I need to prepare for Tuesday night, shutting down the emotion choking me because it’s only sex. Nothing else. I’ve experienced enough hook-ups to know better.
Within twenty-four hours of focus, my walls are up.
“I have one of those work meetings,” I say to Dad. I hate lying to him, but the truth is worse. “I’ll be home in a couple of hours.” I place the old flip phone on the armrest of the couch. He knows what to press to contact me. “If you need anything, call me. There’s no problem in my leaving early.”
“I’m fine, love. I’ll watch a bit of news and probably head to bed. All this fitness is wearing me out.”
I chuckle. “Right.” I head out the door, the smile leaving my face, ignoring the sick lurch of nerves in my gut.
Chapter Thirteen
MACY
Screams of laughter come from the ocean. Daylight savings brings longer hours to play under the sun in the surf. Walking the esplanade path, the sun is low, reminding me of a giant ball ready to be swallowed up by the ocean.
Two hours is all I paid for parking, and it’s a five-minute walk from Reef’s penthouse block. The esplanade’s a five-minute distraction.
Preparing myself to meet the elevator gatekeeper, I stall when I enter the lobby near long, tanned legs in a chair. Legs I recognise.
Reef glances up from his phone and stands. His expression serious, business-like. It doesn’t suit him. Blond hair styled as though by the surf, blue eyes with flecks of yellow sparkle. It’s what first attracted me all those months ago. Months where we’d smile and share an occasional comment about the weather when he came to Lombardi’s. Months before I called him and his friends Losers.
I smile first. “Hi.”
In a few long strides, he reaches me.
“Oh,” I stutter when his arms wrap around me and squeeze as though I’m a long-lost friend.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he whispers in my ear. “I was sending you a message.”
“I didn’t think I was late?”
He takes my hand and leads me past the gatekeeper’s desk to the elevator. “You’re not.” He presses the button several times. “You look beautiful.”
My hand rises to my hair. No ponytail. It’s straight, hanging over my shoulders. “Thanks. And you look… edible as always.”
He chuckles. Fetches a note from his shorts pocket. “I wrote this for you to make up for the last one.”
I unfold the note on entering the elevator.
A poem.
I lift my gaze to meet his.
He pushes his hands in his short pockets. “My mum has a thing for poetry. Thinking I’d make her happy, I attempted to create some in high school, mainly about summer, surfing or the ocean. It’s my first to a girl.”
I finish reading it in a few seconds as it’s only three lines. “I think I understand it.”
He chuckles as the doors open. “It’s a Haiku poem.”
“It’s different, I guess.”
He unlocks the door and holds it wide for me to pass into a dimly lit room. “I hoped so after your reaction to my last one. I needed to up my game.”
“So now you’re going to leave me poems at work?”
“If it makes you smile like you are now, then yes.” He locks the door and comes to me. “You need to smile more, Mace. It lights up your whole face.”
Butterflies take off in my stomach, and I lose my train of thought. Compliments are not easy to accept.
“As long as you don’t expect any fancy words from me. What you see is what you get.”
“I know,” he says and smiles. “I worked it out on the first day I saw you at Lombardi’s. The day you hung shit on Bluey.” He pours me cold water, and we take a seat on his long, white leather lounge.
“I don’t remember.” I lift my legs and drape them over his thighs.
“I remember everything,” he says.
My phone vibrates with a call. I answer it fearing it’s Dad, always hoping it’s not. “Sorry, I need to check.” I reach for my phone on the tiles near the lounge. It’s not Dad. An unknown number, so I don’t answer.
“May I?” Reef holds out his hand.
“What?”
“We’re exchanging deets.”
I hesitate before handing him my phone. He holds it up to my face, and I sigh. “You know that’s too damn easy for you to hack my phone.”
Even if I delete his number to resist the urge ever to call, he still has mine. Calling is such a big step to messaging, and I don’t understand why we can’t stick to Instagram messaging.
He types in his digits and listens. I don’t hear his phone and unlike me with mine always close by, I have no clue where his phone is. Satisfied, he keeps tapping. When finished, he hands it to me, grinning.
“What?” I open up calls and the last person listed.
Reef
Sexy AF
I giggle. “You must receive some odd looks with a surname Sexy as Fuck?” I delete it. “First names are adequate.” I’m thankful he’s made light humour of a big step for me.
“Then I won’t tell you what I’m adding for you.” Reef’s eyes meet mine, and I inhale a sharp breath at his intense gaze. Without a doubt, I know what thoughts whirl behind those baby blues. Lifting my leg, he drops it behind him, moves like a cat, slow and light, and then he’s leaning over me. My back on the couch and Reef settling between my thighs leaning close to my face.
“A perfect fit,” he says, settling over me, his face close to mine. “But it’s no surprise.”
“That you fit between my legs?” I giggle once. “Have you noticed the size of my hips?”
His mouth is on mine, kissing me hard. “Every day I notice you,” he says into my mouth. “Fantasise about you.”
“About this?” I smack my rump. “It’s not hard to miss.”
“You have an amazing arse. I can’t wait to watch it as I pound into you from behind.”
I hold his gaze for a moment, and then we’re tearing at each other’s clothes, getting naked fast. My top is yanked over my head and tossed beside his T-shirt on the white tiles. My bra is lost as quickly. My nipples peak at the attention his mouth and tongue give to each equally. Hands. Fingertips. Mouth and lips. The caressing is sending sparks through my core until little groans escape my lips.
“I want you so fucking bad, Mace.” He tugs at my leggings. “I need these off.”
He clambers off, and I get a good view of his erection pushing the band of his shorts begging to be freed. I reach to touch him, only he grabs my forearm and pulls me off the lounge. “Come to my bed.”
Keeping hold of my hand, he leads me to the first room off the main living area. He opens the door to a king-size mattress with a black quilt. He tosses the covers back and sits on the bed. Pulls me close so he can slide my leggings down my thighs.
“Lights.”
He gives me a look. “Hey, Google. Turn the lights to low.”
I step out of each side with a jiggle and allow him to take his fill, while his gaze roams over my bare body. He runs his hands along my waist to my curves. “I don’t know what part of you I want to take first?”