Easy Magic

  “You’re so fucking hard,” I reply and clutch the bedsheets in my fists above my head so I don’t try to reach out and touch him. This isn’t going to last long, for either of us.

  He pulls out, then flips me over, jerking my hips into the air and slips back inside me once more. His hands are firmly holding my hips, controlling the speed and the depth of his lovemaking. He slips his thumb down the crack of my ass and lays it lightly over my anus, barely touching me, but it’s enough to send me into overdrive.

  “Fuck,” I groan.

  “Too much?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Don’t stop.”

  Not only does he not stop, he picks up the pace, thrusting harder and harder, until all I can do is cry out with my climax, and smile as he also cries out, then kisses his way up my spine until he reaches my neck.

  “We’re not done.”

  “No?”

  “No.” He takes the blindfold off and collapses next to me, brushes my hair off my face, and I’m finally able to look around.

  It’s all a mess. My hair, the bed, my thoughts.

  Life.

  It’s a wonderful, glorious mess.

  Chapter Eleven

  ~Mallory~

  The blue scarf is tied around my head, holding my hair back from the whirl of the wind as Beau drives me down Interstate 1, from Miami to Key West.

  “How long will we be over the water?” I ask again, slipping my sunglasses on.

  “For a while,” he replies and squeezes my hand, as if to comfort me.

  “That’s not natural,” I reply and take a deep breath. “What if the bridge gives out?”

  “It won’t,” he says.

  “How do you know?” I demand.

  “Well, I’m quite sure it was engineered by intelligent people, not to mention, it’s been here for a long time, and it’s designed to not give out.”

  “All bridges are designed to not give out. Doesn’t mean they don’t.”

  He squeezes my hand again and tosses me a cocky smile. “Take a breath and enjoy the view, sugar. Most people don’t ever get a 360 degree view of the ocean without being on a boat or in a plane.”

  “It is pretty,” I concede and watch the water zoom past us. Beau rented a convertible Mercedes. At least, I assume he rented it. It was waiting for us at the airport this morning. I settle back against the soft leather seat and watch as a school of dolphins swim past, as if they’re popping up out of the water to say hello. “I’ve never seen dolphins before.”

  “You’ll see plenty of them this weekend,” he replies. “Our cottage is on the beach.”

  “Thank you for bringing me,” I say for the fiftieth time since this morning. We’ve only been gone for nine hours, but every part of this trip has been something new and fun. Riding in the private jet, being sent shopping with his credit card while he was in a meeting—even though I didn’t buy anything, and now driving down to a cottage on the beach in Key West.

  “Thank you for coming along. I know it’s not easy to drop everything on a moment’s notice.”

  “It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. Shelly and Lena jumped at the chance to cover for me.” I smirk. “I guess I needed a little time away more than I realized.”

  “Is there anything specific you’d like to do while we’re here?”

  “I’ve always heard of Ernest Hemingway’s house, and all of his polydactyl cats. I’d like to see that.”

  He smiles over at me, then turns his gaze back to the highway.

  “I know, not a very sexy thing to do. I’m a book nerd.”

  “You are?” He grins, surprised.

  “Oh yeah. The things I’ve seen are nothing compared to what’s in fiction.”

  “And I have a feeling that you’ve seen quite a bit.”

  I smile and shrug, enjoying the way the wind feels on my face, and not doing too bad at forgetting that I’m hovering over the deep, blue ocean.

  “I’ve seen my fair share. But it’s fun to lose myself in a book. I just don’t get the chance to as often as I’d like.”

  “Okay, Hemingway’s house is on the list. What else?”

  “Why do I have to make all of the decisions?”

  “Because this weekend is for you.”

  I blink and glance over at him as he switches lanes, enjoying his sharp jawline and the way the wind ruffles through his thick, dark hair.

  “I thought it was a work weekend?” I shift in my seat, facing him.

  “It was a work day,” he says and smiles over at me, making my heart lurch just a bit. “And then you agreed to join me, making the rest of the time about you.”

  “Hmm.” I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know if there’s ever been a time in my life that a man has made anything about me. And I don’t know if that reflects on me, or the men I’ve been with in the past.

  “What are you thinking?” Beau asks.

  “That I don’t know what else to put on our list.”

  He pulls my hand up to his lips, still watching the road. “Well, you just think about it and let me know. We don’t have to do anything at all, if you don’t want to. We can sit on the beach and soak up some sun all weekend.”

  “Well, I think at least one day of that is important,” I reply, thankful that I found a super cute swimsuit to bring with us.

  “I was thinking that we could take a short cruise this evening.”

  “Like, on a big cruise ship?”

  “No, on a sailboat. We keep one down here.”

  “We do?”

  “The family.”

  “Wait. You didn’t rent the cottage, did you?”

  He shakes his head. “No, we own it.”

  “Your family owns it.”

  “Yes.” He frowns over at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I sigh and tip my face up to the sunshine. “I’m just still getting used to how wealthy you are. You’re down to earth, fun, sexy, and then we go somewhere or you say something, and it’s like a glass of cool water in my face.”

