Above The Surface

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Above The Surface Page 30

by Akeroyd, Serena


  “I always think about you.”

  The confession was one another woman might not have made, but I wasn’t another woman, and Adam wasn’t an ordinary guy.

  He shuddered at my words, then bit off, “If you’re always thinking of me, then you shouldn’t put yourself in danger, should you? What the fuck would I do in this shitty world without you in it?”

  My throat felt tight again, but rather than reply, rather than say I understood, I reached down and covered the hand he’d pushed into my belly to prop me up.

  Blanketing it, I squeezed gently. I knew he understood when he just sighed and pressed a kiss to the place he’d bitten.

  The next ten minutes were a blur. Concierge took us up to our apartment, and we were guided down marble-lined halls toward our accommodation.

  I didn’t really listen to what the guy had to say, even though I knew Adam was taking mental notes about the best restaurants in the area and such. Me? I didn’t come here for that, I came here for the beach.

  The second we were inside, I rushed over to the window. Ignoring the sleek leather sofa, the glass and silver adornments, the modern kitchen, and swank amber-gold tiles beneath our feet, I dashed to the wall of glass and hurriedly opened the doors wide.

  The second I did, the roar of the tide flushed through me. We were on the first line, nothing between the ocean and us but a thin road, and the air was even stickier up here with salt. The endless coastal vista had delight whirling through me.

  I’d seen the pictures but hadn’t expected this.

  The sun beamed down, creating a little spotlight on the beach, and I sighed in delight as I saw a few intrepid joggers ignoring the threat of the storm in the air as they ran down the sandy shore.

  The water was gray, a little murky. Not a bright blue like I’d anticipated, but the roar from the waves was such that it didn’t come as a surprise. The sand on the seabed was agitated, turning the water a funny color, but it didn’t stop me from wanting to be in it.

  A wall of glass balustrades propped me up as I stared out onto a view that would be with me until the day I died.

  Something that was set in stone the second Adam moved behind me, his heat at my back, as he settled his chin on my shoulder.

  I wasn’t sure this could have been more perfect if I’d planned it.

  I’d thought I’d be here alone. I’d thought I’d come here to lick my wounds, even as I celebrated my record-breaking strike at the Olympics.

  I’d thought I’d come to distance myself from Adam, from what we meant to each other, from that night when Lori, damn her hide, had given him her keycard so he could come into my room and reclaim me as his.

  Instead, I was here with him.

  Weak...always weak.

  The words should have stung, but it surprised me when they didn’t.

  I was strong, incredibly so. I was a survivor. But I couldn’t always keep my defenses up, and certainly not with this man at my back.

  “You need to sleep,” he rumbled.

  “You’re not supposed to sleep until it’s night here. You know that’s how jet lag works.”

  His lips twitched as he pressed them to my jawline. “I had plans for us before we slept.”

  “You did, huh?”

  My body, though fatigued, not only from the flight but from the intensity of the games, sparked to life at that.

  “I definitely did.”

  I thought about that, and my body concurred—we were totally okay with his plan.

  “I want to shower first.”

  He nodded then stepped away from me, and I loved him even more for knowing I wouldn’t want to shower with him.

  I was head to toe mahrime at the moment. I didn’t stink, but I was sweaty and dirty, and I didn’t want him touching me like this.

  Old habits died hard, and even though I didn’t abide by any of my culture’s rules anymore, cleanliness wasn’t something I could compromise on. It was too ingrained in me.

  So I showered alone, even though I’d have liked to feel him inside me as I stood beneath the luxurious showerhead that felt like rain against my skin.

  Maybe another time.

  When I was clean.

  I hummed at the thought, then got busy. I soaped up, shaved everything in sight, then rinsed and repeated twice more. When I was pretty much squeaking, I dried off, moisturized, then curled the damp towel around me.

  I had no intention of having anything between me and Adam in bed, but the apartment had so many windows—so many. Like banks of windows on three of the four sides of the building. So, yeah, though we were high up, I didn’t want to provide someone with an inadvertent peep show.

