The One Real Thing

by Samantha Young

  “Sure, thanks.” He took it, while I grabbed another one for Nate. “I’m Greg.”

  I looked back up at him. He was taller than Nate, probably about the same height as Braden and Logan. “Liv.”

  “Friend of the bride or groom?”

  “The groom. My husband used to work with Mark.” I lied easily.

  Something akin to disappointment crossed young Greg’s face. “Oh. So that was your husband you were dancing with?”

  He’d been watching me?

  “Yup.”

  “Shame that.” This time I realized his grin was flirtatious. “It would have been nice to get to know you.”

  I had to admit I was a little thrilled by the admiration. He was a lot younger than me, and cute. But still, my husband just happened to be hotter, sexier, and the most wonderful father in the whole wide world. “That’s sweet. But I’m happily married. And a little old for you, I think.”

  “Not at all.” He dismissed my last comment. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  “Well try.” Nate suddenly appeared at my side, glaring up at my young flirter. He fairly bristled with possessiveness. Was it wrong of me to be thrilled by that, too?

  Greg stepped back, giving Nate a congenial nod. “No offense meant. You have a beautiful wife.”

  I saw the muscle in Nate’s jaw twitch but he controlled his annoyance and just nodded. “I know that. Not too thrilled about strange men flirting with her though, so if you’re done . . .” In other words, fuck off.

  “Nate,” I warned him under my breath.

  But thankfully, my would-be surfer boy charmer didn’t take Nate’s rudeness to heart. He seemed amused by it, lifting his champagne glass to us before turning on his heel and sauntering off, presumably to find someone else to flirt with.

  “Time to go.” Nate took the glass of champagne out of my hand and tossed it back in one gulp.

  I did the same, just in time, before I found myself being dragged out of the ballroom. “I can’t bloody leave you alone for a minute,” he huffed, as he pushed open one set of the double doors.

  “He meant no harm.”

  “Aye.” He grumbled.

  “I didn’t even consider him for a second,” I added. “You know I only see you. I only ever want you.”

  Nate stopped in the foyer of the hotel and looked back at me. His whole face softened. “You really mean that.”

  I nodded, hoping he felt my sincerity. It was true. While I could recognize that other men were attractive, they didn’t elicit a sexual response in me. No one but my husband did it for me.

  “Inn. Now. Sex.”

  My lips trembled with laughter at his sudden caveman dialogue, but instead of agreeing, I shook my head. “Sorry, baby, you still have a bet to fulfill.”

  * * *

  * * *

  “You’re really going to make me do this?” Nate asked as we rounded the corner on the beach to a more secluded spot, as far away from the boardwalk as we could get. The moon bathed the sand and the water with its luminosity, providing us with an ethereal light as the ocean breeze caused my dressed to twist around my legs. I shivered, knowing it was going to be freezing out there.

  But so far this vacation had been an adventure I wouldn’t forget, and I didn’t want to stop throwing caution to the wind. In this case, almost literally.

  My answer to Nate’s question was to grab the skirts of my dress and pull them up, lifting the whole thing over my head and laying it out on the sand like a blanket. I grinned at my husband’s look of surprise, shivering in nothing but my bra, knickers, and sandals. “I’m making you do it. But not on your own.” I reached down to undo the straps on my sandals.

  “You are fucking crazy,” he chuckled, quickly unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Hurry!” I jumped from one foot to the other to keep warm. It wasn’t cold up by the boardwalk, but that breeze coming right in off the ocean, the one that had been soothing during the hot day, was now chilly in the dark of the night.

  “Bra and knickers off,” Nate said, removing his boxer briefs.

  “Only fair.” I divested myself of them and felt my nipples harden immediately.

  My husband groaned, focused completely on my breasts. “Can we just skip the water part and go straight to the sex part?”

  “You’re not going to welch on a bet, are you?”

  He made a face but grabbed my hand. “You ready for this?”

  I nodded, even though my stomach was fluttering. It was going to be painfully cold. Plus, despite feeling secluded, this was a public beach. If we got caught, it was a crime. The thought sent a little thrill down my spine. “Let’s do it.”

