Page 35 of Sand in My Boots

“Are you showering? I could join you . . . ”

Assessing the time, I probably should shower, but if she steps a toe in with me, I’ll be behind the entire day. “Later, gorgeous.”

“Don’t forget you promised me a trip to your home.”

“Haven’t forgotten it, considering you reminded me a dozen times.” I slide yesterday’s shorts on my legs before the shirt.

“You ever done the walk of shame at the resort before?” The question catches me off guard, and she quickly follows up with, “Nope, don’t answer that. I’m certain I don’t want to know.”

Good, because I don’t want to lie. Though I’ve never had a repeat performance, something I intend to break tonight.

“See you for breakfast. Bring your appetite. The buffet is appetizing.”

The sheet wrapped around her body, she joins me on the floor. The light from the living room illuminates her face, her natural beauty on full display. Leaving the light on and the door open was our compromise to her “night-light” situation. I must have been exhausted when I fell asleep because I usually need it pitch black. It didn’t hurt I had someone to cuddle.

Juli wraps her arm around my waist, pushing up on tiptoes. “See you later, Came.”

“Still?” I wonder. “After yesterday, you’re still going to use it?”

“It’s too good not to. But yesterday’s performance certainly made up for your shortcomings of the past.” She giggles, faint lines showing around her eyes. “Kiss me before you leave.”

Not one to disobey her request, I lean in, meeting her halfway, melding our mouths into one. Her tongue seeks entrance into my open mouth, and it mimics the blow job from last night. My hands grab her ass, cupping the globes in my fingers as our mouths duel.

As much as I enjoy the kiss, I’m going to be late, and I’d rather not show up to work with a semi.

I release her first, freeing my mouth. “Later. All of this and more later.”

“Fine. If you must. Go do all the work things.”

I chuckle at the way her lips pout. “If you want me for the rest of the time you’re here, I have to make sure things will run in my absence. Otherwise, I’ll have to show up more.”

Which will happen anyway. Thank goodness work is literally right outside the door of her suite.

One last chaste kiss, and I’m out the door. About halfway to the front building, Zane, our fourth owner and resident chef, catches up with me.

“Why are you here so early? Get dressed in the dark? Shirt’s on backward.” My eyes fall to the front of my shirt, which is indeed the back. Beside me, Zane snickers. “Was she good?”

No way am I answering that out loud.

Of course, she was good. Better than good. Every time was better than the time before, our connection deepening. Which reminds me . . . I have to make a stop at the store for more condoms. The one box of three she secured last night will only go so far.

“I’m not sure how to read your silence.”

“Fuck off.”

A snort rumbles from my side. “At least fix your shirt before you get inside. Don’t need any of the guests making any assumptions. Unless you’re in the market for more rooms to depart in the wee hours of the morning.”

“Why are you freaking chipper this early in the morning?”

Like me, the bastard chooses not to answer my question. But at least it shuts him up.

In silence, we finish our walk to the front building. He follows me through the sliding glass doors, but we part ways in the lobby. For him, I’m not sure where he’s going, but I head to my office. Up the stairs behind the reception desk and down the hallway, my door’s still closed. I give a nod to the other two co-owners as I pass by their open office doors.

Shutting my door after entering, I quickly fix my shirt and run my fingers through my hair. I smile as I’m reminded of how Juli’s fingers twined in the short strands multiple times over the course of the past eighteen hours.

I have the smallest office, but since I spend little time here, I’ve never minded. It’s big enough for a desk, a rolling chair, and one filing cabinet. The dark wood walls are mostly bare, save for a couple of photos of me on the water in various capacities and two of the owners of Whispering Tide—one taken on opening day, the other from STEM Camp nearly two decades ago, where the four of us first met.

I take a seat in the chair, booting up my desktop. I jot a note to grab my laptop from my house so I can log in if the situation arises. The computer turned on, I bring up the recreation schedule for the resort.