Jasmine’s eyes fluttered open. White curtains billowed in the early-morning ocean air. The fiery horizon cast her room in an orange hue. It almost seemed like any other morning. Except for the warm body curled around her and the delicious soreness between her thighs. She slammed her eyes shut and waited for regret to wash over her. But it didn’t come. Its absence was unsettling. Even though the wave of shame after her sexual encounters was the worst part, at least it was predictable. So, what does this mean?
Atlas stirred, snuggling closer, his hard cock pressing between her thighs. She bit her lip. Her core throbbed, wanting more. But what if he wakes up and regrets everything? Or worse—what if he thanks me for the good time and leaves early? But more importantly, would she be okay when he walked away in a few days?
She still had to tell him about Zoey. She’d tried. But he’d made a strong case, and then after that kiss she just hadn’t been able to focus on anything except his body on hers. She shook her head. Because I’m weak.
Cassidy’s face flashed in her mind, reminding her to reframe the self-talk.
I had a moment of weakness, but it doesn’t mean I’m weak.
Self-correction felt awkward. Maybe, with time, it would get easier.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Atlas’s voice was still thick with sleep.
“I’m wondering what your plans are for the day?”
He pulled her so that her head landed on his chest, and he kissed her forehead. She melted with the sweet gesture. For the first time in her life, she felt cherished.
“I guess that depends on what you have planned. Unless you’re sick of me.” He chuckled, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
How could one man affect her so much? “I have a group of teenagers from our friend Aaron’s Hope Facility coming over for a cookout and a day at the beach.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“It’s a center for homeless LGBT+ teens and kids from rough backgrounds. Aaron gives them a safe space to live in, hang out, get resources, or whatever they need. I have to set up and help cook when the volunteers get here.”
“So . . . I could help too?”
Again with the heart melting. “You don’t have to. You’re still my guest.”
“I want to spend the day with you. And if that means I help feed a bunch of hungry teens, that’s what we’re going to do.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
And she would tell him about Zoey before then—the truth about his daughter. Or maybe she should just tell him now and get it over with.
“But first, I want breakfast.” Atlas pulled his arm out from under her and crawled down her naked body.
“Oh—oh!” Jasmine said as he spread her legs. His idea of a morning meal was just fine with her.
His tongue delved between her folds, the fluttering sensation lighting her up with yearning. He coaxed his finger inside her as he lapped at her clit. She wriggled her legs closed. The sensations were too much, her sex oversensitive.
His fingers gripped her thighs and pressed them apart. The scruff of his beard raked across her tender flesh, tantalizing and teasing. His tongue was torturously gentle. Conflicting sensations spun her up. Pressure built. He added another finger, sliding in and out of her slick pussy, fueling the ache. She writhed. Her hands grasped the sheets. Her eyes closed. Tension cinched tight. Heat bloomed, starting in her womb and blanketing her in an all-out blaze. Icy sparks coasted over the fine hairs of her body. Pleasure gathered before spilling out as a warm gush of liquid gushed from her.
“Fuck yes,” he growled, sucking her clit. He curled his fingers, hitting that sensitive spot, sending her flying towards the heavens.
Her eyes burst open. Vivid color blinded her. Every muscle clenched as her orgasm rocked through her. Shattering. Splintering. Obliterating everything she’d ever known.
“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen is watching you come,” Atlas said, sliding his slick fingers out of her. His eyes darkened, his chest muscles taut. His large cock head was rock hard with a drop of arousal glistening at the tip. He was beautiful. A god chiseled from alabaster stone. Much like the myth he was named after, the man seemed to have the strength to carry the world on his shoulders.
Could he be strong enough for me? Hope sparked. And she was too blissed out to smother it before it could grow. What if this could be my new normal? Her chest tightened. Waking up in bed every day next to this man? Sharing her body, sharing his, and merging their lives?
He climbed in next to her once more, pulling her close and holding her. She closed her eyes, fighting the happy tears that wanted to fall. Every part of her was warm, fuzzy, and relaxed. For once, she actually wanted to return the pleasure for him. Maybe if she didn’t think about it, she could do it. If anyone deserved her attempt, it would be Atlas—the man who’d given her so much without even knowing. Who’d made her feel cherished and worthy. The man who’d given her Zoey.
She kissed his chest and down his toned abs, licking through the dips of his muscles and along his hip. She gripped his cock. He hissed before gritting his teeth.
