Одри Карлан - January (Calendar Girl #1)

Wes laughed out loud beside me. “She’s right, dude,” Wes said. I was a little taken aback by his use of the very Californian word. Not that Wes wasn’t a cool guy, he was. Very much so. It’s just, he’s always had a bit of formality.

“Sorry Mia. My deepest apologies, but I wanted to make sure the suit would fit.” He handed me a black wetsuit.

After repeated attempts at getting myself into the impossibly tight wetsuit, which I dubbed my Cat Woman suit, we finally got the sucker on and in place. My boobs were smashed against my chest and the neoprene fabric. I wanted nothing more than to unzip the top and let those babies loose! Looking down at myself, I couldn’t help but snicker. The suit reminded me of catwoman from Batman Returns . I felt ridiculous even though Wes’s heated gaze told me I did not ‘in fact’ look ridiculous. More like he was ready to rip the sucker right off me. Amil however didn’t appreciate the lack of attention we were giving to his surf instruction. I just wanted to get out there and try this damn thing already!

Finally Amil was done with his “art of surfing” instruction and Wes led me down the beach. He held his surfboard and mine as we trudged through the sand. “I can carry my own board, you know?”

His eyes twinkled as the sun caught them. “I’m certain there’s a lot of things you can do, sweetheart. But, I wouldn’t feel like a man if I didn’t help my girl. Besides, you’re being a really good sport.”

His girl?

Did he just say that?

“My girl?” I asked before the thought could turn into something wickedly emotional.

He grinned. “Yeah, you know what I mean.” He shrugged.

Um, no, I fucking didn’t know what he meant. Just as I was about to dig further into this landmine, Amil interrupted us.

“Okay, we’re going to do some paddling and practical lessons out there on the calmer section of water.”

“Come on, don’t be a scairdy cat,” he said, adding a mutilated meow sound for effect. Men just can’t make kitty noises. They end up sounding more like an animal dying than a cute little furball.

As I was about to protest, Wes smacked my ass hard and pushed me forward towards the ocean. He was a perfect gentleman in the ocean, though. He helped lead me to the appropriate area in the water as well as worked with me on the positions, poses, and the balancing I was attempting. We decided I should attempt to get up on my knees first and get the hang of it before attempting to stand.

Once the newness and nerves wore off, I found I could actually ride small waves when on my belly. It took over an hour to get up on my knees, but I couldn’t have been more proud of myself. As I was on my knees riding a wave, I could hear Wes hooting and hollering. I’d never felt more pride in myself than in that moment. Usually, I was cheering on my sister, Maddy, or my best friend, Ginelle, and her dancing. Even when I was in contemporary dance and had kickass performances I still didn’t feel this sense of accomplishment. Maybe now it was because of the tall six-foot plus hunk waiting on the shore as I paddled in. His surfboard was sticking straight out of the ground. I shuffled towards him, dropping my board on the sand as I ran further up the shore.

“Did you see it?” I screamed with glee as I ran toward him.

“Of course I did! It was awesome! You’re a natural, sweetheart,” he said with open arms. I barreled into his chest knocking us both to the ground. Instantly, his lips were on mine, his hands in my wet hair holding me to him. He tasted of salt and the sea. Magical. We continued making out for a few minutes before we were interrupted by a deep, throat-clearing cough. Wes’s hands had moved from my head and were firmly gripping my ass, his erection pressing right where I wanted it most. We pulled apart slowly, both of us panting and smiling like loons to see the laughing face of Amil.

Wes helped me up and pulled me close, our wetsuits mashed together. “You were great,” he said with pride, sliding a thumb along my check before giving me a soft peck on the lips.

“Thank you for teaching me. Can we come back?” I asked, excited at the prospect of battling the waves again.

“For you, anything. My sweet Mia.”

***

Week three of my stay was filled with more boring business dinners and another swanky event. I didn’t mind the events so much. It was nice moseying around, eating delectable treats and drinking expensive champagne and wine, but it wasn’t exactly fun. Wes spent those evenings deep in conversation, working the room like the businessman he was.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t have time for a real relationship. The woman who commits to him is going to spend a lot of time alone. He’ll need a woman who has a full life and career and is also happy to be his midnight girl—mostly available when he gets home, for a late night fuck and cuddle before falling into dreamland to then start all over again in the morning. A swift pang pierced my gut at the thought of Wes with another woman. Falling in love, getting married, having children, living happily ever after while I continued doing what? Being an escort?

I set down the puff pastry I picked up, and instead, chugged the entire rest of my glass of champagne.

“Wow, easy there, speed racer,” Wes said as he hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me to his side. “You trying to get drunk?” His eyes narrowed but the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth confirmed the playful intent.

“Why? You gonna take advantage of me if I am?” I asked with a saucy lilt and firm press of my tits into his chest.

He sucked in a breath, clasped me fully to his chest, then looked down. “Abso-fucking-lutely,” he said with no humor whatsoever. Just the insinuation of him taking me dampened my panties.

“Don’t turn me on. It’s not fair when you have business to attend to.” I pouted and kissed the side of his neck making sure to drag my lips along the column.

He groaned low in his throat and pressed his hips against me so that I could feel the heat and strength of his desire. “How the hell am I going to let you go in eight short days?” His eyes and the firm set of his jaw emphasized the serious nature of his statement.

I sucked in a sharp breath and looked intently into his eyes. The ones I had come to adore beyond all others. “It is what it is. What it has to be,” I reminded him.

He leaned forward and touched our foreheads together. “But what if I don’t want it to be?” He said the one thing that both of us agreed should remain unspoken. The thought, the mere suggesting of more, went against everything we’d negotiated when I signed the contract. It also had the potential for breaking the rules he’d set up that very first time we slept together over two weeks ago.

“Don’t,” I whispered, and he took in a slow breath then let it out. I could feel the moist warmth against the wetness of my lips.

“Okay, I won’t,” he said with a finality that spoke of his renewed commitment to keep this as it was meant to be. As it had to be.

There was no other option for me. Even if I wanted more, which I couldn’t wrap my head around right now, it wasn’t possible. I still needed a million dollars, and my dad still needed saving. There wasn’t anyone else but me to make that happen. I wouldn’t risk his life for the whisper of a chance at happiness. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I chose my own happiness over the life of my father. Regardless of the fact that he’s a drunk, that he spent too much of his time gambling and drinking away our financial stability, he was still one of the only people who truly loved me. And I’d never forsake it. Not even for Wes, as much as the thought filled my mind, heart, and soul with hope, it was not meant to be. I had a job to do, and I’d do it, or die trying.