Lifting her easily, I place her on the seat and squeeze into my spot in front of her. When I hear the click of her helmet, that’s when I put mine on. Her arms circle around me, and I caress her arm with my fingers one last time before I jet out of the parking lot and onto the road.
I pass the flamingo pink motel we are staying in on the left, right on the water as I promised, and a ping of guilt hits me. I should have sprung for something nicer. This motel doesn’t seem like the nicest around and she deserves that.
The first surf shop I see isn’t far from the motel, so I pull into their parking lot and notice they are a store that has everything. Clothes, food, gas, and whatever else.
“What’s my allowance?” she questions, hopping off the bike.
“Allowance?”
“Yeah, like what am I allowed to spend?”
Damn, that fucker gave her an allowance? I can’t wait to get my hands on him.
“No allowance, Cupcake. You get what you want. I have the cash. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
She gives me a skeptical expression, a brow lifted in uncertainty as if she wants to believe me but has her doubts.
“Come on.” I hold out my hand to her and drag her to the front entrance. It’s a nice place for being on the beach with all the foot traffic it gets. The outside has huge, tinted windows with yellow and red ‘sale’ signs out front with boogie boards, noodles, skim boards, and floats. There’s a heavy trail of sand from the parking lot to the entrance where people have come in from the beach.
I point at one of the signs. “Look, Cupcake. Buy one get one bikinis. You’re going to get all of them, right? Model them for me?” I wink and her pale cheeks fire to a bright red, which has her freckles turning a shade darker too.
“I can get a few swimsuits?”
God, I hate how timid she seems right now, as if I’m about to pull the rug out from under her.
When we get inside the store, she shivers again from the air conditioning, and I drag her into the nearest aisle where the beach magnets with everyone’s name are. “I’m not lying when I say I want you to get whatever you want. There are no strings here. No false promises. No anger. No resentment. There’s just me and you. We’re going to enjoy the beach and you’re going to get whatever you want and I’m going to sit back and watch you be happy, okay?”
She nods, but I need to hear words. I lift her chin like I always do so she meets my eyes.
“Words, Cupcake.”
“Okay, Whistler. I’ll trust you.”
My smile makes her grin, and I bop the tip of her nose, something I’ve never done to a woman before, but with her, I seem to do it all the time. “Come on, then. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can catch a quick nap and hit the beach when the sun is at its highest.”
She squeals and runs off. I swear I hear the cartoon noise from the roadrunner she hurries from me so quickly.
While she shops, I hang back and give her some space. I don’t want her to feel like I’m hovering, but I do stay close enough where I can see her. I chuckle when I see she already has a huge pile in her hands and the sales representative comes and must offer her a dressing room because Charlie hands over all her items before cruising through another rack.
I’m simple. I grab a few plain shirts and even get a little fancy one that says “California” along the chest. I add two swimsuits to my pile, both black. I’ll save all the color for my Cupcake over there who is buying the entire rainbow.
I pass the section that has towels and grab a tie-dye one I know she’ll like, a black one for me, a purple one for her, and a green towel for me. That’s enough. If we need more, I’ll come back and buy some.
Charlie has another mound of clothes in her arms, and I wonder if she’s testing me to see if I’ll get upset with everything she’s picked. I really don’t care. I want her to have everything. Half of her face is visible as she peeks up at me through those long lashes.
“Hey there, Cupcake. Finding everything you need?”
“Maybe. I need your opinion on some things. Will you wait outside the fitting room?” She fumbles with the clothes in her hands and half of them drop onto the floor.
“Yeah, Cupcake. I’d love to have my own private show. Thanks for asking.” I blow her a kiss and bend down to gather the dresses and swimsuits.
Oh.
Fuck.
Me.
I lift up the tiny shred of material. It’s a one-piece, I think. I’m not sure since there isn’t a lot of material to it. It has a deep V that cuts into the middle of the swimsuit and the back…
I growl when I see the skinny thong that will ease between her plump cheeks. I bet this is a test. She’s never been able to wear what she wants. Men can look all they want at what is mine, but if they touch her, well, all bets are off.
I’ll be swinging my bat until their heads come clean off.
My bats are special and not expensive. I also do something different with them than other people do.
I add nails through the body, and I’ll replace the bat when the nails eventually fall out, which happens after I swing it one too many times.
“Does this come in more colors?” The words are deep and husky. The sick part of me wants one for myself so I can wrap it around my cock and stroke myself while I think of her wearing it.
“You don’t like that color? It’s black. You like black, right?” she sounds so unsure as she holds the clothes to her chest.
“You got this for me?” the animalistic rumble in my throat has her eyes rounding to moons.
“Um, yes?” She toes the ground.
“I want this suit in every color. Where did you get it?”
She points to the rack behind me, and I snarl as I hurriedly finger through the rack, grabbing every color I see. Pink. Green. Yellow. Orange. Neon colors too.
And then there aren’t anymore.
Why am I so sad about this?
“Whistler, that’s so many swimsuits. I don’t even know if I’ll ever have the courage to wear something like that.”
“And when you do, I’m going to pull up a chair and watch you spin around for me because Cupcake, this is the kind of swimsuit that brings a man to his knees. You get that, right?”
She stays quiet for a minute, and I take the opportunity to walk her to the fitting room. I slide the curtain aside, drop all the swimsuits on the bench and stalk out, dragging a chair from the room next to us and plop it right in front of Charlie’s so I don’t miss one outfit.
“Will it bring you to your knees?”
“What, Cupcake?”
“The swimsuit. Will it bring you to your knees?”
Christ, this woman is going to be the death of me.
I lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees as she pinches the red curtain between her fingers, staring at the frayed seam. “Charlie, I haven’t even seen you wearing it and I’m on my knees for you. Hell, I’m crawling for you, Charlie. Whether you get the swimsuits or not, I’m a fucking goner.” I might as well answer honestly, right?
I’d crawl over broken glass and burning coals just to have one glance at her.
“You’re so…”
Intense? Passionate? A bit obsessive?
I know.
“Amazing,” she finishes and slides the curtain shut.