Chapter 5

Clarice

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Brian asks.

"Don't you worry, I know every inch of this coastline."

I sneak a peek back at him, looking even more scrumptious in jeans and a close-fitting black t-shirt than he did in his tailored suit. His scruff is dialed up to eleven, and the way it brings out his rugged jawline affects me more than I want to admit to myself.

He's going to turn my beach into another overpriced condo development. He's my enemy. I shouldn't want to walk closer to him so that our hands brush. It's bad enough I kept checking out his ass before getting pissed at myself and scuttling ahead of him. It's also irritating that I keep wishing I'd worn a cute sundress instead of my normal shorts and tank top.

He'd said, "You look amazing," when he rocked up on the sand, and that deep, rumbling compliment keeps rolling around in my memory. It made me want him to see me looking really nice.

Which is stupid. I need to run him out of town so I can get back to figuring out how to save the beach. I've already decided the 10k that Uncle Oliver is giving me from Grandpa's life insurance is going to a lawyer to get to the bottom of what's going on.

We make it The Hole, a series of caves that stoners and riff raff like to hang out in, away from my beach.

I stop at the low jetty and point to it. "This is where the private land ends." I innocently lead him over it. "This other side is owned by the county. You can see it's unswimmable here because of the rocks, but these caves are pretty interesting."

Even though it isn't ours, Grandpa and I would come once a week to keep the area nice. I haven't had a chance to do it in almost a month, and I definitely didn't make an effort knowing I was taking Brian on this tour. As expected, inside the caves there's a distinct whiff of weed and stale beer. The rocky ground is littered with crushed cans, broken bottles, and cigarette butts. I make a point to step on a chip wrapper so that it crinkles loudly in the quiet cave.

He raises an eyebrow at me as I wave my hand around like a game show host. "Technically no one is supposed to come here, so the county doesn't maintain it. Of course, you can't keep people out and it's a big party spot. Litter, loud music—"

"Clarice," he says, stopping me with a stern look.

I keep going. "I think people do drug deals here, too sometimes. This would be your nei—"

"Clarice," he says again more forcefully.

I shake my head. "Who wants to live next to a place like this? And there's nothing you can do, it's been like this for ages. I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

His slow smile has me looking away. He's onto me. He knows exactly why I brought him to this rank spot. He doesn't know I'm exaggerating about the worst of it, and I can't let on.

Before he can tell me he sees through my scheme, there's a crack of thunder out on the water. A chill breeze blows into the caves and I grab his hand.

"We've got about four minutes to get back before it's dumping on us," I say, taking off. "That's another thing about this place. The weather is unpredictable."

Neither of us wants to wait out a storm in the garbage dump I've let the caves turn into so we race over the jetty and back along the beach toward the parking lot. We're not halfway when the sky opens up.

"Sorry," I yell over the crashing rain. "I thought it'd hold out until much later."

He tries to shield my head with his hand as we run. "I'll drive you home," he says when we get closer to the parking lot.

A wave of shame fills me as I inadvertently glance at my van, tucked away near the storage shed. I've never felt one way or another about living in it until now. It was supposed to be temporary, until I got the house rebuilt, but now it seems like it's the only home I'm going to have for a good long time.

"It's fine," I say, wiping rain from my face. My hair is sodden to my scalp and I'm sure I look like a drowned rat. Brian's t-shirt clings to his muscular chest and impossibly looks even better soaking wet. "It's not far."

He starts to drag me to his car. "So let me drive you, then."

Once again, I can't help but look at my van. I can't think of a place to let him drop me off and when I turn back to him, he's followed my gaze to my little tin can home. Our eyes meet and his narrow. He knows. Just like he knows I showed him the filthy caves on purpose. He knows I live in my van. Well, he doesn't have to know that it leaks and I hold my chin high.

He shakes his head. "You're coming to my place."

"That's okay," I say. A wave of longing hits me at the same time as a shiver of doubt. Like jumping into the ocean and the first shock of cold gets you. You love it, but…

Go to his place with him? When all I've been thinking about since yesterday is getting my hands back on him? That's the part that makes me want to agree. The fact that he's the reason I won't even have a place to park my van soon is still very much at the forefront is what's holding me back. I need to keep hating this guy, not let him show me his good side.

Because then…

Then? I can't fathom it.

"Clarice, just come have dinner with me at least. I'll bring you back when the storm passes." He blows out the water that's pummeling his face and I feel silly, making such a fuss about this.

Nodding, I follow him to the car, where he reaches into the back and then drapes a suit jacket over my dripping shoulders.

"It'll get ruined."

