Whistler by K.L. Savage

Her lips are what second chances feel like. She’s kissing me with eagerness, her lips soft and pliant as she allows me to take control, something I never thought would happen given the circumstances.

It goes to show I can never assume to know someone’s healing process. Just because I have the privilege of tasting her kiss doesn’t mean another man would and I have a feeling that is exactly the case. I’ve seen her react around others and with me, she’s different.

I don’t know why she picked me, but I’ll always give her a reason to keep choosing me.

Skimming my hand up her spine, I cup the back of her head and apply more pressure, diving my tongue deeper into her tentative mouth. She gasps, her kiss stopping for a moment while I explore her depths. I growl when I taste how sweet she is, and I grin to myself.

I knew she was a cupcake.

My cock presses against my jeans, which are now wet from her clothes, and I know she can feel me. She doesn’t rub against me, and I don’t rock against her. I doubt that’s something she’s ready for, and I’m willing to wait.

I’d wait forever for her, no doubt about it.

Her hair is wet, and I slip my fingers through the strands. Bits of sand fall into my hand and the ends of her hair tickle along my forearm.

I slow the kiss, bringing it to a slow stop which has her whimpering in disagreement and curling her fingers against my stomach. Exhaling, I lean my forehead against hers and hold her, crossing my arms at the wrist behind her back, and swaying while the waves crash against the shore.

“Thank you,” she whispers so softly I barely hear it.

I brush my cheek against the top of her head and stare at the ocean. “For what?”

“Doing this. Going out of your way for me. Letting me experience something good.” She uses my stomach to push away, and I tilt my chin down to look at her. She’s fucking out of this world beautiful. All she wants is love. It shines from her.

And while those cornflower blue eyes have my heart enlarging with every beat, filling with how I feel for her, I’m going to make damn sure I give her what she wants.

“You don’t ever have to thank me for doing something that makes you happy. Plus, I think that kiss is thanks enough.” I tap the end of her nose and she smiles.

“I should have asked, I’m sorry. I was so happy and I've never felt so—”

I grip her chin and bend down, pressing a soft peck on her lips one more time. “You don’t ever have to ask to kiss me, Cupcake. Your kisses are something I’ve wanted since the moment I saw you.”

“Really? Why me? I’m nobody,” she scoffs, the wind changing direction and causing her hair to blow in her face.

“I know that’s what he made you believe, but to me, you’re somebody, Charlie. You’re my somebody. And I don’t care how long it takes to drain the poison he’s put in your mind; I’m going to show you that it’s you that has always been the somebody, while he has been the nobody. Understand?”

She nods, but I can see the doubt reflecting in her irises.

All good things take time and she’s a good thing.

“You’re shivering. Come on, let’s get to the hotel and get you in some dry clothes.”

“I don’t have any other clothes.” Her teeth clink together, and I rub my hands up and down her arms to warm her.

I groan when I think of us warming up the natural way, naked body against naked body. We wouldn’t have to do a damn thing, but I could hold her and fall asleep with her bare back against the front of my chest.

“We better do some shopping first. We need to get you a swimsuit too.”

“Can we get coffee?” she asks, her eyes heavy with sleep.

“Can we get coffee,” I scoff, pressing my hand against her lower back to guide her to the bike. “Of course we can. A Hellhound needs his fix.”

She chuckles and the way the morning sun is hitting her cheek, I’m able to see grains of sand. I reach my hand toward her face, and she flinches, an action that breaks my heart every time I see it. Like every time, I show her I’m not going to hurt her. I brush the sand from her face and her shoulders sag in relief when she realizes she isn’t going to be hit.

One day, I’ll be able to touch her face without her flinching and that will be a day that makes history.

I clutch onto her hips, noticing how wide and thick they are, and I rumble in approval, a hundred different scenarios run through my mind of all the ways I can pleasure her body. My cock presses against my zipper and precome beads at the slit and pools into the material. I can feel the trickle and the tingle of desire.

Lifting her easily, I place her on the seat and squeeze into my spot in front of her. When I hear the click of her helmet, that’s when I put mine on. Her arms circle around me, and I caress her arm with my fingers one last time before I jet out of the parking lot and onto the road.

I pass the flamingo pink motel we are staying in on the left, right on the water as I promised, and a ping of guilt hits me. I should have sprung for something nicer. This motel doesn’t seem like the nicest around and she deserves that.