  The bathroom was steamy when I left, and as I returned to the kitchen, checked the fridge, and saw there were some basic staples in there, I grabbed the carton of orange juice, and tried to pull open one of the cupboard doors that were all flat to the wall.

  For a second, I stared at them in confusion. There were no handles and no way to open them from underneath. Then, Adam appeared, and he pushed the door I was staring at, and it popped open, revealing a lot of glasses, mugs, plates, and all kinds of serving dishes.

  “Huh, nifty,” I muttered as I reached for a glass, which I washed twice and rinsed three times before I poured orange juice into it.

  Taking a deep sip, I offered him the rest while I took a second to appreciate the fact the apartment had two bathrooms, because it meant I was looking at a partially naked Adam.

  He was still slick from his shower too, his body had faint droplets curving over his muscles. I stared at his chest for a second, then my brows rose. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out, and I rubbed his left nipple.

  “That’s new.”

  “Got it last year,” he stated easily, before he took another sip of OJ.

  For a second, I watched his throat muscles moving, the strong sinews holding my attention until he stopped drinking. Then I reverted my focus to the nipple ring.

  His lips, unbeknownst to me, twitched. “Do you like it?”

  I wasn’t sure if I did or not.

  The silver looked strange against his dusky-brown nipple, but the way it was erect made my mouth water.

  I nipped at my bottom lip even as I rubbed the ring, which was warm against my fingers.

  “I-I think I do.”

  “You have plenty of time to get used to it,” he told me, his tone amused. Then, he twisted his shoulder. “This is new too.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I wondered how I’d missed this, how I’d failed to spot the tattoo that bridged his shoulders together in one complex design. Then, of course, I thought about when we were intimate together and how, usually, it was a quickie, or a rough fuck where I was pinned to the door or the wall.

  No time to explore.

  Fuck, I regretted that now. Clothes sucked.

  I pushed him around, making him laugh as I maneuvered him so I could see the full tattoo.

  It was large. Japanese in style. The large ripcurl wave had jagged, frothy tips at the height of the curve, and each flume of water was delineated. It was set in a sharp triangle, making the wave look like it was flowing from the triangular walls.

  I traced the shape, and sighed, “Perfect.”

  “Well, I try my best,” he teased. “Am I allowed to turn around now?”

  I squinted at him when he was facing me once more. “You’re being very accommodating at the moment.”

  “Sweetheart, accommodating you is what I was born to do,” he said dryly. “But, in this instance, I can see you’re exhausted. You have been since I found you outside that coffee shop.”

  I thought about whether he was right or not, then I sighed as even that was too hard.

  “If you could see how big your eyes are right now, baby,” he rumbled, reaching up and cupping my chin which I tilted to the side so I could feel his palm against my face, “you’d see why I’m bossy.”

  “You’re always bossy,” I grumbled.

&nbs
p; “True,” he conceded, “but not always. And not with you. If I was bossy with you, we’d have been living in sin for the past two years.”

  My nose crinkled. “Nothing about what we have is sinful.” Cursed, but never sinful.

  “I agree. But you knew what I meant.”

  I did.

  So I just grunted before I shrieked when he swept the legs out from under me and hauled me into his arms.

  “If I didn’t want to sleep with you so fucking badly, I’d leave you in the other bedroom to get some rest. As it stands, I’m going to be a gentleman and not touch you all night.”

  I snorted at that. “Yeah, right. I think we should have a wager on how long that lasts.”

  He grunted. “No wager. I know you’re right,” he mumbled, and he pressed a kiss to my smiling lips even as we walked into the bedroom.

  I sighed in delight when he pulled away. Not only because the bedroom was light and airy with floor-to-ceiling curtains that would, when fully closed, block out most of the intense brightness, and with a bed that looked like Adam and I could take part in rhythmic gymnastics on it, but because of the view.

