Summer Break (Phoebe & Madsen Part 2) Page 4

  As soon as we make it into our room and the door closes behind us, I turn her body so she’s flush against the wall. Her eyes widen, lust and love fill them. We’re going to christen this bed, maybe even the wall, and I’m going to make my girl scream until her voice is a whisper and her brother cries for it to stop.

  Goals in life are everything.

  Phoebe’s lips are one of my favorite parts of her body. The way she pouts them when she’s trying to get her way, or the way they pinken when I nibble at them, sends all the blood from my head straight past my belt and I turn to mush. When Phoebe is turned on, her pale skin flushes and every amazing freckle she tries to hide from the sun appears. My goal in life is to name each freckle and kiss it as I do. The only way to find them all is to keep her in a constant state of arousal.

  I may not have chosen the last name Secksin but I damn well make sure to use it to my advantage when it comes to Phoebe. With her, I’ll gladly sin every single day she’ll let me. “You like teasing me like that in front of other people?” My voice is low as I nibble at her neck. I know Phoebe’s weakness is that little spot on her neck where it meets her shoulder. Her knees buckle a little as she nods her head. “Use your words, baby. I want to hear you.”

  “Ye . . . ye . . . yees.”

  Phoebe’s hands are on my belt, doing nothing but holding on. Waiting for my lead. To tell her what to do. My girl is strong-willed, stubborn, and feisty as hell but she loves giving me control in the bedroom. And, I love taking it. I grab her hands from my belt and place them on my shoulders as I slowly move my lips up her neck and suck on her earlobe. A few purrs and moans from Phoebe and I smile. She is lost in her own world, the one that is consumed by me, and the one that shuts her worrisome brain off and allows her to be here with me.

  I loosen Phoebe’s top from the band of her shorts, take a slight step back to pull it over her head, and toss it to the floor. Her hands return to my shoulders, never moving as my hands quickly unfasten her shorts and tug them down her hips. She steps out of the denim and kicks them aside.

  I love Phoebe’s body. Her curves are what pinup girls of the forties were made of, and she’s a sight to behold. Standing here, in her black lacy panties that allow the cheeks of her ass to peek out and a frilly lacy bra, her breaths are slow and deliberate. She’s struggling to keep her composure, and if I know my girl, she’s struggling to not take control. I’m happy to see many new freckles appearing across her chest as a slight sheen glistens her skin.

  I capture her mouth again as she tightens her grip on my shirt, which I take as a silent request for me to take it off. I follow her plea and remove my shirt as she shifts her hands to my belt unbuckles and removes my shorts. In seconds, I’m in only my boxer briefs and kissing my way across Phoebe’s chest. When I reach her hard nipples, I take one between my forefinger and thumb as my mouth licks and nibbles at the other through the lace. Phoebe’s head falls back against the wall and her hands find their way to my hair. She tugs and pulls as I descend to the pair of lips I’ve been thinking of since we woke up this morning.

  I could take my time. I should savor this. Savor her. But I’m a bastard. A selfish and horny bastard. I swipe my tongue once then twice over the satin of her panties. When Phoebe’s knees begin to buckle, I place one hand on her belly to hold her up as the other pulls her panties aside.

  I lick and suck as Phoebe’s moans get louder with each stroke of my tongue. It doesn’t take much for Phoebe to begin to unravel; her pussy tells me everything I need to know, and the moment I suck her clit between my lips, she unravels before me. Standing, I grab her hips and pull her to me. She grabs my face and kisses me, absorbing her flavors from my tongue. It’s fucking hot as hell knowing she’s tasting herself from my mouth.

  Unable to contain myself, I pick Phoebe up and turn us to the bed, never breaking our kiss. She unfastens her bra and discards it as I slowly lay her down on her back. I slide my boxer briefs off while she shimmies from her panties, both being discarded to the floor before I pounce like a lion on his prey. Except, Phoebe is no gentle gazelle. A mischievous look takes over her face as she flips herself over onto all fours, turning her head to peer over her shoulder. Fuck she knows what this position does to me. Seeing her like this, giving the illusion she’s handing herself over to me, when in reality, she’s in control. She decides what is happening, and I love every minute of it.