  “The money is just a result of generations of hard work,” he says reasonably, completely comfortable with this conversation.

  “I understand that, and I don’t begrudge you or your family your wealth. That’s not what I mean at all. I just come from a very different background, so it’s new to me.”

  “That’s just one more reason that I’m so attracted to you,” he replies.

  “You’re attracted to me because I grew up poor?”

  He smirks. “No. I’m attracted to you because the money isn’t what attracts you to me.”

  “Well, it doesn’t suck,” I say, teasing him. “But no. I think that I would be intrigued by you whatever your tax bracket was.”

  “So back to the subject at hand, how do you feel about the sailboat idea?”

  “I’ll try anything once,” I reply and brush my fingers over the scarf on my head, remembering all the ways the pretty blue material could be used. He glances over and laughs.

  “That’s an excellent outlook, sugar.”

  ***

  I don’t think I’m much of a sailor. We’ve barely set foot on this huge sailboat, and I can’t seem to find my sea legs. But there’s a whole crew of four people to sail the boat, and I’m not going to chicken out in front of them or Beau.

  “We’re going to push away from the dock,” Beau says, excitement written all over his face. I don’t want to be the party pooper who says, I don’t feel so good, so I just smile and nod, holding on to the rail at the side of the boat tightly.

  Do not throw up, Mallory. You’ve got this.

  The engines start, surprising me.

  “I thought this was a sailboat.”

  “It is.” He wraps his arms around my middle and kisses me on the head. We haven’t even been to the cottage yet to settle in. Beau brought us straight here, he was so excited to take me sailing. “But there are engines in case there is no wind, and to get us away from shore, then to guide us
back in again.”

  “Gotcha.” I nod, watching the horizon. The sun is just beginning to set, throwing a riot of color across the sky.

  If I didn’t feel so damn nauseated, I would be enamored with it.

  I take a deep breath. In through my nose, out through my mouth.

  “The water is nice and smooth this evening,” Beau says. He’s so happy. I nod again, but inside I’m freaking out. This is smooth? It feels like…I don’t even know what it feels like.

  Like I’m in a bounce house for kids with about thirty kids going crazy inside.

  And this is smooth.

  Lord help me.

  Suddenly, the engine quits, and the sails are raised, and they catch the wind, pulling us across the water. It’s a bit smoother now, amazingly, and I start to relax back into him.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “I think so.” I reply.

  “Look how far out we are already,” he says, pointing back to land. I look, and being okay flies right out of the window.

  “Oh, God.”

  “What, sweetheart? It’s hard to hear you over the wind.”

  Good. Because I’m going to hurl. Looking back wasn’t a good move. I close my eyes, but that doesn’t help at all.

  It just makes it worse.

  I’m going to die.

  “Mal, you’re shaking,” he says and leans around so he can see my face. “God, are you okay?”

  “No,” I reply. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Okay,” he says, rubbing circles on my back. “It’s okay if you need to be sick.”

  I’m quite sure it’s never okay to be sick in front of the man you’re currently having sex with.

  I shake my head, so angry at myself. He’s still rubbing my back, and I know he’s trying to help me feel better, but nothing is making me feel better right now.

  “Deep breaths,” he croons into my ear. “Just breathe, Mallory.”

  “If I didn’t feel like I was going to lose my very expensive lunch right now, I’d find that very sweet.”

  “Ah, baby, I’m so sorry.”

  I shake my head, and that’s it. I lose it.

  All over the side of this beautiful sailboat.

  And I can’t stop. It’s like the floodgates have been thrown open, and there’s no slowing it down.

  “We’re turning back,” he says, and I pray that he can’t see what’s happening. He’s pulled my hair back and instead of circles, he’s just patting my back gently. “We’ll be back in just a little while.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, then heave again. God, my stomach is empty, but I can’t stop the heaving.

  “No, I’m sorry,” he says.

  “Didn’t know.” I rest my forehead on my hand, as there’s a lull in the super sexy throwing up. “Now we do.”

  “Now we do,” he says. “I wish they had ice chips on board.”

  “Why? I’m not in labor,” I reply, not understanding.

  “Chewing on ice chips helps the nausea,” he says. “Or peppermint oil.”

  “Oh!” I whip my head up and immediately regret it. “I should have thought of that. I have peppermint oil in my handbag.”

  “Excellent.” He reaches for my bag and hands it to me. I find it, shove my bag back in his hands, and rub a drop under my nose, then on my pulse points, hoping it helps quickly.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I don’t think well when I’m throwing up.”

  I nod and breathe deep, beginning to feel just a bit better. Not all the way, but it is lessening the urge to heave.

  Thank God.

  Finally, we reach the dock and Beau immediately leads me off the boat and to dry land.

  “Just stand here,” he says, taking my shoulders in his hands so he can watch me. “Take a deep breath.”

  And just like that, the nausea disappears as quickly as it showed up on the boat.

  “Amazing,” I whisper, and then I feel my shoulders drop.

  “What’s wrong now?”

