“Wait… I didn’t say I was going.”
“Yes, you did. You said you’d buy your own plane ticket. I’m all for equality, but I’m buying meals and a few skimpy bikinis for you to wear.”
“But I didn’t say—”
I shut her up with my mouth on hers. When I come up for air, she’s in a daze, because our kissing is just that good.
“Say you’ll come with me,” I murmur. “I don’t want to be away from you next week.”
I can see her melt, her smile turning gooey and her legs lifting to wrap around my waist. She reaches up, tugs at a lock of my hair, and whispers, “It’s a good thing you’re charming and cute. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be going.”
“It’s the promise of orgasms that changed your mind, admit it,” I counter.
She doesn’t respond, but merely slips her hands behind my neck and draws my lips down to hers.
CHAPTER 16
Wylde
I have to give it to Brooke and Bishop. They picked an amazing spot for a destination wedding. The resort is remote and exclusive, spread out over a jutting peninsula off the main island of St. John and on the edge of the Virgin Islands National Park.
Bishop described the place as low key and unplugged, noting there is Wi-Fi, but it’s spotty and only accessible from higher ground. There are no TVs in any of the rooms, but plenty of hammocks to lounge in scattered around the one-hundred-acre property.
As a member of a championship hockey team, Bishop can afford the luxury. As such, he paid an exorbitant fee to reserve the resort for the entire week for their wedding party and friends who would be making the trip. Given the size of our team, coaching staff, and support personnel who were invited—including the entire administrative and marketing departments since Brooke worked there herself—my understanding is this wedding managed to fill the entire place almost to capacity.
Despite such extravagances, I’d been amused when Bishop told me that beyond picking this place for their destination wedding, they’d made very few other choices. They’d left it to the expert staff to plan the food and wedding festivities, including choices for the cake, flowers, and decorations for the seaside ceremony that would take place on a cliff overlooking the brilliant aqua waters of Caneel Bay.
The main building where we check-in is bright and airy, with all the doors and windows open to let in the island breeze. There are potted palms and tropical arrangements placed all around to give the interior that lush jungle feel.
Beside me, Clarke couldn’t look any more out of place. I think she’s somewhat in shock over the luxury being bestowed upon her. She was agog we flew first class—her first time ever—and the opulence of this resort has her a bit quiet right now.
We wait in a short line at the reception desk to check-in, right behind Pepper and Legend. They’re both on FaceTime with Legend’s parents, who flew into Phoenix for the week to watch their granddaughter, Charlie. I don’t know Charlie’s exact date of birth, but she has to be about six months old by now. Over Legend’s shoulder, I can see her cute baby cheeks on the screen of the phone as he and Pepper coo and make baby talk.
The single guy with no interest in thinking about kids at this point in his life would think they’re beyond foolish acting, but the man who knows exactly how precious that kid is would never begrudge them one ounce of baby talk. Legend had, unbeknownst to him, gotten a woman, who turned out to be a little nutso in the head, pregnant. She dropped the baby—that would be Charlie—off on his doorstep with a note saying she couldn’t take care of an infant anymore, which is how Legend became a father.
Later, Pepper became her mother, the adoption being formally finalized just last month after Charlie’s birth mother signed away her parental rights. Of course, the woman’s in prison for trying to kill Pepper, but that’s a whole other story.
I lean down to put my mouth close to Clarke’s ear. “What do you want to do after we check-in?” I ask, leaning in a tiny bit closer so I can brush my lips against her neck. She has her hair up in a ponytail, and I can’t resist the bare skin there. Clarke jumps slightly, turning her head to smirk. I give her a wink. “We could test out the resiliency of the mattress in our room?”
She snorts, crosses her arms over her chest as if irritated, and takes a firm step away from me.
She can play offended all she wants, but I know she likes that idea very much. Granted, while she worked her ass off over the past three days to get the store in good-enough shape to entrust the keys to her best friend, Clarke’s downtime was spent flat on her back and underneath me. I honestly have never had so much sex in such a short period of time, but I swear it’s like the fucking dam has broken. I cannot contain the raging lust for this woman that she’s set free.
“Or,” I suggest, shuffling closer and putting my arm around her waist. “We could hit the beach. Just relax for the afternoon. Maybe drink a few fruity cocktails.”
Clarke giggles, nestling into my side. She angles her face slightly, speaking from the side of her mouth in a low murmur, “I like the testing-the-mattress idea best.”
“That’s my girl,” I praise, pressing my lips to the top of her flame-colored head.
I hear the chorus of female laughter long before the group comes into view. Clarke and I turn that way, seeing Willow, Regan, and Brooke strolling through the lobby. They’ve clearly settled in nicely, all three wearing summery dresses that show a lot of bare shoulders and legs. Each carries a frothy-looking drink with an umbrella in it.
Regan’s eyes land on Clarke and me, and she smiles broadly in welcome. “Oh my God,” Regan exclaims as they redirect over our way, focused only on Clarke. She looks inquisitive. “How in the world did this guy talk you into coming so last minute?”
Clarke blushes, remembering exactly how I convinced her, but she merely shrugs while playing it off. “Oh, a free vacation to a tropical island. Wasn’t much of a choice, right?”
Willow and Brooke move in, each lady pulling Clarke into a warm hug of welcome.
“Listen,” Regan says, reaching out and taking Clarke by the wrist. “We have a spa appointment booked in about forty-five minutes. I know we can get you added. Come spend the afternoon getting pampered with us.”
I glare at Regan, and she must feel the weight of it. She shoots me a smirk before giving her attention back to Clarke to entice her further. “Manis, pedis, facials, and massages. An afternoon of pure indulgence.”
Yup… going to kill Regan, as she’s going way overboard. I had sent a text to the guys the day after Clarke agreed to come with me, asking if they’d ask their women to pay some attention to Clarke so she would feel included instead of like an outsider. It’s a request I probably didn’t have to make as the Vengeance women are all sweet, kind, and overly generous with their time and concern.
Still, Regan’s now interfering with my plans to spend an indulgent afternoon of my own with Clarke in our room. And these resort rooms are off the hook, each with their own private balconies and a half-indoor/half-outdoor lap pool and hot tub. Water is going to be our new best friend in our sexcapades.
Clarke tips her face my way, eyebrows raised in question. I doubt she’s ever treated herself to a facial or a massage. Not that she’s broke—though she’s frugal because she needs to be while owning her own business—but mainly because she rarely takes the time to do nice things for herself.