"I've got plenty more," he says. He looks at me for a long moment before turning the engine on.

I can't figure him out and being so close to him is making me forget my prime objective. I turn away, staring straight ahead. He starts to drive and I start to reformulate my plan. I still need to make him see what a terrible idea building on my beach is. The Hole didn't seem to work, but I can't give up yet.

***

Brian

I'm furious. Clarice is living on that beach, in a van that's probably older than she is.

"You're not a college student trying to make some cash during the summer, are you?" I ask, my voice gruff. The anger is all at myself. I should have known something wasn't right when I found out that asshole was her uncle.

I glance at her and her shoulders slump. "No," she sighs. "That beach is all I have."

I swear under my breath as we pull into the hotel. She gasps and curls her arms around her stomach, a look of anguish in her eyes. "You don't even live here," she accuses.

"No, I live mostly in New York."

"You don't even live here but you're ruining it with all your buildings."

"Clarice, because of the resort alone, four new restaurants have opened in town. The theater was supposed to be torn down last year, wasn't it?"

She nods, still not looking at me. "So? It wasn't. The people rallied to refurbish it."

"Yes, after a new company came in and bought it. Because this town is thriving now. I have to stay in close contact with the city council every time I start a project. New people are moving here because of my condos. People who have money to spend in the shops, who will hire locals for their businesses." I wait, but she doesn't answer me. "Come inside and dry off and we'll discuss it more. I'll order a nice meal."

She follows me listlessly inside and my heart is clenching at the broken look on her face. At the door of my suite, she stops, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's still not right. The people of Whitecross City have been going to that beach for generations." She looks up at me with pleading eyes. "And… it's my home. My only home."

I look away and swear softly, opening the door. She still refuses to go in and dry off. She looks like a mermaid. Ethereally beautiful and half like she wants to lure me to my doom. "I'll arrange it so you can have a room in the resort for free as long as you need it. You'll have access to the beach, and the spa, the pool—"

She finally stalks in, whirling to glare at me. "I don't want a high class pool or a spa or have to show a pass every time I want to step onto the sand. Waves should be free." Her rage turns to sorrow and she hides her face in her hands. "This isn't what Grandpa wanted. Not at all, not at all."

A chill seeps into my bones that has nothing to do with the fact I'm soaked from rain. I remember her foul uncle talking about how long it took to put the will through probate. I peel her hands away and make her look at me.

"What do you mean by that?"

"My grandfather never wanted me to sell that land. He showed me more than once that I was supposed to be the executor of the will. He showed me his last wishes, and his life insurance, too. I hated it, every time, because I just wanted to believe he'd live forever. But I know Uncle Oliver did something shady and it's half my fault for being so sad and trusting him to deal with everything." She grips my hands and steps closer to me, tears springing into her eyes. "Please just hold off until I can get a lawyer on the case. Please?"

Looking into her eyes, I'd promise her anything, but I've already had my own lawyers look over the paperwork. It's rock solid. Whatever fucked up thing her uncle did, it's done. I think about stepping away from this rotten deal, but that land is prime. He'd have another buyer lined up in minutes. But Clarice's face is so full of hope.

"I'll see what I can do," I tell her.

She flings herself at me, wrapping her arms tight around my neck. Her soft body melts into mine and it's war to keep my cock from rising. Then I realize she's shivering.

"Christ, you're freezing," I say, but unable to push her away. "Let me turn the AC down and get you something else to wear. Then we can order dinner."

She still won't let go and tips her face back. All I'd have to do is lean down a few inches to claim her lush mouth. She nestles in closer and my hands find their way under her sodden tank top. Her back is cool and I pull her closer, trying to infuse her with my heat, because she has me burning up.

Her green eyes darken and she rises on her toes. I shake my head, even as my body is telling me to take her.

"I don't want you to do anything out of gratitude."

Her smile is almost enough, but I stay out of her reach until she speaks. "I've just been waiting to know you're not my enemy." She scowls adorably and my cock stops listening to my commands. I'm fully hard in a second. "Even when I was supposed to hate you I wanted to kiss you."

I let her rise up on her toes again and then can't hold out any longer. Our lips crash together and when hers part I tease the crease of her mouth with my tongue until she's trembling in my arms.

Fuck, she's still freezing cold. "Get in the shower," I order. "I'm not going anywhere."

I lead her to the bathroom, where she looks around at the vast granite shower. Biting her lip, she grabs me again, rising up for another kiss. "Just one more."

