Page 71 of Coach Sully
He finishes the topcoat on my pinkie toe, closes the bottle of polish, then sets it aside. “There,” he says, satisfied as he admires his masterpiece. “Not bad, right?”
He’s a natural. “If the coaching thing doesn’t work out, I’d say you have a real future as a nail tech.”
Picking up my calf, he presses a kiss to my ankle. “I’ll be sure to update my resume.”
I wiggle my toes. “Thank you for taking care of me…Daddy,” I add, smiling sweetly.
Slowly, he rises from the floor and kneels on the bed.Oops.Sometimes I forget uttering the d-word is the equivalent of a spy’s handler activating its sleeper agent with a trigger word.
I shake my head vehemently. “No, my toes aren’t dry!” I say between laughter.
He advances, throwing my ankles to the side, causing me to fall flat on my back. I settle into the mattress like a cloud.
Tucking his head into my neck, he nips at my earlobe. “You should have thought of that before calling me daddy.” His teeth sink into my shoulder, and I shriek. His playfulness is such a turn-on.
“How do you want it, Kendra?” he growls.Fuck.“Keep your legs open like a good girl…” My eyes practically roll back in my head just from his words. His hands grip behind my knees, andhe wrenches my thighs apart. “I bet if I fuck you just like this I won’t mess up those pretty toes of yours.”
I know how this ends. I’ll end up passed out, exhausted, and absentminded, and I haven’t even finished packing. After mustering all the self-control in my possession, I push him off me and shake my head. “I promise, as soon as we check into our rental, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, but every time you fuck me, my brain turns to mush, and I still have to finish packing my bag.”
Groaning, he plants one more kiss to my neck before rolling off and dramatically flopping on the bed. He knows it’s true. Before he changes his mind, I hop up and walk into the bathroom, piling my makeup into a travel bag and packing the rest of my toiletries. Have I ever traveled for something that wasn’t work related? If I have, I don’t remember it. Hell, I hardly remember the last time I took Christmas off! To be fair, it’s the only day I can work through without being interrupted by phone calls.
Sully has crashed into my life… and my landscape is forever changed.
SULLY
She looks out the small oval window as the plane cuts through the clouds. She’s so beautiful. Everything I want in my life is so close. Her hand rests on her lap, nails painted to match her toes, and I cover mine on top, threading our fingers together. It’s the first time we’ve ever held hands in public. It’s a small gesture, but for us, it’s a monumental milestone. It’s a promise that someday we’ll have this all the time.
We kept our distance in the airport and when the plane was boarding, but the first-class seats provide us with extra privacy, and with our friends across the aisle, we can be ourselves. On set, I find little ways to conceal my caresses. When she hooks up my microphone on my collar, I discreetly graze her stomach with the back of my hand. If she’s issuing me a new battery pack, our fingers brush. When no one is looking, I squeeze her side. Small gestures to remind her that no matter who they shoot me having dinner with, she’s the only one I want. Without fail, she gives me those bedroom eyes with every clandestine touch. She deserves more than secrets, but if that’s what she needs right now, I’ll follow her lead.
She glances down at our linked fingers, then back up to me and beams as we stare at each other. Her understanding of the importance of our public display of affection hits me in the chest. I swallow. This is big. It’s the first time I’ve felt this strongly about someone. Without letting go, I twist my body in order to cup her neck and lean over, placing my lips on hers. She sucks in a small gasp and grips my palm as she kisses me back, reciprocating every intense feeling I have for her.
We just arrived, but I’m already wishing our vacation was longer. Being ourselves and not having to hide our affection in front of our friends is everything. Barrett and I rented two small bungalows next to each other right on the beach. It’s perfect.
A shared firepit sits between the two, and we sit comfortably in adirondack chairs around the flames as the sun dips below the horizon. The wind from the ocean keeps our fire small, but it’s enough to keep us warm. Barrett’s mom, Sue, is playing in the sand with her two grandkids. She brackets Darby, who will beone year old before we know it, between her legs while she digs in the sand with Arthur, who will be seven next May.
Barrett smiles at me as we watch our women get on like a house on fire. When it comes to friends, I’m a believer of quality over quantity. I’m a quiet guy, Barrett is my closest friend, and it means a lot that he understood how important a vacation like this would be for me. He and Raleigh reconnected in Hawaii, and I suspect he was hoping this would do the same for Kendra and me.
She seamlessly fits in with the people closest to me. I’ve already pulled Raleigh aside and thanked her for supporting Kendra before she was ready to tell me she was pregnant. I wish it could have been me, but I’m just happy she had somebody to lean on, and I’m grateful that person was Raleigh. I like Raleigh, she has a good heart and went through a similar situation with Barrett when she became pregnant with Arthur. It warms my heart to see the friendship between them grow.
The sky turns to dusk, and Grandma Sue picks up little Darby, heading in our direction with Arthur excitedly running ahead and waving something in his hand. As he gets closer, I see it’s a big seashell.
“I found a big shell!” he shouts animatedly.
Grandma Sue passes off Darby to Raleigh, who’s holding her arms out for her daughter, then takes one of the open seats and chuckles as Arthur proudly presents his shell, displaying his find for all to admire.
“Wow! Can I see it?” Kendra asks.
Arthur hurries to show her up close. She leans forward in her adirondack chair, and he offers it to her.
“This is a special shell,” she tells him. “It’s a lightning whelk.”
“You guys! It’s a lightning whelk!” he announces over his shoulder as if we didn’t just hear it for ourselves.
“What makes it special?” he asks.
She turns the shell, showing him the top. “It’s a left-handed shell. See this?” She traces her finger over the whorl. “Its spiral goes in a counterclockwise direction, most shells coil in a clockwise direction.”
“Cool!” Arthur stares wide-eyed, hanging on her every word.