“Fuck, I might come from just the image of your mouth on me.” He ground out.
She smiled seductively, a rush of confidence shooting through her. If she kept her eyes open, maybe she could stay present. His arousal dripped from the tip. She spread it over the head with her thumb. His dick throbbed in her hand, hardening even more than she’d thought possible. She leaned down and licked the top, tasting his salty essence.
“Jasmine,” he groaned.
I can do this.
She slipped her mouth over the first few inches before bringing her mouth back up.
“Fuck, yes!”
Pride surged through her. Her confidence grew. She hadn’t tried to give anyone a blow job since she was thirteen and that had ended in a panic attack.
She sucked him farther in, keeping her eyes on Atlas. His hands fisted the sheets. Grey eyes gazed upon her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His mouth glistened with her release, like she’d marked him. Like he was hers. His stomach muscles tightened. His cock twitched against her tongue. Empowered, she sucked a little harder, took him a little deeper.
He wove his fingers in her hair, driving her deeper.
“That’s it, baby. Take it all.”
She froze. Panic shocked her out of her body.
Grunting noises echoed, getting louder. The tang of her stepfather’s rancid sweat soured in her mouth. She gagged, trying to beg him to stop, but her mouth was too full to make a sound. Survival skills took over as she focused on stealing breaths against the prison of his hands pushing her head down. She floated above, watching as if it were happening to someone else.
But it wasn’t.
It was happening to her.
“Jasmine!” Atlas’s voice sent her rocketing back to reality. He shook her. He came back into blurry focus. Wetness spilled over her cheeks.
“Baby, what happened? Are you okay?” he asked, frantically searching her face.
She clenched her eyes closed, embarrassed and ashamed. This was why she couldn’t have a normal relationship with anyone. What man wanted a woman who couldn’t give blow jobs because they triggered her? Especially when they found out why.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
Why was he of all people apologizing? She was the one who was broken. It only made her silent tears turn into sobs. He held her as she fell apart, stroking her hair and whispering, “I’ve got you. You’re safe. No one will hurt you again. I’ve got you.”
If anything had held her back from this man, it was gone—obliterated by his tender care. He knew. And still, he stayed. She sobbed harder as he held her even tighter. His presence grounded her as she expelled some of the shame and pain she’d held in for so long.
Her shaking turned to slight trembling. Her sobs subsided.
He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. After turning the shower on, he kissed her forehead, tucking her closer while they waited for it to heat up. He stepped into the hot spray and set her to her feet. Water sluiced over her, washing the tears and the memories away. He grabbed the shampoo and squirted some in his hands before lathering it in her hair.
He took up so much space, barely fitting in this small shower with her. But his touch was gentle. He held her like she was precious. He rinsed out the shampoo, tilting her head against his chest before repeating the actions with her conditioner, massaging her skull. He picked up her body soap and squirted some on the loofa before carefully scrubbing every inch of her body. Starting at her feet, he worked his way up her legs. His hands swirled over the pinkening of her skin as if he could wipe the memories clean. The gentle sensation of her sponge dipped over her sex and across her hips. His eyes flashed to hers every so often as if to make sure she was still okay with him touching her. He used his other hand to massage her back as he washed her stomach up to her breasts. Taking care, he brushed the soapy material over her arms and towards her back. The tension left her body as the soap dripped down the drain.
Her chest squeezed. Her heart melted into a gooey puddle. Warm affection radiated from every pore. What if Atlas was the man for her? The one who knew all her secrets . . . and stayed? “Atlas?”
“Yeah, baby?”
I’m falling in love with you. “Thank you.”
His brow creased. “Anything for you, honey.”
She closed her eyes, fighting off another bout of tears. He stood, wrapping his arms around her. He held her like that until the water turned cold. She still had to tell him about Zoey. Would he hate her for keeping her from him? Monday was only two days away, and he’d have to leave. But for now, she’d savor this. Maybe it was selfish of her.
But when you’d been starved of love your whole life, you hung on to it with a viselike grip when you finally got it. Because death was better than having to live life without the richness of genuine love.
Atlas left her to get dressed and went to his own room to do the same. He told her not to worry about the guests’ breakfast, that he had it handled. She was on strict orders to relax until she had to come down for the event with the teens. So, for the first time, she let someone else take over her duties with the inn without protest and rested.
