Eight Days in the Sun Read online

  I shift and bring my legs to the floor. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “I’m more into Jennifer Lawrence now.”

  I lob pillow number two. This time it smacks him right in the head. Score.

  “I’m joking,” he says.

  “It’s not funny. You tell me this is a big deal; then you make jokes. You’re just full of dick moves.”

  He rubs the back of his head. “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry. It’s just my way. I always try to defuse a situation with a joke.” He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “But this…oh, fuck it. I have to tell you something, Kiran. I’m afraid how you’ll take it. But I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. It’s been killing me not to tell you.”

  Something wrenches inside my gut. Maybe it’s all the dead butterflies that were fluttering around just a moment ago. He has a girlfriend. I should have guessed. I feel numb and nauseous all at once.

  “Kiran?” He touches my shoulder. I react with a jolt.

  “What is it? Start talking already.”

  Mason inhales a deep breath. “When I was fourteen, we came here for our annual family vacation. In fact, that was the last year we came here. I had this really fucked-up notion that I was going to teach myself how to surf. I went to the beach real early one day. A wave overtook me. My feet got tangled in a patch of seaweed. I don’t remember much except for this girl in an aquamarine swimsuit. She came out of nowhere and pulled me to the shore. Then she kissed me.”

  I blink, trying to reconcile what he is saying. The image of the man before me does not match the memory he is talking about. It all comes together in one bright flash. I am his first kiss. The kiss on the beach. That was me. “Um… I was giving you mouth to mouth resuscitation. You count that as your first kiss?”

  “The kiss of life. Best kiss of all.”

  I’m not queasy anymore or angry, but I am sad. “Is this why you wanted to hang out with me? Some kind of payback? Paying it forward by saving the poor girl who once saved you? Is this your fucked-up version of being a good Samaritan?” My questions are sharp, at odds with my tone. Defeat rings out loud and clear in my voice.

  “No.” He cups my face and turns it so we’re looking at each other. “But I knew this is where your mind would go. Yes, I recognized you that first day in the elevator.” Mason’s hand slides down my arm. He rubs the heart-shaped birthmark on my wrist. “I remember this especially. Remember you holding my hand. I remember this mark on your wrist.” When he looks up at me, his smile is pure. A few butterflies awake from their coma. “You were the girl who literally wore her heart on her sleeve. I wasn’t sure if you were real or something I imagined. A symptom of bad shellfish. Why the hell did you run away? No one believed me when I said a sea angel saved me.”

  “You actually said the words ‘sea angel’?”

  “Scout’s honor, I did.”

  “I was still grounded from sneaking out for the Bon Jovi concert. I wasn’t supposed to leave the house, but the waves called to me. I couldn’t stay away.”

  “So you really didn’t recognize me? I’m a little offended.”

  “It all happened fast.” I take in his chiseled face and muscular body. “Plus, you’ve had a couple of growth spurts.”

  “Yeah, I look different.”

  “So do I.”

  He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re older but still gorgeous. Look, it wasn’t love at first sight or anything, but I did have a stupid, mad crush on the brave girl who saved my life.” He leans closer and kisses me on the temple. “You know what? I’m pretty smitten with the courageous, beautiful woman she grew up to be too.”

  Exhausted from his revelation, I lay back on the bed, “Why didn’t you tell me? You had a million chances.” I pound my fist into the soft mattress, angry it barely made a sound. “I even told you the story of me saving you. You didn’t even tell me then.”

  “I was afraid it would change things between us.” He exhales. “Does it?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I want you, Kiran.” His voice is low, the cadence dripping with need. If lust had a rhythm, it would be Mason Cutler’s voice. “What do you want right now? I hope it’s me.”

  “What about that whole spiel? The first time should be special. I can’t make any promises to you.”

