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  Okay, Then

  By Addison Albright

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2019 Addison Albright

  ISBN 9781634868600

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  Okay, Then

  By Addison Albright

  “Okay, then.” That’s what Sam had said. His leg had bounced like it always did when he was nervous. It was endearing, and one of the things that drew me to him. His grin was another. I melted a little each time he leveled it in my direction, which had made it incredibly hard to hide my attraction. That ship had now sailed. For better or for worse, Sam now knew of my interest, and had agreed to a date.

  His words had come at the end of a conversation we’d had at breakfast yesterday morning after we’d cleared up a misunderstanding regarding my intentions when I’d previously asked him out. Well, I suppose technically I’d asked him back to my room for a drink, so I couldn’t actually fault him for not understanding that I truly wanted to date him, not just have a fling while we were here in Honiara collecting research data.

  “I’m sorry, Henry,” Sam said now as we approached Mambo Juice’s entry. “I wasn’t thinking straight, obviously.”

  Perspiration dripped down my face. My pits felt more than a little damp, and sweat matted my chest hairs. The shower I’d taken right before we’d left the Solomon Kitano Mendana Hotel, where we were staying a few days before heading to the smaller islands in the chain, had been a complete waste of time. But even if I’d known Sam would suggest we walk a mile to the Mambo Juice, I probably would have bathed anyway. I wanted to impress the man, after all.

  “I’m fine,” I replied. And truthfully I was; other than feeling, shall we say, somewhat less than fresh, the trek and the heat didn’t bother me. We’d both been out in it all day for most of a week, and would be spending at least five more weeks in the islands before heading back to Seattle. This wasn’t the first research trip either of us had taken to a tropical location, and we were both in good health and in the prime of our lives.

  Sam looked miserable, biting his lower lip. His body seemed tense, and his brows drawn together. Not unduly physically uncomfortable, but like he was mentally kicking himself in the ass for having suggested we walk.

  “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. If I can’t handle one little mile, then I’m a pretty sad case with no business attempting field work.”

  He cocked his head to the side and stared curiously at me as I attempted a reassuring smile. His stance relaxed.

  “You’re—” He cut off whatever he’d planned to say. His eyes widened and I got the distinct impression he’d been thinking aloud, and hadn’t meant to say anything.

  “You’re what?” Because, really, it was better to find out now, before we fucked up our professional relationship beyond any hope of repair by, well…fucking…if there was something about me that bothered him. We’d been colleagues in the university’s biology department in Seattle for ten months, so we knew each other fairly well. I hoped to hell he wasn’t having second thoughts about dating me.

  “You’re…you’re actually trying to impress me, just as much as I’m trying to do the same with you.”

  I laughed and pressed a palm to my heart. I was so damned relieved to hear those words. “You’re damned right I am!”

  His Henry-melting grin appeared, and I was lost. Sam wasn’t conventionally handsome. His nose was a bit large for his face, and his ears might’ve made Dumbo jealous. He was a little on the shy side, but he was the nicest man I’d ever met, with denim-blue eyes that always exuded kindness and patience. He was a fortunate blond who tended toward easy tanning rather than burning, although he still had to be careful here near the equator, of course.

  In many ways he was my polar opposite, since I had an outgoing, speak-before-you-think personality, with brown hair and eyes. I was only slightly smaller than average, but the muscular build on his almost six-foot frame made my lean, smaller body look scrawny in comparison.

  We pushed through the doors into the café, and I said, “I’m ordering the biggest, baddest smoothie they have.”

  “You’re not hungry?”

  “Well, yeah, that, too. But definitely a smoothie to go with it.”

  “Look.” He gestured at the menu. “A Vegemite and cheese toasted sandwich. I’ve always wanted to try Vegemite.”

  I cringed. “Don’t do it. I tried a fingerful of the stuff once. It’s nasty.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s not meant to be eaten straight up like that. I’m going to get it.”

  I shuddered. “I think I’ll stick to the tossed salad. Oh, The Hydrator sounds perfect for my smoothie…coconut, watermelon, and lime.”

  “I’m going with Mambo Magic. Pineapple, coconut, and lime.”

  We placed our orders, then took our food to the outdoor seating area once it was ready. It wasn’t as if the indoors was air-conditioned, anyway.

  I stabbed a fork into my salad and watched with morbid curiosity as he bit into his sandwich. He grinned mischievously and took an extra-large bite.

  “So?”

  “It’s not bad.”

  “That’s not exactly a glowing recommendation.”

  He laughed. “That’s a figure of speech. I kinda like it.” He held it out to me, slowly waving it back and forth. “Try it.”

  If his gesture was meant to entice me, it missed the mark, but I didn’t want to be ungracious. I tentatively leaned forward and took a small nibble, making a point of overlapping his own bite mark.

  It really wasn’t bad. Not when it was properly used as a condiment, thinly spread onto the bread. The flavor was… interesting.