I oblige, and soon I have her pressed against the sink, lifting her onto the counter. How can I not when she was in all my dreams last night, in every thought today until it was time to meet her again. Her legs spread and wrap around my hips, drawing me close to her as her hands glide up and down my chest.

I growl at my inability to stay focused. "You're still in your wet clothes. You're going to catch a cold."

She smiles, a mix of innocence and mischief. "Better help me get them off, then." She reaches to push my shirt up, faking a pout until I lift my arms. With another smile, she runs her fingers down my bare chest. "Brian? I'm getting colder by the second."

I laugh and help her out of her top, leaning down to nuzzle the soft globes of her ripe little tits bursting out of her bra. I snap open the clasp with my teeth and her musical giggle is replaced by a gasp as I take her nipple into my mouth. Her hands find my hair and her breath is hot near my ear.

I lift her and carry her into the walk-in shower, turning on the stinging spray. We stand under it, kissing and exploring each other until she pushes away and wriggles out of her shorts. Tugging at my jeans, she gives me a determined look until I nod and get out of them. We're both naked and while she stares down at my fully erect cock, I take in her curves, her bronzed skin with the tan lines driving me wild. Instead of grabbing her and sinking deep between her slender thighs, I find the bar of soap and begin sudsing every inch of her smooth skin.

Her eyes are closed, a blissful smile on her face as the steam envelops us. When she's rinsed, she takes the soap from me and begins tentatively exploring my body. Unable to stand her curious touch for long, I drag her back to me, finding her mouth with mine. Lifting her out, I wrap her in the oversized hotel bathrobe and carry her to the bed.

Settling her onto it, I look down at her. Wet, tangled hair spills all over the comforter and the robe falls open to reveal peachy nipples against tanned skin. She reaches out to me and I sit beside her, tracing my finger from her collarbone, down along the open edge of the robe. Her nipples turn to taut peaks and I lean over to nip at one.

My body is inflamed, every ounce of willpower called into play as I tease her damp skin. "Warm now?" I ask.

She nods, but shivers as my hand moves lower. "Burning up."

"Should I stop?"

Her sudden intake of breath has me turning away to hide a grin. "No, don't stop," she tells me urgently.

But my hand stops anyway, at her hip. One flick of the wrist would push the robe aside and reveal the pale triangle of flesh between her tanned thighs. I'm almost drooling, I want to taste her so badly.

"What are you, twenty-two, twenty-three?" I ask, tracing a small circle on her lower belly.

She sticks her tongue out at me, a quick dart that delights me and makes me lean down to kiss her. "Tell me," I demand.

"Twenty-one," she sighs. "But don't start about how you're way too old for me."

"That depends on if you think thirty-five is too old," I say.

She covers my restless hand with hers. "I've never been into guys my own age. They're childish and unfocused. I've always known what I wanted out of life, and it's just this past year that got me off track."

Laying down, I turn on my side to face her and she rolls from her back so that we're practically nose to nose. "Tell me," I say. "What did you want?"

"To be a massage therapist, which I kind of am."

"You're great at it," I tell her. "I'm planning on being a regular client."

She looks down at my chest, pressing her palms to my skin, her eyes straying further down to my still raging cock. Her cheeks turn pink and her eyes shoot back to mine.

"I never got my license," she says. "I still have to take the test. There was so much going on after the fire, and without Grandpa, I felt lost."

"The fire?" I ask.

Her head tips down to rest against my shoulder. "I didn't point it out on the tour because it hurts to look at. But that slab close to the construction wall? That used to be our house. I wanted to rebuild it with the insurance money." Her hands clench into fists. "There was supposed to be more than enough. But Uncle Oliver says I'm only getting ten thousand."

I want to break that weasel's neck if he lied. "You say your grandfather showed you his last will?"

"And the insurance. I don't care about the money except to rebuild the house," she says, anguish in her voice. "But Grandpa was a planner. And he loved me. He knew Uncle Oliver was already settled, so he made me the main beneficiary. I was supposed to get close to a million dollars."

"Holy fuck," I whisper, outraged.

"It makes me sound so mercenary," she sniffles. "I'm really not like that. I'd be happy with just enough to build the house again, like it was. It's the least I can do to honor grandpa, I owe him that much."

I pull her into my arms. "I know," I say. "I can tell that's how you are." Anyone who'd live in a van to stay close to her family home doesn't give a shit about money. This delicate angel in my embrace makes me feel small and unworthy.

Until she tips her head back and finds my mouth again. Her kiss makes me remember she's naked under her robe and my fingers return to their journey down her smooth belly. She sighs against my mouth, and a tear rolls slowly down her face. "I have to tell you something else…" she whispers.