  He tilts his head. “I will make it special for you. As much as I can. I had to tell you everything first. My conscience was as heavy as a lead balloon, sunshine. You said you liked my honesty. It drove me crazy that I was lying to you, or at least omitting the truth. As far as the future goes, that’s all true. I can’t make you any promises. Right now, I’m not interested in looking beyond the horizon. Tomorrows are always uncertain. Tonight is about this boy.” He places my hand over his heart. It’s beating wildly. “And the beautiful girl he met. The one who makes him feel things he didn’t know he was capable of. Things his cynical mind didn’t think existed in the real world. Now, you tell me what you want.”

  I don’t answer. His arm circles me. He kisses me, softly at first. The kiss builds as if he’s trying to convince me. It’s working. But an annoying voice keeps interrupting the moment to tell me this is pity, not passion. I break us apart before I can submit to the temptation.

  “Kiran—”

  “I’m tired. You should go.”

  His bright blue eyes widen. “But…”

  “I need to process this. We really shouldn’t do this, considering we’re never going to see each other after we leave here.”

  His hands fall. His expression is ripe with frustration, but behind that I see the inkling of sorrow. “This is one time I hate being right.” He kisses my temple. The bed lifts as he stands. The room is colder now, more dark and lonely.

  He opens the door, turning back once. His stare cuts right through me. “Don’t get lost in your own head, Kiran. If you need someone to help you find your way out, you know where I am.”

  I sit there for a minute contemplating what I’ve done. I relive the moments we’ve shared. Although I can count them in minutes and hours and days, my brief time with Mason Cutler is immeasurable. He saw my battered body and nothing disgusted him. On the contrary, he made me feel beautiful. I shared parts of me with him that I had locked away long ago. Along with the stunning façade, he is sweet and funny and humble to a point of self-deprecating.

  He even has regrets about thinking of someone else his first time.

  Wait? The epiphany hits me over the head like a rogue boulder. There is only one obstacle to my happiness.

  Me.

  I stumble from the bed and run into the hallway. He’s in the elevator. The thirty odd feet of carpet stretching between us might as well be a million miles. “Who was the girl?” I call out.

  “What girl?”

  “The one you were thinking of the first time you had sex?”

  The doors start to close. He makes no move to open them. As they frame his body, he smiles softly. “It was you.”

  The door shuts.

  Sometimes a girl’s got to fight for her own happiness. I head toward the staircase. A fast walk becomes a full-out run. I spring up the two flights of stairs to his floor.

  I’m breathless when I get there. I stand in front of the elevator waiting for the doors to open. This elevator is slower than a herd of tranquilized snails. There is no way I missed him. But the doors stay shut. Maybe he didn’t go to his room. Maybe he went somewhere else.

  “Fuck!” I say, banging my head against the metal.

  “Kiran?” The strong masculine voice spiced with southern molasses spills through the metal doors.

  “Mason? What’s going on?”

  “I’m stuck in the elevator. Are you on my floor?”

  If I didn’t think it would add peril or permanent injury, I’d pry open the doors with my fingernails.

  “I had something to say to you. I have to say it now.”

  “Wait—”
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  “No, don’t interrupt me, Mason. I have to get this out while I have the courage. I don’t even care if there is a stupid door between us. Just listen. You’re right. We’re two people who found each other. Maybe we were even meant to find each other at this crossroads in our lives. I don’t care about tomorrow, and I’m over yesterday. I want the now. I’m tired of always second guessing myself. You asked me what I wanted. I didn’t answer you. Well, this is what I want.” I suck in a deep, courage-inducing breath. “I want to rip all your clothes off and fuck the hell out of you.”

  Silence.

  Was it too much?

  “Um Kiran, I should tell you I’m not alone in here. The elevator picked someone up between floors before it got stuck.”

  “What?” Please tell me you’re joking, Mason. It’s three in the morning. Who could be in there at this hour?

  “Hello Kiran, your language is so colorful these days.”

  “Mrs. Waters?”

  Mrs. Waters, former tenth grade English teacher. Current front desk clerk. Witness to my most embarrassing moment. And trust me, there have been plenty.