The first surf shop I see isn’t far from the motel, so I pull into their parking lot and notice they are a store that has everything. Clothes, food, gas, and whatever else.

“What’s my allowance?” she questions, hopping off the bike.

“Allowance?”

“Yeah, like what am I allowed to spend?”

Damn, that fucker gave her an allowance? I can’t wait to get my hands on him.

“No allowance, Cupcake. You get what you want. I have the cash. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

She gives me a skeptical expression, a brow lifted in uncertainty as if she wants to believe me but has her doubts.

“Come on.” I hold out my hand to her and drag her to the front entrance. It’s a nice place for being on the beach with all the foot traffic it gets. The outside has huge, tinted windows with yellow and red ‘sale’ signs out front with boogie boards, noodles, skim boards, and floats. There’s a heavy trail of sand from the parking lot to the entrance where people have come in from the beach.

I point at one of the signs. “Look, Cupcake. Buy one get one bikinis. You’re going to get all of them, right? Model them for me?” I wink and her pale cheeks fire to a bright red, which has her freckles turning a shade darker too.

“I can get a few swimsuits?”

God, I hate how timid she seems right now, as if I’m about to pull the rug out from under her.

When we get inside the store, she shivers again from the air conditioning, and I drag her into the nearest aisle where the beach magnets with everyone’s name are. “I’m not lying when I say I want you to get whatever you want. There are no strings here. No false promises. No anger. No resentment. There’s just me and you. We’re going to enjoy the beach and you’re going to get whatever you want and I’m going to sit back and watch you be happy, okay?”

She nods, but I need to hear words. I lift her chin like I always do so she meets my eyes.

“Words, Cupcake.”

“Okay, Whistler. I’ll trust you.”

My smile makes her grin, and I bop the tip of her nose, something I’ve never done to a woman before, but with her, I seem to do it all the time. “Come on, then. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can catch a quick nap and hit the beach when the sun is at its highest.”

She squeals and runs off. I swear I hear the cartoon noise from the roadrunner she hurries from me so quickly.

While she shops, I hang back and give her some space. I don’t want her to feel like I’m hovering, but I do stay close enough where I can see her. I chuckle when I see she already has a huge pile in her hands and the sales representative comes and must offer her a dressing room because Charlie hands over all her items before cruising through another rack.

I’m simple. I grab a few plain shirts and even get a little fancy one that says “California” along the chest. I add two swimsuits to my pile, both black. I’ll save all the color for my Cupcake over there who is buying the entire rainbow.

I pass the section that has towels and grab a tie-dye one I know she’ll like, a black one for me, a purple one for her, and a green towel for me. That’s enough. If we need more, I’ll come back and buy some.

Charlie has another mound of clothes in her arms, and I wonder if she’s testing me to see if I’ll get upset with everything she’s picked. I really don’t care. I want her to have everything. Half of her face is visible as she peeks up at me through those long lashes.

“Hey there, Cupcake. Finding everything you need?”

“Maybe. I need your opinion on some things. Will you wait outside the fitting room?” She fumbles with the clothes in her hands and half of them drop onto the floor.

“Yeah, Cupcake. I’d love to have my own private show. Thanks for asking.” I blow her a kiss and bend down to gather the dresses and swimsuits.

Oh.

Fuck.

Me.

I lift up the tiny shred of material. It’s a one-piece, I think. I’m not sure since there isn’t a lot of material to it. It has a deep V that cuts into the middle of the swimsuit and the back…

I growl when I see the skinny thong that will ease between her plump cheeks. I bet this is a test. She’s never been able to wear what she wants. Men can look all they want at what is mine, but if they touch her, well, all bets are off.

I’ll be swinging my bat until their heads come clean off.

My bats are special and not expensive. I also do something different with them than other people do.

I add nails through the body, and I’ll replace the bat when the nails eventually fall out, which happens after I swing it one too many times.

“Does this come in more colors?” The words are deep and husky. The sick part of me wants one for myself so I can wrap it around my cock and stroke myself while I think of her wearing it.

“You don’t like that color? It’s black. You like black, right?” she sounds so unsure as she holds the clothes to her chest.

“You got this for me?” the animalistic rumble in my throat has her eyes rounding to moons.

“Um, yes?” She toes the ground.

“I want this suit in every color. Where did you get it?”

She points to the rack behind me, and I snarl as I hurriedly finger through the rack, grabbing every color I see. Pink. Green. Yellow. Orange. Neon colors too.