  “Umami?”

  He nodded. “Right. The fifth flavor.”

  “Okay, I’ll admit it,” I said with a smile. “You were right, and I was wrong.”

  “I’m trying to expand my horizons. My New Year’s resolution was to try ten new foods this year. This makes five, so I guess I’m on target.”

  “Any regrets among them?”

  He winced. “Grasshoppers.”

  “Gross. Apparently my resolution was to give up sex.”

  Sam snorted. “I’d rather eat tripe.”

  “Ew. Just when I was starting to elevate the value of your opinion.”

  Sam’s grin had a sly tilt. “How about this—you eat another large bite of Vegemite, and you can be off the hook with your ill-advised resolution.”

  I wagged my fingers to signal my agreement—I wasn’t stupid—and invite him to extend the sandwich back toward me. Vegemite might be an acquired tas
te, but it was already growing on me, so I chomped out a fair-sized chunk without any hesitation.

  I leaned back in my chair as I chewed and stared into his eyes. He blushed, but held my gaze.

  I swallowed. “So, what were you thinking when you suggested we walk here?”

  Sam’s blush deepened. That was another one of his charming traits. “It sounded romantic. In theory, anyway…obviously not so much in practice.”

  My head tilted to the side as I mulled over his words. Had any of my exes ever made the effort to actually romance me? I didn’t think so, and I liked the idea. No, I loved it. This man, whom I’d secretly admired for the entire preceding school year, was old-style courting me.

  “That’s romantic,” I said.

  “No, it was hot and sweaty—and not in a fun way.”

  “I mean the fact that you’re trying to be romantic is in itself romantic…and very sweet.”

  He grinned again and took another bite of his sandwich. I chewed a forkful of salad and strategized. Hand-holding…that would be a nice romantic touch for the walk back, wouldn’t it? Fuck it. It was something I wanted to do regardless of ulterior motives. I was incredibly proud of the fact that Sam wanted to be with me, and I didn’t care who knew that I liked him right back. I sensed Sam was a kindred spirit with whom I could give my sappier side free reign.

  It was freeing. Guys I’d dated in the past had been more like friends with benefits. It was almost as if Sam would be my first real boyfriend. I took a long swig of my smoothie and looked forward to the walk back to the hotel…and whatever might happen after we got there.

  * * * *

  We trudged up the walkway toward the hotel. I’d fucked up. We’d held hands, but I’d chickened out and clammed up regarding making plans for the coming evening. Hell, I hadn’t even mustered the courage for a little hand-squeezing.

  The sun would set soon. On one level, I wanted to move into high gear, romance-wise, with candlelight and soft music and sweet gestures. On the other hand, I didn’t have the supplies—candles, speakers other than earbuds to play music on my iPod, etc.—and this was our last night in Honiara until shortly before our return flight to Seattle. On the smaller islands, we’d be sharing the hospitality of the native residents, and privacy for intimate encounters would be scarce to non-existent.

  Not that waiting to take things to the next level was necessarily a bad thing. I just didn’t think it was needed. We were already well-acquainted. It’s not like there was any significant reason to date a while first before moving on to sex. Dammit. Why was I so nervous with Sam? I’d never had any trouble propositioning guys in the past.

  At the landing where I would turn left, and Sam would turn right, we paused, and Sam said, “Your shower or mine?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled his feet. In other words, he said it awkwardly as hell, and his face turned beet red, but I think the smile that split my face reassured him, because his grin emerged.

  “Wherever you’ll be more comfortable.” I gave his hand an overdue press.

  “Mine,” he replied without hesitation.

  “Okay, then.” My words echoed his from our conversation yesterday, and his grin widened, perhaps remembering that himself.

  I followed Sam to his room. Like mine, it was in the older, cheaper wing of the hotel. The air-conditioning worked, and we had running water. Those were about the best things I could say about our rooms. The bedding was clean, although the mattresses might be older than me. I supposed the painted cinderblock walls and tile floors were relatively easy to keep clean. The plumbing fixtures were ancient but functional. Housekeeping wasn’t overly concerned about mildew control.

  I wore flip flops in my shower. I’d borrow Sam’s here. We wouldn’t be able to fit in the shower together anyway. Come to think of it, it would have made more sense to separate for our showers and meet up afterward, but once Sam had made my night with that cheesy line, I could hardly suggest that now.

  “Why don’t you go first,” said Sam.

  “Sure.” Then I stretched up to kiss him. Our first kiss. I didn’t want the two of us to stand around self-consciously after our showers, wearing only towels around our waists, each looking awkwardly around the room before one of us finally said or did something embarrassing. Hopefully a spontaneous move now would diffuse the situation.

  I meant for it to last only a few seconds—an ice-breaker, so to speak. But Sam’s hands came up right before I pulled away, one cupping the rear of my head, holding me in place, and the other on my back, pulling me closer as our lips parted, and the kiss deepened.