  “We have to break up,” I reply and lean forward, until my forehead is resting on his chest.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I can’t sail!”

  “Okay?”

  “I can’t be on boats, Beau. I should have known I’d get seasick because I get motion sick doing almost anything. I can’t ride rides at carnivals. I can’t ride in the backseat of the car for very long. I’m a mess.”

  “I’m not following you, sweetheart.”

  “You build boats for a living!” I look up at him now, and am shocked to see him smiling. “You build boats, and just the thought of being on one now makes me—”

  “Okay, okay,” he says and pulls me in for a hug. “Shh. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay that we have to break up.”

  “We’re not breaking up.” He kisses my head again. “Just because my family builds boats, doesn’t mean that I spend my life on them. I can still sail with my family. It doesn’t mean you have to join us. Gabby isn’t particularly fond of it either, and my parents didn’t disown her.”

  “She doesn’t like it either?” I ask, hope blooming in my chest.

  “Nope. So you’re stuck with me, Mallory.” I pull back, and he plants his lips on my forehead. “You have no idea how important you’ve come to be to me, and I don’t know how to explain it. But I will say that I’m not going anywhere, certainly not because you have a queasy stomach.”

  And now my stomach is moving again, but with butterflies now.

  “You say the sweetest things,” I whisper.

  “I don’t say anything that I don’t mean,” he replies, his eyes on my lips. “Now, let’s get to the cottage so you can get more comfortable.”

  “Okay.” I smile as he slips his hand in mine and leads me back to the car.

  ***

  “This isn’t a cottage.”

  I’ve just stepped from the car, and am staring at the beautiful home we just pulled up to. It’s a full moon tonight, so there’s a bright glow cast around the white building with black wrought iron balconies. This cottage is bigger than the home he’s building in New Orleans.

  “We call it the cottage,” he says with a smile, pulling our luggage behind him. “Come on, I’ll give you the tour. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Much better,” I reply with a smile. “I’m sorry again.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Come on, this is one of my favorite places, and I’m excited to show it to you.”

  “It’s lovely on the outside,” I reply, silently making sure all of my walls are secure, just in case there’s something, or someone, here that I don’t want to feel.

  “It was built about a hundred years ago,” he says. “It’s survived its share of hurricanes and bad weather over the years.”

  “How long has your family owned it?”

  “They built it,” he says with a smile. “And my mother and I are the only ones who use it now. For the most part, anyway.”

  He leads me into a beautiful grand foyer, with a double staircase, on either side of the room, leading up to a landing.

  “The bedrooms are all upstairs, as well as the ballroom.”

  “Ballroom?” I ask.

  “We have one,” he confirms. “It’s empty. It hasn’t been used in, hell, I don’t think it’s been used since my parents got married here.”

  “They married here?” I ask, then realize I’m repeating everything he says. “I bet it’s a great spot for a wedding.”

  “Wait until you see the view in the morning,” he replies with a smile. “There’s a back patio with lounge chairs and cabanas, so we can sit out and enjoy the view all day if you like.”

  “I like,” I say with a smile.

  “I can also seduce you out there.”

  “I noticed you don’t have close neighbors.”

  “We’re alone,” he confirms and leans down to kiss me, but I duck ou
t of the way.

  “I need to brush my teeth before you kiss me,” I say, cringing. “I hurled.”

  “Ah, yes. That. Okay, let’s get this tour finished so you can freshen up and I can get you naked.”

  My eyebrows climb. Surprisingly, despite the way I felt earlier, just the way he’s looking at me right now makes my body heat and spine tingle.

  “This is the kitchen.”

  “This has been recently remodeled,” I comment, in love with the black and white color scheme. It’s clean, with pops of teal and yellow, giving it a beachy feel.

  “About a year ago,” he confirms. “We have to have modern kitchens.”

  “That’s what I always say,” I reply, then wink at him and he slaps me on the ass.

  “You’re sexy when you’re sassy.”

  “I’m glad you like it, because I don’t plan to change any time soon.”

  “Good.” He leans in, and rather than kiss me on the lips, he plants a wet kiss on my neck, sending my already humming nerves into full sparks.

  “You’re good with your mouth.”

  He just smirks and pulls me through the rest of the downstairs, showing me a parlor, formal dining room, home theater and massage room.

  “Nice,” I say. “I’ve never had a massage.”

  “Ever?”

  “Ever. I don’t like to be touched by strangers,” I remind him and shrug.

  “We’ll see what we can do about that.”

  He leads me upstairs, and shows me all six bedrooms, with attached baths. I don’t know how an upstairs can be bigger than the downstairs, and it probably isn’t, but it feels like it goes on forever.

  “I don’t use the master bedroom because Mama still uses that room. This is the room I use.” He opens French doors into a room with a massive four-poster king bed, and another set of French doors that lead out to a balcony.

  “I can hear the ocean,” I say, walking to the balcony and opening the doors. The air swirls around me as I step out and lean on the railing. “Oh, this is lovely.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  I turn to find him staring at me, pure lust and happiness in his whiskey colored eyes.