Одри Карлан - January (Calendar Girl #1)

The rest of the afternoon went off without a hitch. Claire and Weston, the Second, along with Jeananna and her husband, Peter, shared story after story of Wes as a baby and growing up in the Channing family. I laughed more in that afternoon than I had in the last year. The lighthearted vibe was almost too much to bear for someone like me who never had a real family unit myself. It had always been my drunk father, and my baby sister, Maddy, who I spent most of my childhood and teen years raising. Even though I knew Daddy loved us more than anything, he could never stop his gambling or drinking away the memories of what our life had been when Mom was around.

When we left, Claire made Wes promise to bring me back next Sunday. He agreed. As we made our way to his Jeep, he hugged me to his side and planted a sweet kiss on my lips. “That was fun, you know?”

I smiled back, warmth filled my heart to bursting. “It was. One of the best days I’ve had in a long time. Thank you for bringing me.”

He grinned and winked. “Anytime, sweetheart. They liked you.”

I buckled up and looked out the window as he drove out the gates back down the winding road out of their posh neighborhood.

“I liked them. Very much. You have a cool family. You’re lucky.”

His lips turned down into a frown. “What’s your family like?” he asked so softly I could barely hear him over the sound of the wind whipping my hair around.

Leaning back, I watched the beach in the distance and the waves crashing over the shore. “My sister Maddy is amazing. She’s brilliant. Going to be a scientist. I spent most of my time growing up taking care of her.”

“Where were your parents?”

“Parent,” I corrected. His eyes shot to mine briefly. Within them I could see remorse and sadness. Not for himself, but for me. I turned away. “My mom was a showgirl in Vegas. Left my Dad and us girls when I was ten, Maddy only five.”

Wes worried his thumb nail but kept his eyes on the road. “She never came back?”

“Nope,” I shook my head. “And because of that, my dad started drinking. A lot. Gambling, even more.”

He grabbed my hand and twined our fingers together before pulling it against his lips kissing the top of my hand. “Is that why you’re doing what you’re doing?”

I could’ve lied and told him some made up bullshit story, but that would’ve ruined what we had—the complete and perfect honesty we’d come to rely on in order to make this situation work for us both. Instead of responding, I just nodded.

“Want to tell me about it?” His tone was soft and pleading.

It was too soon. I wasn’t ready to share my burden with someone. He was such a good guy he’d just want to fix it. Pay off the debt or something crazy. It’s my problem. My father and my own constant desire to save him. I have to be the one to do this.

“Will you tell me someday?”

“Yes,” and that was as much as I could promise for now.

Chapter 6

“Wake up, sweetheart,” I heard right before the tingling burn of Wes’s hand met the bare skin of my ass.

“Jesus, Christ,” I jumped up grabbing at the comforter to cover my unmentionables. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled.

I was greeted with a grin instead of an apology. “Come on, get your suit on and some comfy clothes. We’re hitting the beach!” Wes exclaimed, clearly thrilled with the prospect of a new day and visiting the coast.

He’d been working his ass off the past week. I only saw him late in the evening, excluding one unbearably boring business dinner. Though in the meantime, I’ve had lunch with Jennifer Underwood, the director’s wife on his current movie, and Wes’s mother, Claire. Everyone seems to be taking things in stride. Wes didn’t have a problem with it either. Said it was great I was making new friends while he was busy. He seemed to be more concerned with me being bored all day rather than the potential blurring of any emotional lines by me hanging out with his family and getting close to his coworker’s wife.

“What do you mean we’re going to the beach? You realize it’s January and cold as hell?” I pulled the comforter over my head and slouched back into the cozy hidey hole it offered.

I felt the mattress dip, caging me in. Wes pulled the blankets off my head and did a ninja-like maneuver getting both of my hands locked over my head with one hand. He leaned down and kissed me, slow, wet, and so deep my toes curled. The space between my thighs started to heat and throb. Jesus, the man could kiss. He pulled the blanket further down and nudged at my nipples, first with his nose, then pulling one tip into his mouth, drawing from it.

“Now, this is how you wake a girl,” I said through a low moan.

He rewarded me with deep, penetrating suction from his mouth against my breast. “I’ll remember that next time. If I get you off, will you be in a better mood?” His tongue came out and flicked just the tip of my nipple while playing with it. The fingers of his other hand plucked and twisted my breast’s twin.

I nodded dumbly, too lost in the sensation that was building, a slow burn that made me weak and incapable of speech.

He chuckled against my breast. “If I put my mouth on you, give you the relief you seek, will you do what I say?”

It was impossible to deny him. With his mouth and fingers worshipping my tits, I couldn’t help but give him anything he asked. “Yes, God yes!” I moaned. His head moved from my breast down my ribs where he bit and nibbled, along the center of my abdomen, until he was there . Right there, giving me all that I wanted and more. Wes could have been a gold medalist in the art of cunnilingus. He knew exactly when to give, when to bite, nip, suck, lick. And he did it with finesse. .

Bite.

Nip.

Suck.

Lick.

Followed by a swirl and flattening his tongue as he rubbed around the center of my pleasure over and over until I broke. My body arched, hands flying into his hair to hold him against my wet flesh. He growled as he ate, lost in the moment as much as I was. Possibly even more by the way he plunged his cock into me.

We didn’t make it to the beach for another hour.

When we arrived, we were met by another man, a surf instructor named Amil.

“You brought me here so I could watch you guys surf?” I asked immediately after shaking the hand of Mr. Surftastic. My tone was not pleasant.

Wes looked at Amil, then at me, and grinned. His smirk was mischievous, and I knew in that moment that I was in for it.

“No, as a matter of fact, I brought you here because we are going to surf. Amil is going to help me show you the ropes. He also has all the equipment and ladies’ wetsuits. He runs the Surf Shack farther down the beach.” He pointed to a spot far off on the horizon.

I looked at Wes, his blond hair blowing in the chilly morning air. A sparkle in his green eyes made them look almost emerald in the early light of day. He was as sweet on the eyes as the heavenly waves hitting the beach.

“You’re serious then?”

He nodded and gestured to Amil. The instructor turned around, giving me an amazing view of his tanned muscled back, and pulled out a wetsuit that looked to be about my size. “Should fit. You’re what, five ten, a hundred and forty pounds?”

“Five nine, and didn’t your mother teach you that you don’t ever discuss weight with a woman?”

Amil shook his head and laughed. “Can’t say that she did.”

“She fell down on her job,” I said deadpan. “It’s rude, and women hate it. You married?” He shook his head. “Girlfriend?” He shook his head again, still grinning. “Case in point.” I clapped my hands together as if I’d just proven Einstein’s theory of relativity.