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“I do, but my best friend isn’t the slightest bit impressed.” I smiled. I drove under the underpass that led to a private garage.
Penelope grabbed my baseball cap and sunglasses from the backseat and handed them to me. “Here. I don’t want to risk too many women trying to distract you.”
“The beach on this side is empty.” I motioned for her to follow me across the lane and down to the sand.
We walked in silence for the first half-mile, with nothing but the sound of waves slapping the shore between us.
“You should get laid soon,” she said out of nowhere.
“Excuse me?”
“You haven’t had sex in months and I think it’s affecting you on a deeper level.”
“This coming from a woman who consistently fakes it in bed?”
“My moans are real.”
“Your orgasms aren’t.”
“I’m just saying.” She looked up at me. “You’re a lot more easygoing when you’re getting laid. Speaking of which, does your seven date rule apply for me and Simon since I already know who he is?”
“I think you can fuck him whenever you want,” I said. “However, knowing you, you’ll probably wait until he tells you that he cares about you.”
“If that was the case, I would’ve slept with you a long time ago.”
“Penelope, you and I wouldn’t be compatible in bed.”
“Because your ego would be bruised when you realized I’m faking it?”
“You wouldn’t be faking it with me.”
“I think every guy says that.”
“I think I mean that.” I stopped walking and stared at her.
Then, because I needed a reason to get into the ocean and hide my hard-on, I picked her up and tossed her into an oncoming wave.
“Seriously?” She laughed and screamed, swallowing a mouthful of saltwater.
“You deserved that,” I said. “Any other bad, hot takes you want to share?”
“I think you’re all bark and no bite when it comes to how good you are in bed.”
I pushed her into a wave again and joined her in the water.
As she attacked me with armfuls of heavy splashes, I realized that getting her into this water was a terrible idea.
Her bikini top was thin enough for me to see her nipples through the fabric.
Fuck.
She suddenly kicked a huge splash of water onto my face, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“I’m going to make you regret that.” I picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder with ease. Then I threw her down into the water again and again.
When she finally surrendered, she climbed onto my back.
“You can’t possibly pick me up and throw me into the water this way, Penelope.”
“I’m not trying to.” She wrapped her legs around my waist from behind. Then she pressed her breasts against my back.
“I think I sprained my ankle,” she said. “Can you carry me for a little while?”
Can you promise to stop being so obliviously fucking sexy? “Of course.”
By the time we made it to my rental house, we were both soaking wet, and my Hamptons’ contact was pulling a car into the driveway for my return trip to New York.
Setting Penelope down near the pool, I handed her a few towels.
“Unless you want to show up to his event drenched, there’s a dryer in the back.”
“I know.” She dabbed her face. “I’ll shower first.”
“If he doesn’t offer to take you home, call me and I’ll come back,” I said. “But then you’ll have to immediately stop talking to him. If he’s truly into you after all this time, he’ll want to spend as much time with you as possible.”
“Noted.” She stepped back, and I tried not to stare too hard at her nipples.
Are they hard?
“Also,” I said, crossing my arms, “just in case he does take you home, and you start penning your fairytale later tonight, do not call me to recap his party.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because whenever we’re on the phone mid-recap, the guy typically guys calls you, Penelope,” I said, heading toward the door. “Let him call you and talk to him first. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Well, thank you for everything. You’re being quite the gentleman today.”
No, I’m showing impressive restraint.
Nine (B)
PRESENT DAY
I shook the sand from my shoes the following morning, smiling as I remembered how sweet Simon was to me yesterday.
Honestly, his second party wasn’t much to write home about. All of his executive buddies drank beers and relaxed on beach chairs while he introduced me to them one by one.
His insistence on the introductions was the type of not-so-subtle approach that Hayden often called the ‘See how hot my girl is?’ move.” It was a silent power play, but it boded well for us since I knew he wasn’t trying to downplay his interest in me while in front of his friends.
Making sure the last of the sand was gone, I put on my shoes and grabbed my bag.
“I’ll be back, Tatiana!” I called out. “I’ll bring you back a muffin!”