  We had a one-eighty view of the ocean, and I knew, when I woke up, with only a twitch of my head, I’d be able to see it.

  “You should live near the ocean,” Adam murmured, when he moved me around to the right side of the bed to lay me down.

  “I intend to,” I told him absently, my gaze on the water.

  He sighed, even as he bowed over slightly to tug the covers out of the way, before he slipped me onto the bedsheet.

  The thick duvet was a bright coral color, the sheets were gray, and so were the layers of pillows behind me, but they were different shades of it.

  I blinked up at him, aware of the bright white towel against my skin in contrast to the gray.

  “You didn’t take my towel off,” I muttered, and I wasn’t even going for guile.

  Though a muscle flicked in his cheek, he instructed, “Lift your butt.”

  I did as bid, and he quickly tugged the loose knot between my breasts away and whipped off the towel.

  His eyes darkened as he took me in before he gritted his teeth and covered me with the sheet.

  My lips curved because, even though I felt bony and awkward and a little too muscular, Adam never failed to look at me as though I was a Sports Illustrated model.

  I kept my gaze glued to him, hoping to catch a similar show, but I didn’t. He dragged the curtains closed even though I protested, “I want to see the ocean!”

  “You can see it in the morning,” he retorted. “I want you to sleep.”

  I blew out a raspberry. “Being a dad has made you even bossier than before.”

  He snorted, then when we were in the semi-dark, I heard a rustle and knew he’d dropped his towel.

  “No fair,” I muttered. “I didn’t get to see anything.”

  “You’ll just have to feel it then, won’t you?” he countered, as I felt a gust of air when the sheets on the other side of the bed were lifted.

  It was a big bed. If I stayed on my side, I wouldn’t touch him.

  At all.

  Which was no fun.

  Seemed he agreed because, within seconds, we shuffled toward the center and into each other’s arms.

  I wasn’t one for sleeping with a crick in my neck just so I could stay close, but for the moment, I was happy for our bodies to brush, for our arms and legs to be tangled.

  I sighed at the warmth exuding from him and pressed a kiss to his pec.

  “We’ve done this so few times,” he rasped.

  And I closed my eyes, because he was right.

  “I think I can count on two hands how many times we’ve slept like this.”

  Probably not even that.

  Though I caved in from time to time, and we slept together in both the literal sense as well as the sexual, it wasn’t often.

  I was stubborn, and where Adam’s safety was concerned, even more obstinate than usual.

  You didn’t get where I was in the U.S. Swim Team without an inner core of steel, and I had that in spades.

  But that meant, also, that there were too few of these memories, and that was one of the reasons I was caving in now.

  I wanted this.

  I needed it.

  I was going to recharge my batteries, absorb all of Adam that I could, before I had to start over again.

  He muttered, “Stop thinking about when this is over.”

  My lips twitched. “I love that you know what I’m thinking.”

  “You’re easy to read,” he retorted. “I’m going nowhere, Thea. Neither are you.”

  There was a warning in that response, but I decided to ignore it. “We’re going to live in Broadbeach, are we?”

  “Smart ass,” he rumbled, and I wasn’t surprised when he tapped my ass.

  “Yes, it’s very intelligent,” I teased.

  “It’s fucking beautiful, is what it is,” he grumbled. “I want to bite it.”

  “I’m sure you will. In time.” My smile deepened at the prospect, and I twisted my face so I was breathing in air that scented of him.

  “I’m tired,” I whispered.

  “I know. Sleep.”

  “Too tired.”

  He snorted. “You’re a brat.”

  “Maybe.” I kissed his pec, this time letting my tongue dart out. “I want you in a bed for once. Not against the wall or against the desk or—”

  “Can I help it that you drive me to the end of my control so I have to fuck you where you stand?” His voice turned oddly grim. “Not anymore, Thea.”

  I probably should have heeded the caution, but I liked the sound of it. I liked how possessively his arms clasped me, and how he clung to me just as much as I clung to him.