  Sucking in our breaths, we ran into the ocean together, both of us inhaling sharp gasps as the ice-cold water surrounded us.

  “Fuck!” Nate bit out as we broke hands to jump around like we’d just stepped onto hot coals. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s fucking baltic!”

  I didn’t even say anything.

  I couldn’t.

  The words had frozen inside of me.

  Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Worst idea ever!

  I turned right back around and got the hell out of there.

  The relief of being out of the water was immense, but my whole body was shaking even though it had had a mere few seconds in the sea. I’d almost reached my dress when strong arms wrapped around me and I found myself flying through the air, landing on the hard muscular body of my husband.

  He immediately flipped us, so I was on my back on top of my dress. “There’s only one way to warm up, babe.”

  I raised my arms above my head, my fingers sliding through cold sand, my breasts arching up in invitation. “I’m all yours, baby.”

  Nate sat back to enjoy the view. His hooded eyes drifted down my body and I lowered my gaze to see that his dick, which seconds before been subdued by freezing cold water, was beginning to swell and strain toward his hard stomach.

  “What did I do to deserve you, Liv? Who else would jump into a baltic ocean with me and then lie like a live Botticelli on a public beach, not caring about anything but having my cock inside you?”

  “No one else would. Now stop ogling and service me.” I giggled, shifting my hips, trying to get him to do something. We were, after all, on a public beach!

  But I knew instantly that Nate wasn’t in the mood to make this quick, despite our risqué location. Heat flashed through me immediately, knowing the signs, his intent. Nate wanted to draw this out, savor it.

  He placed his hands on my knees, his thumbs on the inside of my legs, and he slowly coasted them upward.

  My breath left me.

  And then he reached the apex of my thighs but he kept going, his thumbs meeting in the middle over my clit. I gasped as he pressed his thumbs down and rubbed, and my hips arched, sliding off the dress and the grainy sand at my back.

  Nate’s eyes flew to mine, then desire and satisfaction moved through his expression as he watched my arousal increase with the circular motion of his thumbs. His lips parted, his chest rising and falling faster, as we stared at each other like two people who were starving.

  The whole world seemed to fall away. I was barely cognizant of the sand beneath me or the rush of the sea waves at Nate’s back, or the smell of salt in the air. All I could see was my husband, all I could feel were his thumbs, his body above mine, and all I could smell was the aftershave I bought him every Christmas.

  I wet my dry lips with my tongue as my eyes dipped to his dick, swollen, purple-red and jutting out between his muscular thighs. Would I ever get tired of looking at my beautiful husband? No. I really didn’t think I would.

  My sex swelled and a little huff of excitement escaped me.

  Hearing it, Nate’s cock jerked and he blew my mind by speaking what had just been on mine. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire
of looking at you, Liv. Not ever.” He stared into my now-watery eyes as he smoothed his hand up my naked thigh.

  “Yes,” I whispered, not even knowing what I was saying yes to. It was more of a plea, really.

  “Look at all those goose bumps,” he whispered, eyeing my breasts and hard nipples. “So gorgeous. You’re driving me mad. I just want to touch you all the time.” His fingers slipped down my body and inside me. My inner muscles clamped around him in desperate need. Nate groaned. “I’m so glad you feel the same way.”

  I huffed, feeling breathless. “Are you deliberately torturing me?”

  He gave me a cocky smile and those sexy dimples. “You were the one who said anticipation makes for a better orgasm.”

  “Right now I just want to orgasm, period. Please, baby.”

  His mood seemed to change at my plea, and I waited breathlessly as he straddled me, gently taking each of my wrists in his hands and pinning them down in the sand at either side of my head. I felt overwhelmed by him in the best possible way.

  “Good things come to those who wait, my darling,” he murmured, and then he kissed me deeply. His tongue pushed between my lips and slid over mine, dancing with it in a dirty, wet kiss. My hips pulsed toward him at the feel of his hard dick rubbing against my belly.