  “I’m staying here while my apartment is being repainted. I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d take a turn on the roof. Fresh air helps.”

  “Oh.”

  “This elevator is ornery. We’re having the maintenance man look at it tomorrow. Don’t worry, the doors will open in a second.”

  “That’s great.” My voice is high enough I wonder if I inhaled some helium.

  Why are we still talking? I should run away and hide, preferably under a huge rock.

  As promised, the door squeaks open. Mason, ever the gentleman, gestures for Mrs. Waters to get out first.

  She offers me a tight smile. “It’s not my floor, but I think I’ll take the stairs the rest of the way.”

  “Probably wise,” Mason says. “Probably what I should have done,” he mutters below his breath.

  “And Kiran?”

  I force myself to look at her.

  “Yes, Mrs. Waters?”

  “Remember what advice I gave when we got our brand new textbooks at the beginning of the school year?”

  That’s a weird question. “You said we should protect them with a sturdy book cover.”

  She looks between Mason and me. “Keep that in mind, dear.”

  Okay, did my tenth grade teacher just tell me to use a condom?

  I want to slither to the ground. The solid sound of the metal door closes, leaving Mason and I alone in the dimly lit hallway of the tenth floor.

  “You can laugh. I give you permission.”

  He places a finger against my chin and lifts my face. “I would if I wasn’t so turned on right now.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “You just declared you want to rip my clothes off and have your way with me. Honey, I don’t think I’ve ever been so damn horny and embarrassed at the same time.”

  “Why are you embarrassed?”

  He takes my hand and presses my palm flat against his chest. Then he slides it down his body until it’s pressed against his groin. His very hard groin.

  I cup him, shocked by how much there is to cup. “Is that you?”

  His smile inches up, as do other parts of his body.

  “Don’t look so innocent, sunshine. This is me under the spell of you.”

  He grabs my hips and pulls me against him. I thread my fingers in his hair. He walks me backward until I’m against the door of his room. He fumbles in his pocket, and all the while his mouth slides up my neck. I would have fallen when the door opened, but the security of his strong arms keeps me upright.

  He kicks the door shut. Mason tugs on my zipper. I reach backward to help him. I love the white eyelet sundress, but right now I don’t care if he rips it to shreds.

  “This fucking dress has been driving me nuts all night. Pure torture, this fucking dress.”

  The dress falls. I silently pat myself on the back for wearing my prettiest bra, even though it clashes with my panties. He traces the curve of my bra and then the pattern on the cups. I’m not sure if I wish there were more polka dots or less. My breasts perk at his gentle touch. Just when I’m about to demand more, he unhooks me. He takes off the bra. Licking his lips, he stares at my naked breasts. I wonder what crazy sensual thing he’ll say to me.

  “I like your boobs,” he says. We both laugh. “Sorry, I wanted to come up with something better, but you’re doing things to me that make it hard to hold a coherent thought.”

  “Mason, I love what you said. Right now, the last thing I want you to do with your mouth is talk.”

  His eyes darken. “Amen to that.”

  I yank at his T-shirt until he catches my drift and shucks it off. I trail my fingers down his hard chest, feeling every rise and fall of the hard muscles on his waist. I trace the inked letters on his side, wondering again what those words refer to. He takes out his wallet. He fumbles until he finds a golden square. He tosses it on the nightstand. His jeans come off next. His large hands feel warm and massive against my trembling body. They stop at my panties. He hooks a finger on each side.

  His mouth travels down my body, punctuating each part of the journey with a hard wet kiss. He falls to his knees.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, although I have a pretty good idea.

  “Sit,” he growls, pushing me onto the bed. “You’re mine tonight, Kiran. I aim to have my fill of you. Do you understand?”

