Into You Series: The Complete Collection

26. Nia

CHAPTER 26

NIA

I tried to see Harry and Grant off in the morning, folding some snacks from the breakfast bar into napkins and saying things like “Well this was fun” and “I’ll see you when I get home!” but all the men insist on inviting them to the beach for volleyball and discreet, flask-based day drinking.

“Nia, we’re already down here,” Harry insists. “Plus, I already had a mimosa for breakfast so I can’t possibly drive.”

“Grant can drive.”

“We have two cars, remember?” Grant’s arms are crossed with a pair of swim trunks in his fist.

“Where did you get those?” I ask, pointing at them.

“Gift shop.” His thumb points to the corner of the lobby where there is indeed a small kiosk with candies, salty snacks, sandals, and swimwear.

“I can drive my own car back,” I continue, ignoring the tangent. Harry is shuffling his feet on the linoleum, causing tiny squeaking sounds.

“Stop that,” I say, and he rolls his eyes in response with a smile. I open my mouth to say more, but a voice calls from the sliding glass door whirring open at the end of the hall.

“Are you guys coming or what?” Ian stands in the threshold, and I’m trying not to drool. He’s shirtless, because why the hell not? As he draws nearer, I see the familiar veins trailing down his forearms, curling up to meet his protruding wrists and long, deft fingers…fingers I want inside me again.

“Nia, please let us stay,” Harry groans, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Cara’s mom has her for the next two days, and I love the beach.”

“Man, she’s not our mom,” Grant huffs, tossing the swim shorts over his shoulder. “We’re staying. Room key, sister.” He holds out his hand, palm up, and gestures for the keycard. I narrow my eyes, reaching into my pocket and laying it in his hand. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t. The last thing Grant needs is some type of vacation as a reward for his behavior. This feels like I’m enabling him, but at the same time I wonder if maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for him to hang out with men like Ian and Cameron. They’re good people, honest guys, but I also know just how stubborn Grant can be—almost as stubborn as myself. He won’t be leaving any time soon, invite or not.

“Thank you,” he says in a singsong voice, waving his hand for Harry to follow him to the elevators, which he does. There’s something about Grant that compels people. It’s his swagger, his confidence, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s our eldest brother.

The elevator door closes behind them and electricity sparks in my spine, all the way down to toes. I feel my gut give a slight tug and I know Ian is still looking at me—at all of me. His eyes wander from my neck to my chest and down my legs. Those blues could have X-ray vision, seeing through my clothes and taking in my naked curves, my hard nipples, and my steadily rising temperature, which threatens to make my face turn a bright red hue. I’m trying to keep my wits about me, but by the time Ian’s eyes land back on my chin, lips, and then eyes, I’m breathing heavy.

His eyebrow lifts. “How about that ‘next time’?”

My chest clenches and I inhale sharply. I laugh, looking both directions to cover whatever this conversation may appear to be to outsiders. The same older couple from the bar that insists on looking like twins are eyeing me, and I wonder if they’re the siblings from The Shining . I can feel their judgments from a mile away. I would tell them, It isn’t what it looks like , but this tension between Ian and me is exactly what it looks like.

“Seriously?”

“We could.” He pulls a card from his pocket. “I still have my room key.”

This beach trip is starting to lack a lot of the “beach” aspect, but I’m too excited to care.

“Fine,” I say, walking away, toward the elevator. I can hear his steps following behind me.

Even when we load onto the elevator with an unassuming younger couple, no doubt on their honeymoon given how frequently they’re touching each other, I feel no regret about this decision to go with Ian to his room. I’m positive he is not looking for anything more than a vacation fling, and neither am I. Who are we to deny each other this pleasure?

Then a quick thought has me considering that maybe this isn’t a fling. He’s proven himself to be caring with my brothers, one of which does not deserve praise given Ian’s first impression of him, but Ian forgave him with such grace that I wonder if maybe this man is actually capable of wanting more than a quick brush of his dick against my hand, which is exactly what he does now in the back of the elevator. He leans back and I flush red. He chuckles at the sight of it.

We exit the elevator and rush to his room. He barely has the door open before I’m pinned against it. We’re still exposed to the outside hallway and I’m both self-conscious and excited. He can’t even wait two more seconds to have his hands on me. They trace up my sides, to my shoulders, gripping my elbows to lift my hands above my head. He nuzzles his head in the crook of my neck and groans.

“Now?” I ask.

“Now.” His voice growls deep in his throat. He places a kiss on my collarbone and lifts his head to look down at me. His height is substantial and dominating, and although this sends a jolt of pressure from my stomach down to between my legs, I don’t want a domineering man right now. He presents a challenge, and I want to rise to it.

I raise my eyebrow, empowered by his forward nature. He knows what he wants and so do I. I want Ian Chambers. I want his arms, his hands, his muscular thighs, and his tongue everywhere he pleases.

His hand roams down to my hips then threatens to go lower but stays at my pelvic bone.

“Spread ’em,” he says with a grin. I grin back and start to shift my thigh outward.

“Oh shit,” a voice says from beside us, and we simultaneously whip our heads to the hallway where a jaw-dropped Ramona clutches a plastic bag and has her hand over her heart. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. Uhh…” She stumbles over her words, looking between us then averting her eyes. “Wow. Okay. Um…”

“What is it, Ramona?” Ian demands. His voice has an edge to it, and I instinctually lift an eyebrow. God, I need this man inside me right now.

“We were just—um—going to prepare for the bachelorette party,” Ramona says, her hand curved over her brow like a shield blocking her from the sight of us on the verge of ripping each other’s clothes off.

But of course. The bachelorette party. Definitely a more pressing matter.

Sure. Absolutely.

Not.

“Yes.” I twist my wrists and Ian releases them. Totally normal thing to do in front of his sister. “Grace needs us. Obviously.” I roll my eyes, attempting to be nonchalant. I smooth my skirt down and laugh a little, as if this is just a game. Ha! What a silly moment, Ian’s sister! You just walked into us playing policeman.

Spread ’em.

I don’t look at Ian, and I do not exchange any pleasantries. I wish I could say, Thank you for making me wetter than any other man ever has been able to or I’m desperate to pleasure you , maybe even I’ll moan for you again soon . But, no—I turn, shake his fucking hand , and walk away.

I hear Ramona laugh and say, “See ya, loser,” before rushing up next to me. “You’re so full of surprises, Nia. I knew you had some freak in there.”

“Where’s Grace?” I ask, ignoring whatever she said. Honestly, I don’t even fully register it until moments later. Freak? “Wait—what does that mean?”