  And then he was gone, taking his mouth from mine as his grip on my wrists loosened. His fingers trailed teasingly down the soft skin of my inner arm, under my arms, and down the sides of my breasts as he stopped to pay attention to them.

  “Sometimes I sit at the dinner table, trying to concentrate on the girls telling me about their day, when all I can think about are your fantastic bloody tits and these long fucking legs wrapped around me. Does that make me a terrible father?”

  I turned to mush, right there in the sand. “No. And for future reference, once the girls are in bed, you are permitted to have your way with my fantastic bloody tits and long fucking legs.”

  He grinned but his eyes grew hooded with lust. “Suck these pretty nipples, you mean?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, desire flooding my stomach. I arched my hips into his tantalizing touch.

  “Lick them?”

  “Uh huh.”

  A dark heat entered his expression. “Come on them.”

  A pulse of lust slammed through me. “Nate, please.”

  He positioned his dick between my legs and pressed against me, ferocious desire written all over him. “The next time the girls are away on a sleepover, the first thing I’m doing is fucking those tits, Liv.”

  Soaked, lost entirely in my desire for him, I tried to push against his hold on my wrists, wanting to touch him. “Like I’ll ever say no to you.”

  Tenderness swept through his aroused expression. “I’m a lucky son of a bitch, aren’t I, baby?”

  “We’re both lucky. I’ll feel even luckier if you actually thrust your beautiful dick inside of me instead of teasing me.” I gasped, impatient.

  I felt the rumble of his laughter and then I felt nothing but the heat of his mouth as he wrapped it around my left nipple and sucked.

  Hard.

  My body writhed, bucking into him, and I struggled against his hold again. “Let me touch you,” I pleaded.

  Nate immediately let me go so I could reach for him, and as he turned his attention to my other breast, I moved my hands to his shoulders, stroking his smooth, damp skin, droplets of water tickling my fingertips. And then I curled my fingers tightly into his soft, dark hair as he tormented my nipples until they were swollen, painful buds.

  There was a possibility I was going to come with just his mouth on me, and that would be a first.

  “Baby,” I begged, tugging hard on his hair.

  Nate didn’t stop the torment, however. His lips traveled down my stomach, his tongue licking my belly button before moving south. My lower belly rippled in a mini orgasm as the dark sky and sparkling stars were suddenly all I could see, and I was jolted back into the reality that my husband was about to go down on me on a beach where anyone might stumble upon us.

  Another ripple of excitement moved through me and I automatically opened my legs and heard his grunt of satisfaction seconds before his tongue touched my clit.

  Need slammed through me and my hips pushed into his mouth. He gripped them, pressing them back into the dress over the sand, and then my husband proved that he was a master with his mouth.

  He suckled my clit, pulling on it hard, knowing me, knowing my body and what got me off. He listened to my harsh, shallow breaths, knew what the change in rhythm in my undulating hips meant, and stopped.

  I cried out in frustration. “Nate!”

  His grip on my hips became almost bruising.

  And then his tongue was back, this time licking inside me. I writhed, wanting all of him, every inch, everything!

  Hearing my whimpers, he returned to my clit and gently pushed two fingers inside of me.

  “Mother of God.” I jerked against him.

  “Good?” he asked, stopping all movement.

  I looked down at him in frustrated horror. “Are you nuts? If you stop again, Nate Sawyer, I will divorce you!”

  I felt the huff of his laughter on my hip.

  I wasn’t amused. “Seriously? You have two seconds to fuck me.”

  His laughter slowly dissipated as he sat up, straddling me. He held my gaze as he took his dick in hand and began to stroke himself, his pleasure-filled eyes narrowed on me.

  I had a sudden image of him coming all over my breasts. “Nate.”

  Whatever he heard in my voice made him stroke himself harder, the muscle in his jaw ticking, his hips pumping into his hand. “Beg me, Liv.”

  I didn’t need to be asked twice. “Fuck me, baby,” I whispered. “Please.”

