Secrets (Sea Crest Book 3) Read online

  Sea Crest Secrets

  Carrie Banks

  Copyright ©2019

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  [email protected]

  CHAPTER ONE

  TESSA

  He twirls me around the ballroom floor. My dress floats around me like a cloud. In his dark suit, he’s sexy as hell. His eyes flare when he notices the flush spreading across my cleavage as he twirls me faster and faster.

  I’m breathless.

  Waiting for his kiss.

  His touch.

  For him to take me.

  “I’ve captured you…my Cinderella,” he breathes against my lips. I practically swoon as his hands lower, pushing my hips into his. I moan, trying to rub against the hard bulge between his legs.

  “So , impatient my love,” he teases as he brings a hand between us to pinch my nipples through the silk fabric of my gown.

  “Please,” I beg, pushing my hips harder into his, needing him to ease the burning ache between mine.

  The alarm on my cell goes off; I slap a hand out hitting the damn thing so I can nestle under my covers and return to my naughty dream.

  “Where were we?” I ask my dark prince.

  “Right about here,” he replies, as his tongue traces my lower lip before plunging into my parted mouth. My greedy hands grab the back of his head as I angle mine so he can delve deeper.

  His palms cup my ass, lifting me and I spread my thighs wrapping my legs around him. The move allows my dress to part and aligns my center with the buckle of his belt. Shamelessly, I ride him. Using the friction of our moving bodies to satiate the burning need. I pant, bucking my hips, meowing like a cat in heat as I dry hump the shit out of him.

  “My dirty princess,” he growls as I gasp, fracturing into a million pieces floating around us in the air.

  "TESS! YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE TO WORK!"

  “I have to go.” I drop my head and kiss his lips before untangling myself and racing away!

  “Wait! What about me?’ I turn, watching with wide eyes as he cups the bulge between his legs with his hand.

  “I’ll take care of you later,” I promise as I dash out of the ballroom.

  My eyes blink.

  One hand is between my legs, the other cupping my own breast.

  “Shit,” I groan, into the morning light. I’ve become insatiable this summer. Being with Ry has awakened so many things inside of me. I remove my hands from where they were. I’m feeling sticky, hot, and unsatisfied. I cross the hall to the bathroom and turn the shower on not even bothering to wait for it to get lukewarm before hopping in.

  I close my eyes wishing I could return to bed, my dream, and maybe even make myself come. But there’s always tonight. And I won’t need a dream when Ry is real and will definitely take care of me. It’s finally the night of the white tent party. I’m the luckiest girl in the world and I know it. I bite my lip, my body is flushed and needy. Screw it. I need to take the edge off. I reach between my legs, finding my clit and pinch it hard before shoving two fingers inside. I lower the shower head and change the spray to jet, replacing my hand with the shower head. I close my eyes, pinch my nipples and take over where my dream left off.

  ***

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “I still don’t like that I haven’t met this boy yet…,” she wrings her hands. My dad shakes his head behind her back. I owe him big time. Mom didn’t even want me to date two months ago and I’ve done my best to keep Ryan away from her. I just don’t want her gossiping about him to all her friends. He’s better than that and so am I. But I know they’ll have to meet eventually. So far, she thinks I’ve been staying fully chaperoned on Barron’s yacht. I feel a twinge of guilt using the glitz and glamour of the Fosters’ on her to distract her from what I’m really doing—having an epic Hollywood romance.

  I grab my overnight bag and wave as I dash out the front door. In under ten minutes I’m pulling through the Foster’s gates. Ry gave me the code. I can’t believe how far I’ve come from reading about Barron online to having the keycode to his house.

  Ry’s Range Rover is already parked. I leave my bag in the car and walk to the side door. It opens before I can get there.

  His dark eyes assess me from head to toe. I stare back at him in his dark tux, still partly in disbelief that he’s mine.

  “I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he murmurs, picking up my hand to kiss the back of it.

