiled for cases. “Organize these for me. I want a suspect folder, clues, and notes in some kind of order.”

“Sure.” Tanya opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda. “I heard about Wes's friend George getting shot. That's terrible.”

She grimaced at the memory. “He's okay. He was sore and crabby this morning, but okay. Wes and his two clerks are going to the bookstore today. I'm going to head over there in a little bit, since it looks like Brad Knoll has some kind of show planned. After that, I'm going to go to Riverside to find Ashley Gaines. Will you be okay here?” She hadn't told Wes yet that she was going to Riverside. She'd tell him at the store.

Tanya sank down in a chair and said, “You're leaving me in your office? Alone?”

She grinned at that. “And giving you a key to lock up. Unless that's a problem? It's not like I keep money or my expensive diamonds here.” She went to her desk to get the extra key. “I'll leave you my cell phone number and my dad's number. He helps me out sometimes so he can answer most questions if you can't reach me.”

“Wow, you have a dad. That just sounds so weird.”

Holly couldn't help it, she laughed. “I wasn't hatched from an egg.” Dropping the key on her desk, she added, “Both my dad and brothers are doing a little work on the case, so they may be checking in at the office. Have them call me on my cell if they have information.”

Tanya sat back. “You look different. Softer.”

Holly stared at her. “I do not. I just look normal compared to your blinding outfit.” She went to her desk and got her purse. She checked her gun, fished out her keys, and headed out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, she walked down the street towards Books on the Beach. She was still annoyed by Tanya saying she looked softer. Ex-cops and PIs did not look soft. Stopping at the door to the bookstore, she glanced in the window to see her reflection.

She looked the same. Tough. Satisfied that Tanya was a head case, she went inside the store and stopped in surprise. There had to be ten or fifteen customers milling about. Was that usual for a Monday before lunchtime? Jodi was behind the register while Kelly and Wes helped customers find selections.

Wes spotted her, said something to the older woman he was helping, then walked over to her. “Hey, what's up?”

There was no denying that Wes Brockman was a tasty-looking man. He wore a pale blue shirt that made the green in his eyes look deeper. There were faint tension lines around his mouth, but the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled at her was real. Genuine. And damned if it didn't make her feel softer. “Uh, well, Brad called to tell me that he's serving you with his bogus lawsuit at ten-thirty.”

Wes's smile faded. “I'll handle Knoll. You don't have to be here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why wouldn't I be here? Do you think I can't handle Brad?”

He reached out, cupped the back of her head, and pulled her nose to nose with him. “I know you can handle him. But this is my bookstore, my turf, and I will not be played by that sniveling prick. And I won't stand by and watch him hurt you. I'm on your side, Holly, so deal with it.”

He startled the hell out of her. Wes had a core of absolute steel, but she had been so busy convincing herself that he was a
harmless,
charming, playboy bookseller, she hadn't paid enough attention. But the truth was that Holly couldn't love a man who was too soft. She needed a man who was as strong as she was. And Wes was that and so much more. However, that didn't mean she was going to let him fight her battles. “Back off, book boy. Don't make me hurt you.”

His smile was slow and wicked. “You can try, Hill
baby
, but you'll end up on your back and begging.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why do men turn everything into a sex joke?”

He laughed and let her go.

Holly looked around, trying to find her bearings. “You're pretty busy in here.”

“Yeah, not bad. They're buying books to hide the fact that they're here to get gossip. Word spread that George was shot and I was there. Want some coffee?”

“Hey, Holly.” Kelly walked by with a customer.

“Hi, Kelly. Busy morning, I see.” Holly smiled, then turned back to Wes. “Coffee sounds good. I'll get it if you're busy.”

He leaned close to her. “Hill
baby
, I'm never too busy for you.”

Warm pleasure skimmed along her insides. Jeez, he
was
making her soft. But before she could think of a response, he walked away toward the coffeemaker.

She took a few seconds to admire his butt in his dark slacks. The man had a seriously fine ass. And thighs. And package. And arms. But what she really liked about Wes was…just him.