  He let go of his dick, braced himself over me, one hand beside my head in the sand, and he curled his other around my thigh, opening me, and thrust inside me.

  Hard.

  I gasped out his name in pleasure. Our eyes held as my breath scattered, and he moved inside me in thick, rough, fierce strokes. The love in both our eyes only heightened our arousal, and it didn’t take long for the tension inside of me to reach the breaking point, to shatter explosively, overwhelmingly.

  “Nate!” I cried, my eyes rolling back in my head as my inner muscles clamped around my husband’s dick. I was barely aware of my fingernails digging into the muscles of his back, as the pleasure pulsed through what felt like every piece of me. It felt like it was never going to end, the ripples of my climax pulsing and pulsing around him. Nate’s hips slammed hard against mine and he tensed, seconds before he throbbed and flooded inside of me.

  “Liv, Jesus, God!” He came almost as hard as me and then buried his face in my neck, trying to catch his breath.

  We both were.

  I kept my arms wrapped tight around him, my fingernails having lost their hold on him thankfully. As always I luxuriated in the feel of his heavy body over mine, never failing to appreciate the fact that this beautiful, kind, funny man was my husband. It had been so painful to feel disconnected from him that the euphoria of feeling closer to him than ever was almost too beautiful to bear.

  I pulsed around him at the thought, a little aftershock, and he lifted his head to give me a lazy, satisfied, loving smile. In answer to that smile I kissed him, a soft yet still-hungry kiss, pouring all my love into it. He kissed me in return, and I rolled, forcing him onto his back in the sand. His hands caressed my shoulders, my hair, my ass, as we kissed and I writhed against him, needing more, wanting him hard again, ready.

  “I’m not in my twenties anymore,” he said, his voice rumbling with desire and amusement.

  I didn’t listen to him. Instead I explored—touching, tasting, smoothing the coarse grains of sand off his skin. When I bent my head to his dick, he inhaled in surprise.

 
Right there, with the sea breeze blowing my hair around my shoulders and caressing my naked skin, I sat on a dark, moonlit beach and sucked my husband like he was a lollipop, getting him hard and ready for round two. He moaned in displeasure as I released him from the wet heat of my mouth. “Tit for tat,” I whispered. This time I tormented and explored him, the hard planes of his muscles, the heat and sea salt on his skin.

  And then I straddled him, taking every inch of his beauty inside of me. I rode him. I rode him slowly, feeling his fingers bite into my hips, begging me for more. Frustrated by my decision not to give him more, he sat up abruptly, his strong ab muscles tensing, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing one of my nipples into his mouth.

  As he laved and sucked and licked me, my rhythm increased just like he knew it would, until I was gasping and panting, driving down on him hard and fast. Nate climaxed first, and watching the euphoria slacken his features sent me over the edge.

  Exhausted, stunningly exhausted, I melted into his embrace. “I love you so much,” I whispered.

  His arms tightened around me. “I love you more.”

  After a moment of silence, he squeezed me and I lifted my head in question. “Look where we are,” he smiled.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the inky black water rushing closer to shore than it had before we got here. “I almost forgot.” Looking around us, I was glad to see we were still all alone out here. “Do you think anyone saw?”

  Nate ran his fingers through my hair, pushing the thick locks off my face. “I couldn’t give a shit.”

  “Me neither.” I kissed him softly. “We should probably get back to the inn, though. Wash all this sand off.”

  He nodded and I carefully lifted off him, smiling smugly at his groan as I did so. Once on our feet, I felt a little wobbly, disoriented. It wasn’t every day you had a sex-fest on the beach. Dressing quickly, I grabbed my sandals and watched my husband dress.

  “You’re unfairly beautiful,” I said, as he shrugged on his shirt.

  He smiled, pleased. “Pot, meet Kettle.”

  I was happy he thought so. Once he was ready, I held out my hand and he ignored it, preferring to slide his arm around my waist and hug me into his side as we walked. We were quiet as we made our way back around the curve of the beach and within sight of the boardwalk.