  “And I’m the luckiest girl.” I step forward putting both my arms around his neck.

  “Hi,” he murmurs seconds before his kiss lands on my lips, causing every neve ending in my body to pop and sizzle.

  “Come on, we’re going to be late. Barron and Gabby are already there.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t just leave…my parents are getting antsy about wanting to meet you.”

  “I’ll probably be a disappointment if she meets Barron first.”

  “Maybe I’ll have you come over together. My mom will be too bust fawning over Barron to give you a hard time.”

  “Let’s do that then,” he smiles, as he opens the passenger door.

  We roll up to the Sea Crest Yacht Club and I’m in awe at the line of luxury cars and gloved footmen waiting to escort people inside. We move up in the valet parking line and my door is opened before Ry can round the car to me.

  “Tessa?”

  “Ty?”

  “Damn, girl. You’re looking fine.” His warm hand slips over mine as he helps me out.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He looks away for a second embarrassed. “Working. My sister got me this gig. She works for the catering company who set up.”

  “Excuse us,” Ryan shoulders Ty out of the way.

  “Tess? Who is this guy?”

  “Her boyfriend. Is that a problem?”

  Ty steps forward, “Maybe.”

  “What’s that?” Ryan growls.

  I step between them. Ryan’s arm snakes around my waist and holds tight. “Watch it high school boy. She’s with me.”

  “Oh yeah?” Ty looks amused as he folds his arms. “Just wait until fall and see who she’s with then—college boy.”

  Ry whips off his aviators and starts unfastening his tuxedo coat. “No. Please, don’t ruin tonight for me. Either of you.” I shake my head. I place a pleading hand on Ry’s flexed arm.

  “This isn’t over, Brentwood.”

  “Name the time and place…”

  Ryan’s nostril flare. “Don’t tempt me. I’ll snap your throwing arm, QB.”

  “Bring it, rich boy.”

  By now people are craning their necks to watch what’s going on.

  “Ry. Please. People are staring.”

  “Let them. I’m used to it.”

  “But I’m not.”

  He finally snaps out of his pissing contest with Ty. He links our fingers, “Remember, this girl is mine.”

  I roll my eyes and tug on his hand. “Can we go inside already?”

  Ryan’s left jaw tics as he stares down at our linked hands. Halfway up the walk to the red carpet he stops to cup my cheeks in his hands. He stares intently into my eyes then takes my mouth captive. I gasp into his possessive kiss feeling a dozen eyes pierce into my back. One harder than the rest. I turn feeling my swollen lips with my fingertips, locking eyes with a beautiful girl.

  Hers narrow.

  I rip mine away.

  Ry’s busy shooting daggers of his own at Ty as he valet parks cars.

  “Who is that?”

  His jaw tics. “My ex, Blaire.”

  So many hearts, beating for so many people. I look back at Ry hoping he doesn’t crush mine come fall. Even if he has th
e best intentions, Ty was right. I’ll be back at Sea Crest High and Ry will be in Cambridge mixing with girls who probably make more sense for him.

  “I’m sorry. That punk just pissed me the hell off the way he was staring at you like you were his instead of mine.”

  “He’s just a friend, Ry. Ty found me at prom.”

  Ry inhales sharply. “Did you have feelings for him?”

  “No. I tried but I couldn’t. The spark just was never there.”

  “Well it’s for him. I don’t like it. Especially since he rubbed my face in the fact that he’ll be with you at Sea Crest High in the fall.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Because my heart is always going to be with you.”

  He bends down to lean his forehead against mine. “The same goes for you.”

  I swallow hard, praying he’s right. Hand in hand we walk down the red carpet, under the arch full of twinkling lights and enter the infamous yacht club that us townies have always wondered about.

  It’s exactly how I imagined it would be.

  The Sea Crest Yacht Club sits on the hill as if it rules over the town. From my vantage point, the harbor shimmers below. Only the local elite mix inside the stone walls of this Tudor-style building.