  I make my way onto the bed, kneeling behind her as my hand glides across her perfect ass, giving a gentle slap to it, making her smile.

  “Don’t make me beg, Mads.”

  “I wouldn’t dare, love.” I don’t hesitate as I line myself up, slightly bending my stance to easily slide into her silkiness. A perfect fit. I begin pumping as she throws her head back, her long hair in waves skimming her back, beckoning me to take it in my hand and tug. Which I do. Phoebe loves a slight tug and begins meeting me thrust for thrust as I set our pace.

  “Touch yourself, baby. I’m not going to last, this feels too good.”

  Phoebe does as instructed, and I watch her hand disappear between her legs. Her moans grow in succession as they get louder. A loud bang hits the wall that is connected the bathroom, but I don’t stop. If anything, it only encourages me to make Phoebe scream. And she does. She begins chanting my name as she comes undone and hits her climax. I soon follow, and when I’ve unloaded every bit of what I have to offer, I collapse on the bed next to her.

  Our heavy breathing fills the room before we both start laughing. Phoebe stands and goes to one of our bags and pulls out a beach towel and cleans herself up then tosses it to me on the bed. She reaches down and grabs my discarded shirt and pulls it over her head to sleep in. I love when she does that. Always in my shirt, telling me in her own way she’s mine. She may not introduce me as her boyfriend, she may not admit we’re living together and in love, but she claims me in her own way, and that’s all I need.

  I finish cleaning myself up and toss the towel on the floor as Phoebe climbs into bed and curls up into my side. “I think I’m going to like California, Madsen.” Her voice tells me she’s exhausted and the time change is catching up to her too.

  “Yeah?” I ask while pulling the sheet up a little around my waist.

  “Mmmhmmm. It’s like drunk Mads but without the whiskey dick,” she teases while poking my side before yawning.

  “I don’t get whiskey dick like most guys, babe. It’s like a fucking energy boost for me.”

  “I know, we need to get some whiskey tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of free time in the next few weeks.”

  I laugh at her comment and note her breathing has slowed and hear the soft snores indicating she’s fallen asleep. I need to change my goals for this summer. Originally, I just wanted to have fun with my girl and get to work on my surfing skills. Now, my goal is to get that label Phoebe refuses to apply and secure our future.

  I allow sleep to take hold as the single most important part of that future snuggles into my side. This is what it’s all about.

  Fuck the California sun and the goddamn seagulls. Those fuckers were out in full force way too early, and I’m pretty sure they live directly outside our bedroom window. Or Duncan bribed them to move there. Either way, they need to go. I’ll never get any sleep at this rate. I stretch out and realize I’m alone in the bed. Once I sit up, I hear voices in the house. And laughs. A man’s laugh. One I know isn’t Duncan.

  Jackson.

  Is this guy for real? It’s been a day since we arrived, and looking at the time on my phone, it can’t have been too long since everyone woke up. I drag my ass out of bed and find my shorts. Free balling, I pull them on while looking for a shirt. Fuck it, this is my house too. I open the bedroom door and hear Phoebe’s laugh guiding me to the kitchen.

  I take in the scene before me. Phoebe is at the stove still wearing my T-shirt but with a pair of her bright colored leggings on underneath. Her hair is in one of those messy buns she throws it in, and her mouth looks delectable. Ignoring Kel
sey and Duncan sitting at the table with Jackson, I make a beeline to my girl as she turns around and greets me with a huge smile and a kiss. Yeah, so maybe it’s a little more than a good morning kiss but fuck, this sea air is doing something to my libido.

  Something smacks me in the head as I begin to turn Phoebe toward the counter. I stop my movements and look down to see a piece of toast hitting the floor. I glare at Duncan, who is laughing while Kelsey smacks him. Duncan fakes his hurt as Kelsey admonishes him for wasting her fancy, and really expensive, bread.

  “What? Ouch. It’s bad enough we had to hear the mating calls of elephants or whatever they were doing last night, I don’t need to see it too.”

  “Shut up, Fuckan.” Phoebe points the spatula at Duncan as she gives me a quick kiss and shoos me away. I walk to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup before turning back to the group.