"Anything," I reply, brushing the tear from her cheek.

She exhales, like she is bracing herself. But nothing she could tell me would change my mind about her. Finally, she forms the words that must have been weighing so heavily on her, "The fire… it was my fault. I was going out that night and wanted to save Grandpa from eating another crappy TV dinner, so I made him a lasagna. I left it heating in the oven… but he didn't know, he missed the timer, and by the time he must've realized, it was too late. The smoke was too much," she lets it all out, tears falling the whole time. I can't imagine the guilt she must be feeling, how much this must have been weighing on her.

"Hey, look at me," I say, raising her chin so she meets my eyes. "It was a mistake," I continue, "you were trying to help him, there is no way you could have known that would happen when you put that lasagna in the oven. I'm sure he would still be proud of you, for trying to save the beach and rebuild his legacy. I am so sorry that this happened to you." I finish, and kiss the tears on both her cheeks.

She looks up at me with a shaky smile. "It's so nice to be able to tell you this. I really wanted you to understand. I hope we can get the property back."

"I do, and we will," I tell her. What I don't tell her is that it's not as simple as she thinks. There are already plans in motion, contracts lined up. If not me, it will be someone else. Her hand sliding up my chest and her soft whimper as my fingers ease between her thighs makes me forget.

Her pussy is slick and hot and when I find her swollen clit, she breaks our searing kiss. Her head drops back onto the comforter and I watch as her eyes flutter shut.

"Oh, what is that?" she murmurs, her hips arching into my touch. I flatten my palm against her smooth mound and push my fingers deeper into her slippery folds. My cock is straining, dripping and more than ready to be inside her. "Brian," she gasps. "Oh my God…"

It's almost as if she's never experienced something like this before.

My fingers still and her chest rises and falls in protest. She grips my hand and pushes it between her thighs again, squeezing her legs together.

"Don't stop," she moans. "It feels so good."

Holy shit. She's going to make me come without being anywhere near her hot little pussy.

"Is this your first time?" I ask. "Are you a virgin?"

Her cheeks turn red, but she still shoves at my hand. "Yes," she admits.

I can't help but grin, looking her up and down. Dark hair fanned out around her, blushing cheeks, and her kiss-swollen lower lip firmly between her teeth. Chest heaving and a pleading look in her eyes. "Make me feel like that again," she begs. "Don't stop. This is what I want."

I take her pushy hand in mine and kiss it before placing it on the bed beside her face. As soon as I begin to circle her clit again, she writhes and moans. I slide one finger inside her, almost passing out at how tight and wet she is.

"No one's ever touched you here? Never made your pussy this wet?"

Her head thrashes back and forth. She's seconds from coming. I need to see that. Being the first man to ever make her feel this way is a powerful thing and as much as I want to make her eyes roll back and hear her scream, I have to make this moment last.

"My beautiful Clarice," I say, moving my fingers as I watch her face. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Better than anything," she grits out. A moment later, her jaw goes slack and her hips rise.

Reaching for me with one hand and her other wrapped tightly in the bedding, she starts to moan. The sound crescendos until she slaps a hand over her mouth. I pull it away.

"No," I tell her. "Let me hear you scream."

She obeys me instantly, the sound reverberating around the big, airy room. I keep working her clit until she's limp, then fall beside her, shaking from holding my own need back. After her ragged breathing calms down, she rolls to the side and gives me a soft, weak kiss that soon turns more frantic.

"That was amazing," she whispers, keeping her eyes down. I tip up her chin, never wanting her to be shy around me. Her smile has me dragging her closer. "I want more, Brian."

"Oh, do you?"

She nods, searching my face. "How are you so handsome?" she wonders.

I tug her hair back so I can trail kisses down her neck. "How are you so delicious?"

"Teach me," she says and I stop to look at her, my mind overflowing with possibilities. "Teach me all the ways to feel good."

Is Clarice trying to kill me? "Absolutely. Now, where to start?" I wonder aloud, leaning down to kiss her some more.

She stops me, eyes dancing, cheeks turning red again. "Um, there's actually something I read about in a book once."

Grinning at her, I motion for her to tell me. "Anything you want, little girl. Tell your teacher all about it."

With a slightly nervous laugh, she pops up onto her knees, her perfect tits bouncing as she reaches for me. "Well, I was kind of naughty when I showed you how nasty the caves get, wasn't I?"

My fingers curl in anticipation. "Very naughty," I agree, tweaking a peach nipple.

"I think I might need a spanking."

My eyes go wide at her request. When she drops forward onto her hands, her cute little ass in the air, I completely lose it.