  I notice there seems to be a distinct hierarchy. In the center of the room: Barron and Charles Foster welcome everyone as if this was their house.

  I smile at Gabby across the room. She stands proudly, flanked by the Foster men on either side. This is her moment—Gabby Cruz is the Queen of Sea Crest, even if it’s just for one night.

  She’s untouchable in her white Grecian-style dress and her hair twisted back with a few tendrils escaping.

  Ryan leads me over to them and I’ve never felt more glamorous winding through the crowd wearing my black Chanel evening gown. It is a few years old but classic in design. My mom paid what would be about three months of my car payment on it, but she assured me the dress would be useful for years to come.

  “You look stunning.” Mr. Foster greets me warmly, kissing both of my cheeks.

  Barron greets me in the same manner. I share a look with Gabby; both of us are in disbelief that this is our life now.

  Looking around the room, I take it all in: the dark wood paneling with photographs of sailboats racing across the harbor on the walls. The large hall is lit with soft sconce lighting and above us a massive chandelier hangs.

  I notice a second-floor balcony where Blaire and her date, Carter, stare down with obvious envy—at the two townie girls holding court with the Foster men.

  “Can I get you a drink?” Ryan asks wrapping his arms around my waist.

  “A Riesling?”

  “May I suggest something else for you? Riesling is typically a dessert wine.”

  “Oh, okay, just make sure whatever you order me is a white wine.”

  He looks down at me, “Tonight I’m going to start teaching you about wines.”

  He comes back holding a large glass, “It’s a Napa chardonnay. You’ll like it.”

  I nod holding onto the glass like a lifeline.

  “It’s time to be seated, shall we?” Barron announces leadings us outside to the white tent, where about forty tables are ready for their guests.

  It’s more beautiful than I ever imagined. Blue hydrangea centerpieces sit in white vases with the SYC logo. The glassware reflects the tea lights on the tables. On each of our plates sits a small wooden sailboat napkin holder. Large bulb string lights line the roof of the tent; no wonder why it always looked like it was glowing from afar.

  Our seats are at the head table, of course. Charles is a top patron here.

  “What the heck is this?” I whisper to Ryan when the empty seats at our table are taken by Blaire, Carter, and her parents. Ryan leans over and whispers, “Don’t worry about it sweetie, the Grants are also huge patrons.

  “Isn’t this awkward for you, since both you and Barron have been with her?”

  “Not really,” he answers making me choke on my wine. He gives my back a few whacks, and we try to disguise our laughter. “But I should tell you something… she ambushed me outside my dorm room. …wants me back hardcore.”

  “Well, she can’t have you. You’re mine now.”

  “That’s exactly what I said, babe.”

  The Fosters and Grants chat about the regatta, and Gabby even contributes to the conversation using her knowledge from working at Fosters.

  Ryan and I just sit back and enjoy each other’s company trying not to be too rude to the rest of the table. I’ve never been a mean girl and for me, it’s awkward sitting across from someone who still loves Ryan. Someone who knows what it feels like to fall asleep in his arms and wake the same way.

  As dinner starts, the conversation gets heavier. “I think Russia did interfere in the election.” Mr. Grants says to Charles.

  “No. There’s no evidence of any collusion. None of the polling places were hacked. He’s been cleared it’s time to move on.”

  “Yes, but where’s there is smoke…” Blaire trails off.

  “We’ll see. Congress still has investigative powers,” Charles replies.

  “What do you think Tessa?” Blaire’s smile is full of venom. My palms sweat. I don’t follow politics—it’s always one side screaming at the other.

  “I’m not sure. From what I’ve heard— you can’t trust anything in the news anymore. Too many people have biases. I learned a lot about reporting from my journalism class. I think that it’s hard to be impartial as a journalist if you feel too strongly politically… and that goes for both sides.”