And then there aren’t anymore.

Why am I so sad about this?

“Whistler, that’s so many swimsuits. I don’t even know if I’ll ever have the courage to wear something like that.”

“And when you do, I’m going to pull up a chair and watch you spin around for me because Cupcake, this is the kind of swimsuit that brings a man to his knees. You get that, right?”

She stays quiet for a minute, and I take the opportunity to walk her to the fitting room. I slide the curtain aside, drop all the swimsuits on the bench and stalk out, dragging a chair from the room next to us and plop it right in front of Charlie’s so I don’t miss one outfit.

“Will it bring you to your knees?”

“What, Cupcake?”

“The swimsuit. Will it bring you to your knees?”

Christ, this woman is going to be the death of me.

I lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees as she pinches the red curtain between her fingers, staring at the frayed seam. “Charlie, I haven’t even seen you wearing it and I’m on my knees for you. Hell, I’m crawling for you, Charlie. Whether you get the swimsuits or not, I’m a fucking goner.” I might as well answer honestly, right?

I’d crawl over broken glass and burning coals just to have one glance at her.

“You’re so…”

Intense? Passionate? A bit obsessive?

I know.

“Amazing,” she finishes and slides the curtain shut.

Amazing, huh? Well, I’m not the kind of man who blushes but I’m a damn goner right now and the blood is rushing to my cheeks.

She’s reaping all kinds of havoc on my self-control.

The curtain parts and she’s standing there, arms stretched to either side of the wall as she poses. She’s in a simple dress to cover up her bikini. The straw hat she has on her head is huge and floppy. The sunglasses she has on are way too big for her face. To make them even more perfect for her, they are baby pink and shaped like hearts. She blows me a kiss and I catch it, stuffing it in my pocket.

She lifts the dress up and gives me a quick flash of the simple neon green bikini that I love. I can’t wait to peel it off her, but before I can look too long, she drops the hem of the dress and shuts the curtain.

“What do you think?” she asks me, wearing the tenth bathing suit she’s tried on. It’s bright red and she’s paired it with a floppy white hat that says ‘Beach Bum’ in black cursive letters and black sunglasses in the shape of lips to match.

Her style is so fun and loud. I can see just how much Kenneth was suppressing her by making her wear dresses and those ankle breakers called wedges.

“I think you look foxy, Cupcake.”

She claps her hands excitedly and jumps up and down. My eyes focus on her tits as they bounce from the movement.

Perfection.

“Hey,” she snaps her fingers in front of my face, “my eyes are up here.”

“You sure? Cause these were staring right at me,” I tease.

She giggles and the rings holding the curtain scratch along the metal rod as she shuts it. “Okay, last one.”

I readjust my erection, situating it to the left, and exhale when the pressure of the zipper is no longer pressing against my shaft. I’ve been hard for the last four hours. Doesn’t that mean I need to see a doctor?

Or shower…

“I need your help,” she says. “I can’t tie it in the back.”

No need to ask me twice.

I stand and look behind me to make sure the sales associate isn’t staring at me, and I slip by the curtain. I come to a standstill when I see her standing there in the black bikini I love so much. The cut down the middle stops at her navel, showing the fullness of her tits. She gives a shaky, timid spin and the thong of the bikini is settled between her cheeks, but I can also see a faint outline of her underwear underneath too. Good. Didn’t want her trying on stuff other people have without washing it.

Her ass is something men have fought and killed over. I clench my fists to stop myself from reaching out or worse, slamming her against the wall, pulling her swimsuit to the side, and fucking her raw until she’s screaming my name.

“Do you like it?”

She didn’t need my help at all. Charlie wanted us to have privacy because she knew how much I’d like it.

“No.”

Her shoulders slump.

“I fucking love it, and I’m going to leave because I’m too close to ripping it off you and fucking you against that wall.” I point to the wall across from her that has a metal hook in the middle holding the outfits that she likes.

“Oh.” Her lips make a cute O shape.

“Yeah, oh. And you’re getting all of them because there will be a day where I fuck you against a wall. It just won’t be this one.” I press a hand over my cock and her eyes drop between my legs. I snap my fingers, taking a page from her book, and say, “My eyes are up here Cupcake.” But I give her another once over, grunting a frustrated noise from not being able to touch her, and force myself to leave.

“Excuse me, Sir? Only one person allowed in the fitting rooms,” the associate says, her high-pitched nasally voice grating my nerves.