  “Morning, Mads. Jackson was just telling me stories about these two when they were kids. Turns out, Duncan wasn’t quite as . . . let’s say he has a high-pitched squeal we had no idea about.” Kelsey almost falls off her chair as she laughs at the look on Duncan’s face.

  “Is that so? I bet I’ve heard that squeal a time or two. Roommates and what not,” I say while wiggling my brows. This only draws another scowl from Duncan and more laughs from everyone else. I look at Jackson as I take a sip from my cup, “You’re over early.”

  Jackson smiles at me and takes a drink from his glass of juice. “Yeah, up with the surf. I saw Kelsey outside early, and she invited me over for breakfast. That time change is a bitch, right?” I nod in response. I still don’t trust the guy, but he seems to be only making conversation.

  “Guess what?” Phoebe asks while placing a plate of bacon in the center of the table and motioning me to sit on the only available chair. Jackson stands and offers Phoebe his chair but she motions for him to sit, and she sits on my lap. “Jackson thinks he can get me a job at one of the little boutiques in town. Something for the summer. Isn’t that great?”

  “Wait, you’re going to work while we’re here?” This is the first I’ve heard of this.

  “Well, if someone will have me. We aren’t here that long, but you know how I get when I’m just sitting around. Plus, it’ll keep me busy when you go to New York in a few weeks. It’ll be fun.”

  I can tell Phoebe is excited, her eyes are sparkling and her smile is huge. I plant a quick kiss to her lips and return the smile. “That’s great, babe. You’ll get it for sure. Anyone that turns you down would be a loser.”

  “It probably helps that I’m the one in charge of hiring,” Jackson responds. Yeah, the look I shoot him isn’t exactly friendly. In my defense, I’m not fully awake until cup two.

  “Is that right? What’s your position?”

  “District manager. Well, ultimately anyway. My parents own the shop, and we’re looking to open two others in the area. I’d like to see us franchise so my parents can fully retire. They moved out of the house and into an over-fifty community for the first step, downsizing and all that. But, my goal has always been to come back after college and take the business to the next level.”

  “Where’d you go to college?”

  “Berkley. Finished about four years ago and spent a couple of years working in L.A. for a major department store.”

  “You know, my favorite place in the world, according to you.” Phoebe teases me, but I still hold my position that Nordstrom is, in fact, her favorite place.

  “It is,” I say before turning my attention back to Jackson and extending my hand. “Thanks for looking out for my girl and getting her a job.”

  “It’s no biggie. I think Fancy will like it. I could use a fresh set of eyes and ideas for the store. It’s still a little nineties chic in the décor department.” There’s that fucking nickname again.

  “What’s with the nickname?” I ask, taking a bite of the bagel sandwich Phoebe put together on the plate we’re sharing.

  “When we were kids, these two would come spend the summer every year. I’m a local kid, and they were summer transplants. We hung out, played, and surfed every day. But this one,” he says, pointing at Phoebe, who is eating the other half of the sandwich, “she was different. Always talking about all the places she wanted to visit and the dreams she had. Duncan and I were happy to find the perfect wave and Phoebe was always . . .” He hesitates and Kelsey finishes for him.

  “Fancy. I get it. She’s still fancy, and we wouldn’t have her any other way,” Kelsey says, standing and pouring more coffee into her cup. “But now that we know the nickname, it’s forever. Whatcha say fancy girl? Want to put on our bikinis, chill the rosé, and hit the beach?”

  “I think we all agree I changed a little. I’m not all about designer clothes and traveling. I like a simpler life. It’s this schmuck who has to have the best of everything.” Phoebe motions to Duncan, who simply shrugs his shoulders in agreement.

  We all laugh a little as Phoebe and Kelsey excuse themselves to change, and I get to know Jackson a little more. Those older than us didn’t come up with the saying “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer” for nothing. I see how Jackson follows Phoebe as she moves around the kitchen. His eyes tell me he’s interested in more than a trip down memory lane with her, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let my guard down. Not when I have plans for us.