  “Well said, sweetheart.” Ryan beams proudly, before placing a quick peck on my lips. “I think you all make excellent points, but the problems of the world won’t be settled here tonight. I’d like to raise my glass to free speech, different opinions, and the cool summer breeze in Sea Crest always being fair,” Ryan finishes to cheers around the table as we all raise our glass.

  The rest of the dinner is uneventful and as our plates are cleared the band takes the stage on the other side of the tent. Ryan and I excuse ourselves and take our glasses of champagne in hand as we stroll across the grounds. I feel so grown up and glamorous. On the arm of my real-life dream man nothing can go wrong.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” I whisper. From the far side of the rolling green lawn, I stare out across the inky water and see River Road staring back at me from the other side.

  “I don’t know what he sees in you, because from here… you’re nothing special.”

  I turn.

  “Isn’t this so cliché? The ex, sneaks over to try to wound the current girlfriend. It won’t work on me Blaire. Ryan already told me how you showed up at his dorm.”

  A smirk dances on her lips as she comes closer. “Heed my warning, girlfriend. He’s going to wreck you just as he did me and Emily. All you are is the next one in line. Good luck.” She’s pure evil as she turns and walks back to the party.

  I quickly dab each corner of my eyes and take a deep breath. Reaching into my purse, I grab my bottle of Paxil and swallow one pill with a sip of champagne.

  For the heck of it I take a Xanax, as well. I don’t want a panic attack to ruin my romantic summer night. I try to block it out, but in my head, I’m picturing Ryan kissing her… touching her and I hate it. She got under my skin and my chest starts feeling tight. I down my champagne and focus on the lights reflecting off the river below me.

  It doesn’t matter what she said.

  He’s with me now.

  I have a past, too.

  With one final glance at South Sea Crest, at the spot Gabby and I used to park at while watching this very hill, I turn and walk back to the tent snagging another glass of champagne along the way. The alcohol will work faster than my meds to relax my nerves.

  “Hey. Where did you go?”

  “Sorry. I had to take care of something.”

  I raise an eyebrow, inspecting his hands. “Well, you didn’t punch T
y out.”

  “Not yet… Come on, I want to dance with my girl.” He takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. The band is playing an Ed Sheeran ballad. I down my second glass of bubbly champagne, placing it on a table before I’m swept up in Ryan’s embrace. We sway to the music. I place my palm over his beating heart. He slides a hand up my back while his other threads our fingers together against his chest. His heart is racing. He’s breathing hard.

  “Ry? What is it?”

  He clears his throat. I lift my head from his shoulder. He bends down, pressing his forehead to mine. “There was a little girl here. For a moment—from behind…the way her hair was braided…it looked like her. I needed a moment.”

  “Ry,” I whisper, raising up to press my lips to his. I’m at a loss as what else to say. So, I say nothing and just hold him while letting him hold me back.

  I know what we have is real. Emily can’t touch this. Because our souls found one another and clung tight. He’s my calm in the storm and I’m his.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No Ry. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I promised you a night you’ll never forget.”

  “There’s still time for that.”

  “Then let’s just have the night you always dreamed of. Come on,” he says, pulling me closer and angling his head so his mouth drops on my waiting lips.

  In his arms, all the tensions from earlier melts away.

  It’s like a dream.

  The party has dwindled and only the younger couples remain.

  The night’s muggy and every time a server comes by offering me a glass of ice-cold, champagne—I take it. The alcohol combined with my anti-anxiety pills, makes me feel weightless.

  We keep dancing.

  I float in his arms across the dance floor until the band announces the last song. He holds me close and sings to me as I nuzzle my face against his neck.

  “I love this song. It’s soothing.” The notes float around us and I lean most of my body weight against him.

  “How many glasses of bubbly did you have?” he asks, supporting me.

  “About five, maybe six…,” I answer yawning.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “No, just supremely relaxed. I took a Xanax or was it Paxil or both? I can’t remember.”