  I wasn’t going to argue with that. Sam had been the focus of my fantasies since we’d first met. I’d been dreaming of touching him, kissing him like this for months.

  One of my hands traveled up Sam’s chest before settling on his shoulder. The other went around his side to press against his spine. I melted into his embrace as his arm around my waist tightened.

  I felt light-headed, absolutely loving his strong arms firmly holding me in place. It was everything I’d imagined, and more. Beyond being hair-raisingly physically arousing, the sensations rippling through me played to my emotions.

  He moaned, and the strength of his arousal pressed above mine. His longer legs had me grinding against his upper thigh. The pressure of his hand, lowered to my ass, helped me intensify it.

  The kiss broke and Sam’s mouth moved to my neck. Other than my cock, that was my strongest erogenous zone. I shuddered helplessly as he nipped and sucked his way along my collarbone, up to the area directly below my ear. I whimpered, and he settled in, obviously picking up on my appreciation. I became lost in a sensual fog, my head thrown back, rutting against Sam’s firm thigh as he nuzzled my neck.

  I longed for the kind of relationship that had eluded me thus far and that Sam seemed to be offering. Complete and balanced on every level—emotional, physical, intellectual—and Sam was ringing all the bells. We respected each other as colleagues, and I’d always liked him as a person.

  Trembles coursed through Sam’s hands has they toured my body, stopping briefly to cup my face before journeying south. I wanted to back down and woo him sweetly, slowly savoring every inch of his body, but I was utterly incapable of stopping. Romance would have to wait as long-denied lust ran its course.

  In the jumble of our limbs, my other hand joined my first, holding on for dear life, wrapped around his neck and shoulders as both of his hands gripped my ass. His skin grew flushed as I backed him against the block wall, and he spread his legs. We were almost cock to cock, pounding against each other.

  Our mouths once again united, and I delighted in the persistent sweet and sour flavors of his smoothie, and the mix of lingering savory umami and Sam’s own essence. As our tongues explored, one of my hands kneaded the muscles of his shoulder, and the other raked his hair.

  Sam pulled me to him as his body stiffened, and his hips ground erratically against mine. He groaned into my mouth, and I became lost in a frenzy of hedonistic gratification as I found my own electrifying release.

  The kiss broke as we panted and weakly clung to each other. I turned my face to land a few approving kisses on his neck. He rubbed my back as our breathing settled.

  “Sorry,” Sam murmured. “I feel like I used you. I didn’t want it to be like that.”

  I leaned back to look him in the eye. “Don’t be sorry. That was fucking hot, and variety is the spice of life, right? We’ve got all night to work up to a less…immediate do-over.

  Of course, as soon as I’d said it, I realized I’d just invited myself to spend the night with him. His relieved grin eased my concern.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Not to mention all the time we’ll have to learn everything about each other once we’re back in Seattle.” As long as I was verbalizing assumptions, I might as well go for broke.

  His grin widened, and I relaxed into his cuddle as his hands pulled me close.

  “Okay, then.”
/>
  THE END

  Author’s Note

  “Okay, Then” revisits the main characters from ’Til Death Do Us Part, and takes place within the timeline of that novel, available at JMS Books. Start reading now!

  * * * *

  ’Til Death Do Us Part

  Prologue: Unsettling News

  Nash rubbed his hands over his face and raked them through his spikey blond highlighted hair. “Seriously, Sam,” he said as he plopped down on the sofa. “How can you stay so calm, with the wedding only a month away?”

  “Isn’t that the wedding planner’s job? To do all the worrying for us?” But Sam knew better. Harley, their wedding planner, was also Nash’s best friend. Although abundantly competent, Harley was high strung and tended to run every little status detail by Nash.

  “He’s great, but no, worrying still falls under the grooms’ jurisdiction.” Nash’s grass green eyes twinkled as he heaved an exaggerated sigh and placed the back of his hand against his forehead in a teasing display of faux-dramatics. “I guess I’ll just have to agonize enough for both of us.”

  “No…” Sam grinned and leaned over to kiss Nash’s furrowed brow, then his nose, then finally his lips before coming up for air to add, “Nobody needs to worry. Or you can let my mother do it for us if you think someone must.”

  “Your mother is a peach. I adore your mother. Can I adopt her?”

  “She’s already unofficially adopted you.”

  “I think she’d love anybody who makes you happy.”

  Sam groaned softly. Of course she would. Nash had made his life enjoyable again, and his whole family loved Nash for it. Nash had heard the stories. “I put them through hell. Dark times. I’m so glad I met you.”

  The oven timer went off and Sam got up to check on the roasting chicken pieces. “It’s ready,” he hollered from the kitchen after pulling the pan out of the oven. “Will you pour the wine, hon?”

  “Just a sec. Someone’s at the door. Damn, I hope Harley hasn’t come up with something new to stress me out.”