The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(37)

She shrugged, studying the beach. “I know, okay? I could say that I haven’t found anyone I liked but we both know I didn’t try. I tried a dating app a couple years ago but everyone on there was either a tourist looking for a threesome or someone I went to high school with.” Her mouth pulled into a wince and she shuddered. “It wasn’t for me.” She grimaced, glanced at me, and chewed her lip.

“You look like you want to say something.”

She pressed her mouth into a line before she took a deep breath. “Do you think Beck’s going to want to…” She made a noise in her throat.

“Do I think he’s going to want to what?”

“Have sex tonight?” Her voice was high and squeaky, like when we were on the sidewalk in front of her store and she was asking people out.

My brain skidded to a halt.

Beck. Trying to sleep with Hannah. With his hands on her. Touching her hair. Pulling the hair tie from her ponytail.

My skin was too tight. Frustration rolled through me with nowhere to go. I studied a scratch on my board. “I don’t know.”

Her chest rose and fell with another deep breath. “I don’t like it.”

“Sex?” My voice was hoarse. Keep it together, I warned myself. I had the bizarre urge to make Hannah feel safe, like she could tell me anything. I didn’t want her to be embarrassed for asking me these questions.

She nodded. Her face burned red.

Well, that answered my virgin question. “There’s a lot to unpack there.”

“Ugh.” She lay down on her board. “This is so embarrassing. Let’s not talk about it.”

“No,” I said, too quick before catching myself and toning it down. “Let’s talk about it.” I cleared my throat. “Why do you not like sex?”

She shifted on the board, floating away, and I grabbed the edge to pull her back to me, despite the leash attaching my board to my ankle.

Her fingers dipped in the water. “Um. When I hooked up with that guy back in school, it—” She made a noise, a mix of anguish and frustration. “It didn’t hurt, exactly—”

Rage. Yep. That was what this feeling was. Pure, white-hot rage rattled through my veins. Someone touched Hannah and they—

“It wasn’t the magical experience that I always read about in books.” She covered her face with her hands. “Okay, I’m going to go die now. My funeral is next week. Please bring flowers.”

I was going to ask this guy’s name, find him, and then beat the shit out of him.

Whoa. No. What the fuck? I wasn’t the guy who got into fights. Deep breaths. Breathing. Calm. Safe space for Hannah.

“You didn’t have an orgasm.” I held my voice steady and light, like we were talking about what we were going to eat for breakfast. Something neutral. Something that didn’t make me want to fucking kill someone.

She gave a laugh of disbelief. “Not even close.”

I didn’t know where to start. “What did he do wrong?”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this. I don’t talk about this with anyone. Not Avery, not Liya, no one.”

Pride washed over me. Pride and pleasure. She trusted me enough to talk about this stuff.

“We just didn’t connect.” One hand rested on her stomach, the other still dipped into the water, fingertips skimming the surface. The end of her ponytail had fallen into the water and fanned out, floating and following the motions of her board.

“Did you tell him what you wanted?” My gaze was glued to her face, watching for clues while she stared up at the blue sky.

“No.”

“Why not?” Same casual tone. Just me trying not to picture Hannah in bed with another guy, that’s all. Doing great. Not filled with a confusing horny rage.

“Um.” She stretched a foot out.

I tried not to stare at the curve of her tits under the wetsuit. I failed.

“I guess I didn’t know what I liked either? He—” She broke off with a noise of disgust. “It was like he watched too much porn.”

A thousand images flooded my head and I felt sick. I hated this. “Explain.” My tone was rougher than I meant.

She covered her face again. “Oh my God. Okay, he did this thing where he put his hands on me and like, pulled my, um, lady parts apart and it hurt.”

I wanted to murder this guy. This fucking guy who didn’t know what he was doing, put his grubby little hands all over my Hannah and made her uncomfortable. He ruined an experience for her that should have been amazing. He should have rocked her world and instead, he made her not like sex.

“Was that too much information?” She lifted her head, shot me a tentative glance, and I quickly cleared my throat and shook my head.

“Nope. He sounds like a dumbass.”

She laid her head back down on her board and snorted. “Yeah. He was.”

We were quiet a moment. I had the urge to pull her board closer and put my mouth on hers. To race her back to shore, throw her over my shoulder, and take her back to my bed, where I’d give her a do-over of every sexual experience she had ever had.

With me, it would be better. Hotter. I’d make her writhe under me. I’d go down on her until she pulled my hair and gasped my name and couldn’t handle how good it felt. I was desperate to see how she looked while she came, all hazy and flustered and breathless.