  We’ve been in Santa Cruz an entire week, and the four of us have managed to establish a routine that works. For Phoebe and me, that routine includes food, cocktails, sex, and sun. Everything this summer was supposed to be about. Yesterday, Phoebe went to the store she’ll be working at, By the Beach, and filled out her paperwork. Her first day is tomorrow, so tonight instead of partying with Duncan and Kelsey next door at Jackson’s house, we’re heading out to dinner, just the two of us, and to the boardwalk.

  The Santa Cruz boardwalk is a sight to behold. A cross between an amusement park and a county fair, the boardwalk buzzes with excitement. Families laugh, children eat cotton candy, and teens learn to flirt with one another. Phoebe and I don’t plan on riding many rides, but people watching is almost as much fun as if we were.

  “That dinner was delicious. Do you think it’s the sea air that makes everything taste better?” Phoebe squeezes my hand as we walk. I know what she means. My senses are on hyperdrive here.

  “Seriously. I swear, even the coffee tastes better.”

  “Do you think,” she begins before stopping.

  “What?” I ask as I stop in front of the donut hole vendor. I place an order for the largest bag of holes to share while I wait for her to continue.

  “Do you think you’d move here? To the west coast? A beach town?”

  I’m not surprised by her question. Phoebe is unsettled. She isn’t sure what she wants to do with her future, she isn’t one hundred percent sure where she wants to live other than far from her parents, and I think deep down she’s scared that maybe life doesn’t need a plan.

  “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not the worst place to live. I’d probably have to be closer to a large city for work, I doubt there are many positions in pharmaceutical sales here. But, I suppose it wouldn’t be too awful to call a place like Santa Cruz home. Why? Do you think you’d want to move here?”

  Phoebe shrugs and stuffs a donut hole in her mouth. Evading. I know that move well.

  “Look, babe. We’re young and have our lives ahead of us. This is the time we should be trying things, spreading our wings; the world is our oyster, yada yada,” I say, smiling before tugging her to me and continuing. “I know one thing . . .” I pause to take the bag of holes from her hand and toss them on the bench next to us. The frown she gives me is hilarious, and I smile while kissing her. Her nose scrunches because I’m laying the PDA on thick. “I love you and want to be with you. We don’t have to decide anything right now. How about we table the topic of where we’ll land until my interviews next week? Then, we can figure out where we’ll live and what our future may hold.”

  I watch as P
hoebe begins to shut down. Her posture changes, and she takes her hand and brushes away non-existent hairs from her face. Her nostrils flare, and she takes a deep breath before speaking. Her tone is neutral but with a slight clip. “Your interviews”—she takes a deep breath while looking over my shoulder before turning her gaze to me— “those interviews, are your future, Madsen. They aren’t mine.”

  Ouch. That was a little harsh, but I get it. Phoebe is a lot of things, but one she isn’t is a follower. To her, my interviews and my possible employment don’t automatically include her. That’s where we differ. To me, every decision I make includes her. Each step I take is with her in mind. “Hey,” I say, placing my hand to her cheek, my thumb gently rubbing at her bottom lip. “I didn’t say it was. I’m not trying to pressure you. I mean it when I say I love you. I know labels aren’t in your vocabulary, and you aren’t ready to plan our future. The reality is, you are my future, Phoebe. I’ll do this at your pace and keep the labels off the table, but make no mistake, we are forever and you are what matters most to me. If being in California is what you want, then California is where we’ll be. But tonight? We’re hanging out and riding that big ass Ferris wheel before I take you home and ravish this body. You need a good night’s sleep before your first day of work, and I think a little Secksin is exactly the sleep aid you need.”

  Phoebe laughs, and I plant a quick kiss to her lips, pick up the bag of donut holes, and drag her to the Ferris wheel. Phoebe is like a kid on Christmas Eve. She loves everything about amusement park rides, but what nobody else knows is she likes to be a little naughty when we’re stopped at the top. I learned this unexpectedly, and it scared the shit out of both of us when I jumped the first time she unzipped my pants and stuck her hands in my pants on a ride at a local amusement park. No worries, we aren’t heathens; nobody could see us. But when I jumped, the cart we were sitting in started swaying so much I sent a prayer to whoever was in charge of safety that they actually did their job.