  I nod. I sit. I get lost in the command of his voice. He spreads my legs and kisses each of my thighs. The anticipation is almost too much. I squirm as he presses his lips against me. I fall back when his tongue darts out. I cry out when he begins thrusting said tongue inside of me. I’m caught somewhere between the small gap of agony and ecstasy. I lean on my elbows to take in the sight of his beautiful head between my legs. I run my fingers through the soft strands of his chocolate and honey-colored hair. Mason moves inside of me with sureness. He picks up on my cues. When I moan, he increases the speed. When I moan too hard, he slows down to let me catch a breath. Then we’re on the marathon again. I can see the finish line.

  Fisting his hair, I scream, “Mason, I want you inside of me.”

  He lifts his face up. “Where do you think I am if not inside of you? Are you not enjoying this, sunshine?”

  “I’m enjoying it too much. I don’t want it to end here.”

  He kisses my belly. “Kiran, I’m not a one-trick pony. I promise it won’t end here.”

  “I want you to enjoy yourself too.”

  His smile could melt icicles. “Silly girl, what am I going to do with you?”

  I don’t know, but I really want to find out.

  “What would ever make you think I’m not enjoying myself? I’ve been wondering what you taste like for a while now. You taste like fucking peaches. Do you know that?”

  The sultry cadence of his rich voice leaves me teetering over some false edge. “No, can’t say I did.” I fall onto my back in sweet surrender. “Please resume.”

  “With pleasure. But just so we’re clear about things, I need to explain something to you. I’m no expert, but I have more experience than you. I’m going to use every scrap of knowledge I’ve picked up regarding the female body to please you tonight. Then I’m gonna learn you from the top of your hair to these pinky toes right here.” I giggle when he pinches them. “See there, you’re ticklish. Good to know.”

  “What do you mean learn me?”

  “I’m going to learn your body. I believe I’ve figured out what makes you tick. Kiran Shenoy. Now, I aim to discover what makes you hum.”

  It’s you—beautiful, sweet, wickedly delicious you.

  I let out a soft moan that translates into “yes, please.” Luckily, he requires no further communication and buries his head between my thighs again.

  If I thought he skirted the line between agony and ecstasy before, I find a new word for the sp
ace I’m in…blissful. Mason is unrelenting. His finger enters me as his tongue flicks my nub. He pleasures and teases me at the same time.

  Know what’s better than one finger? Two fingers.

  I can feel the heat of his breath, the wetness of his talented tongue, the softness of his hair against my thigh, the thrust of those long fingers. I fist the bed sheets with crazy desperation. There is so much going on inside me, and I cannot control any of it. I don’t want to either. My body shakes all over. I arch my back, close my eyes, and call out his name.

  When I open my eyes, he’s beside me, watching me. “Peaches,” he whispers before he sucks on his fingers. My throat goes dry while other parts of me get wetter. I’m drenched and parched at the same time. His lips brush against mine, leaving me craving more.

  I cup his face and pull him closer. “Kiss me again.”

  This kiss is more passionate, almost aggressive. He parts my mouth. His tongue tastes like sweet mint and beer and…peaches.

  We’re both breathing harsh, short breaths when we pull apart. “Damn, you’re tight.”

  “Isn’t that good?”

  “For me, yeah. It’s fucking awesome. For you, though… It might hurt a little for you. If it does, you tell me, okay?”

  “I will.”

  He holds up the golden packet. At first, I think he’s shaking it as he’s trying to open it. Then I realize his normally steady hands are just shaking in general. I grow confident knowing I’m having a similar effect on him.

  I still his hands and take the packet from him. “Let me.”

  “Thank you.”

  I tear it with my teeth. He takes my wrist and kisses the underside, pressing his lips against the pink heart on my flesh. He drags my hand down his body until it reaches his erection.

  “Touch me, please.”

  Unsure at first, I grasp him. My movements are reluctant and cautious. I squeeze him. He sucks in a deep breath.

  “I’m doing this wrong, aren’t I?”

  He kisses my temple. “May I show you?”

  “Please.”

  He places his hand over mine and moves us up and down his shaft in slow, steady strokes. I kiss his chest and start working my way down to him. He stops me.