  I’d pushed him to the end of his tether, and while a part of me was concerned by it, was wondering if this was where the curse would get us, I knew Adam would never hurt me.

  Not physically.

  Emotionally, sure. He’d done that already, several billion times. But I was safe.

  I didn’t stop to question if my mom had felt safe with my father, I just let my tongue whirl out to rub against his nipple.

  That it happened to be the one that was newly pierced had a jolt surging through my system. The electricity that little piercing caused had me wriggling against him as I tongued it, sucking down hard on the nub, enough for him to growl, “Jesus, Thea. It’s attached to me, you know?”

  I grinned, then reached down to cup his cock which, of course, was hard for me.

  I sighed as I started to jack him off, taking a leisurely pace because I was sleepy and tired, but too tired to rest if that made sense.

  I needed Adam to rock my world, like he’d promised, then I’d rest.

  When I felt the slick from his pre-cum gather on my palm, I had no choice but to kiss my way down his belly and taste him.

  I let my tongue drift down his shaft, then around the frilly edge of the glans, before smoothing downward, never touching the tip, never tasting him fully.

  His hand moved to my hair, and I felt the bite even as I gloried in it. The sheets were shoved off me, removing the cocoon-like feel of the moment, and the air conditioning brushed over my skin, making me shiver a little from the change in temperature.

  The sheets rustled beneath me as I moved onto my knees, and when he guided me to where he wanted me, I let his tip fall against my tongue before I swallowed him into my mouth.

  He tasted like mine.

  No word of a lie.

  Salty and bitter, yet sweet and savory. Weird, I knew, to describe him like he was some kind of treat, but hell, his taste was better than anything umami any day of the week.

  I sucked down hard on him, not stopping until his hips were surging upward with each thrust and his breath was breaking, his inhalations shaking and wobbling like I was dragging him to the edge.

  When he bit off, “Stop, Thea!” I did, but in my own way.

&nbs
p; I knew he was close to coming, so I grabbed his balls in my palm, and quickly but carefully twisted them to stave off his orgasm.

  He grunted at the feeling, and I scrambled upward, still holding him that way as I moved to straddle him.

  I wished I could hold him that way as I rode him, but I didn’t have retractable arms, so I switched my hold on him, grabbed his pulsating dick, and guided myself down onto his length.

  I was wet. Probably not wet enough, but I didn’t care. The feel of him, the intense heat and the thickness of his dick filling me was like a drug.

  My head toppled back on my neck, my hair draping over my shoulders and brushing my lower back as I let my body adjust to the feel of him.

  I gloried in the moment, even as I felt his hands come to my hips and forcibly move me. His legs shifted beneath him, and I wasn’t surprised when he took over, thrusting from beneath.

  I didn’t help, but I reached between us and began to touch my clit. Sparks of pleasure immediately shot through me, and my groan intertwined with his as I tightened down on him, clamping him with my inner muscles.

  When he came, I was seconds away. A scream escaped me even as a flurry of curse words escaped him as he sped up to prolong the pleasure.

  I felt like I’d been struck by a lightning bolt, my nerve endings were fried, even as they seemed to fall apart into the vat of warmth that surged through my veins.

  I stayed taut above him for a few seconds before I fell atop him, covering him in me. He didn’t move me aside, just held me closer, his arms coming around me to hold me against him.

  He was still hard, even though he was softening too, and I didn’t complain when he started to move because I knew he’d make it so that we remained connected.

  When he was on his side and I was a little too, my leg hitched higher on his hip so that his cock could remain embedded within me for as long as possible, he pressed a kiss to my temple and muttered, “Sleep.”

  Maybe I was a little more exhausted than I realized, because, stupidly, I muttered, “Dream of me.”

  He laughed a little. Not meanly. “I always do, but tonight, I don’t have to, Thea. I’m in your arms, and you’re in mine. No dream is better than reality.”

  The words had my eyes burning, and I burrowed my face into his throat, loving our position, and finally knew I’d be able to rest.

 

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