I sit down and don’t bother to hide the effect my woman has on me. “Sorry. She needed help with her thong.”

“Whistler!” Charlie scolds me from the fitting room, and I give a cheeky smile to the sales associate.

The annoying saleswoman who causes my erection to flag opens and closes her mouth and fiddles with her mousey brown hair before scurrying away. I give her a four-finger wave, a simple toodaloo.

When Charlie comes out, she’s wearing a new green flowy dress and by the looks of her hard nipples, she isn’t wearing a bra, and my mind comes to the conclusion of no bottoms either.

Out. To. Kill. Me.

“Hey, Sexy Cupcake,” I greet her with a low rumble, staring at her perky tits.

“Cupcakes aren’t sexy.”

“You obviously haven’t seen yourself.”

She shakes her head, but a small smile plays on her lips. She spreads my knees apart to stand in the middle between my leg and she runs her fingers through my hair. I hum in delight from her touch and close my eyes, enjoying her fully. She’s coming to me, touching me, needing me…

Nothing has ever made me feel better.

“You have everything you want, Cupcake?”

“What can I get from everything?”

“All of it.”

“Whistler, that’s too much. I didn’t expect us to get all of that.”

I slide my palms under her jaw, and she flinches but doesn’t pull away. “You can get all of it. I want you to. We are going to be here for as long as possible before I have no choice but to go back. And we can always come back out here, every weekend if you want, and you’ll have everything you want. Then we will come back in here and get you more stuff because I want to spoil my Cupcake rotten.”

“This is enough stuff to last me years.”

“Good. Plus, this is more for me and less for you, I promise,” I tell her, kidding yet not at the same time. Seeing her in a bathing suit is for me and it’s selfish, I know.

When it comes to her, I’m going to be selfish and selfless all at the same time.

She wants all the stuff? It’s hers. See? Selfless.

You mean I get to see her in a thong bathing suit? Fuck yes. Selfish.

Not ashamed of it either. Not even a little.

She gathers a pile of clothes and I do too, so she doesn’t have to struggle with all of the goodies. I rip the price tag off the white hat and black sunglasses shaped like lips and plop them on her. Her personality is bright and loud when she allows herself to show it and I want her to with me.

“I can’t wear the hat. It will blow off on the bike,” she says.

Good point.

“Fine but the moment we get on the beach, I want to see you wear it.”

She stands on her tiptoes and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, making me feel a bit boyish.

We can’t hold hands since ours are full of stuff, but we manage to pile some unhealthy snacks on the top of the mountain of clothes and towels.

The cashier couldn’t come fast enough. I was losing grip on my stuff. We groan in unison as we throw it on the worn black conveyor belt. I sneak in a few packets of starburst from the shelf as the lady rings us up, each item dinging to signal a new purchase, and run to grab a red lifeguard backpack.

“Did you get flip-flops?” I ask Charlie as I pull out my wallet.

“Oh. No. Good idea.”

“Get me a pair too. Size fifteen,” I tell her.

“Holy crap,” she whispers when she hears my size.

“You know what they say about big feet,” the cashier jokes, and Charlie gasps before hurrying away to the shoes. “I was only kidding,” the lady says, a hint of regret in her voice. “I didn’t get to finish the joke.”

“Big socks?” I finish it for her.

She nods hurriedly but doesn’t say anything else, too nervous to offend us. Charlie isn’t offended, I’m sure she’s overwhelmed though. Her mind went straight to sex, which there is no pressure about at all, but I can understand her wanting to run away from anyone that brings it up.

Charlie comes back with black flip-flops for me and bright blue flip-flops for her with small cupcakes on the plastic.

“She’ll wear these out,” I say, snapping off the price tag and handing it over.

Charlie’s old sneakers are plain, a brand that reminds me of Keds, but they aren’t. She slips off the wet shoes and slides on her flip-flops, sighing in content when her feet are no longer trapped in wetness.

I hold all of the bags as we walk out of the store. The sun is higher now, brighter and hotter. I catch Charlie aiming her face toward the warmth and she yawns, closing her eyes as she basks in the sun.

“You want to go back and take a nap before we tackle the rest of the day?”

“Yes, that sounds great.”

I stuff as much of our new purchases in the saddlebags as I can, and her arms wrap around me when my hands are free. “You’re going to have to carry the rest of it in the backpack.”

“Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me, Whistler.”

If it’s anywhere as close as how much she means to me, then I have an idea.