Jasmine blinked her eyes open. The warm sun shone on her. She’d fallen back to sleep. Picking up her phone, she checked the time. Shit. She was late. Clicking the waiting message, she shot out of bed.
Atlas: Aaron and his crew are here. I’ve got everything covered until you’re ready to make an appearance. Take your time.
Could this man get any more perfect? She smiled, tucked the phone in her pocket, and headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth and relieve herself before getting changed.
She made her way downstairs, following the voices bleeding out from the kitchen. Atlas stood in front of the stove, laughing and joking with Marge. The older woman was the main cook at Hope Facility, and she was a riot.
A few of the younger male volunteers stood nearby, ogling Atlas from afar. She didn’t blame them; he was a sight to behold. Especially in the laid-back look of board shorts and a tight-fitting T-shirt.
“So what’s the secret to the sauce?” Atlas asked Marge.
She put her hands on her hips. “You know a lady never reveals her secrets.” She winked, reaching out to grab his bicep. “Even if the one who’s asking is as fine as you.”
He chuckled again, his gaze meeting Jasmine’s. “Hey, sweetheart. Marge here was just showing me how to make a proper chili dog sauce.”
“She makes the best in town.” Jasmine smiled.
Marge cut her an unimpressed look. “In town? Honey, you know my shit’s the best in the state.”
Jasmine laughed. “You’re so modest.”
Marge brushed her long, grey dreads back. “Modesty is for boring people.”
Atlas stirred the large pot.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and bring these out to Aaron. I got this handled.” Marge gave the platter with the packages of hot dogs to Atlas.
“Yes, ma’am.” He took it as Jasmine opened the back door, holding it ajar for him.
“Jaz!” Aaron said, holding out his arms for a hug.
She walked over to him, reached up on tiptoes, and squeezed him back tightly.
“You’re too short to hug. I feel like I need to pick you up like a kid.” Aaron laughed.
She pulled away and slapped his chest playfully. “Maybe you’re the one who’s too tall. Remember, great things come in small packages.”
He chuckled.
“Have you met Atlas?” she asked.
Aaron nodded. “Yeah, we met earlier. Thanks for the help, man.”
“My pleasure. Is it okay if I throw these on the grill?”
“Yup. It’s hot and ready,” Aaron said, opening the top.
After lunch, the group of teens spread out on the beach. Some played volleyball while others tossed the Frisbee back and forth. A few of them were brave enough to swim in the cold Atlantic waters. Zoey would love this when she got home from Bently’s.
“These kids are pretty cool. This seems like a great program.”
“Thanks,” Aaron said.
Atlas pulled out a black card from his pocket and handed it to Aaron. “Give me a call next week. I’d like to donate something to your cause.”
She eyed the matte card with the words Remington Empire written in glossy writing.
“I’ll hold you to it.” Aaron smiled and reached out his hand to shake Atlas’s.
Two of the volunteers walked over.
“He can grill my meat anytime,” Ted joked.
Atlas flashed them those pearly white teeth.
“Yeah. You can slip your wiener into my bun.” Dan winked.
“I’m flattered. Truly. But I’m afraid I’m taken.” Atlas winked at Jasmine.
Her heart soared. He’d just publicly acknowledged her as his, even after the mess upstairs. Could this be real? Did he want this to last longer than Monday?
“Lucky bitch.” Dan hip-checked her.
She laughed. Jasmine was the lucky one for once, and she was going to bask in the light as long as it lasted. But what would happen when she told him about Zoey tonight?
Over the rest of the afternoon, her smile never seemed to leave her face for long. She played with the kids. A few of them asked about part-time jobs and helping around the inn. And she promised to keep them in mind. She needed the help for sure, but her funds were too low to hire an employee just yet. She passed out the food when it was done.
Atlas’s eyes never strayed far from her. Where she’d expected pity, there was instead some unnamed emotion shining back in his grey gaze. He eventually joined a game of touch football with the kids, and they had no problem piling on him in a tackle. He didn’t seem to mind, laughing and joking along with them, clearly comfortable despite being surrounded by almost all gay men. It only made her respect for him grow. Maybe for once in her life she’d made a good decision. Maybe this was her second chance.
Atlas came over, wrapped his arm around her, and kissed her temple. “How are you doing?’
“Amazing.”
And it was the truth. Nothing could bring her down from this elation. It was like she’d swallowed sunshine.