by Lea Coll
My parents had avoided any serious discussions with me about what the hell I was doing. In fact, they seemed eerily okay with me living with them. Maybe they were just happy to have me home and didn’t care that I’d been fired. I, on the other hand, was still feeling awful about the whole thing. Being fired was a blow to my ego and I spent all of my spare time searching job listings and sending out resumes. I was applying for things further and further from what I wanted to do. In the back of my mind, I knew I’d need to figure out what I could do for work in Chestertown in case I couldn’t find a job in the city.
I’d managed to come up with several ideas for the parties: spa location for the girls (surely Wyatt wouldn’t have anything to say about that), the weekends the Orioles were home for a Saturday afternoon game, restaurant possibilities for dinner, and bar/club options for the evening.
Still running through ideas in my head, I sat in the rocker on Wyatt’s porch the next morning, my head resting against the back of the chair, my eyes closed. When the screen door creaked open a few minutes later, the coffee aroma drifted out. “That smells so good.” I didn’t even open my eyes, just savored the strong smell of coffee and a freshly showered Wyatt.
“I’m surprised you’re here.”
I opened one eye. “You didn’t think I could get up at five A.M., did you?” Remembering how he criticized my outfits, I continued, “You think I’m a spoiled brat, don’t you?”
“I figured you’d want to sleep in.”
“I do, but I set the alarm on my phone and here I am.” I opened my eyes, gesturing out over the water, where the sun was just about to rise. I’d worn a long sleeve shirt and leggings over my red string bikini in case it warmed enough later to go swimming.
“Here,” he said gruffly, handing me a steaming tumbler of coffee. “I put in a little creamer for you.”
“You remembered how I take my coffee?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat before settling into the other rocker with his coffee. “We were together a long time, either as friends or—” he waved off the rest of the sentence.
He was the longest relationship I’d ever had. It was comfortable—like putting on the oldest, softest worn pair of jeans you’d had forever and couldn’t part with. Sitting next to Wyatt, sipping hot coffee in the cool morning air, watching the sunrise over the water was like coming home. I jolted, not from the coffee—but from the idea I only felt like I was at home with Wyatt—not at my parents’.
Is this what we’d be doing if we’d stayed together? If I’d gone to college but maintained a long-distance relationship with him? Would I be living in this cabin, sitting on this porch, sipping coffee, and watching the sunrise? It was strangely appealing.
No, that was ridiculous. What job could I realistically work here? Sure, Wyatt’s DNR job was perfect on the eastern shore. There was plenty of wildlife and animals, but I wanted to work in graphic design, and I doubted there were comparable jobs here.
The sun was fairly high in the sky, the orange and red colors spread out and reflected on the water. “I think this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s why I asked you over at five A.M. Everyone should see this once in their life.”
And with the word “once” I knew my vision of us here on this porch again would never happen. Our time had come and gone. I’d screwed up any chance of us. I wasn’t even sure I ever wanted us to be more. Or if I had, maybe I’d buried it deep so I could leave and fulfill my dreams.
“You ready to go fishing?” Wyatt finally asked when the sun was up and the streaks of orange and red had faded to yellow.
My brain was clearly not firing on all cylinders even with the coffee. “There’s caffeine in this right?” I asked, holding the tumbler out to him.
“Of course.” He stood up. “You want me to top yours off before we leave?”
“Yes, please.” I sighed as he went into his house. It hadn’t escaped my notice he hadn’t invited me inside. He’d allowed me on his porch to see the amazing sunrise but that was it. I wasn’t invited inside his inner sanctum. I was okay with that though because I’d made my decision when I was eighteen. As beautiful as this place was—as beautiful as the sunrise was over the water—I was meant for something else—someone else. Or maybe I was meant to be alone.
Here, everyone was pairing off and getting married, but at my job, everyone was living the single life—happy hour, partying at bars and clubs late into the night, and working even harder. It was amazing how life stages varied so much between the city and the shore. I wasn’t ready to settle down with a husband and kids. I still wanted freedom—whether that was from the demands my parents placed on me in high school or something else, I wasn’t sure.
I stood as Wyatt stepped through his screen door and handed me the tumbler before closing and locking the door behind him.
I followed him down the dock to a fishing boat. “This is nicer than the canoe you had in high school.”
Wyatt placed his fishing gear inside the boat first and then held his hand out to me so I could board. “I’ve got a good job and no one to spend it on. My house is simple and exactly what I need but I wanted more for my boat. It’s my escape from everything.”
What did he have to escape from? His expression was open and vulnerable, and I wanted to know more.
“Do you remember being on a boat?” he asked.
When we were dating we went out on the boat a few times just to be alone—heat rushed to my face at the memory. “I remember,” I said quietly taking his hand as a tingle shot up my arm. I carefully stepped onto the boat so it wouldn’t rock. I sat on the bench facing the back of the boat and watched him get everything ready, start the motor, and untie the lines from the dock.
He drove the boat, and the purr of the engine was the only sound over the water. He dropped anchor at a secluded cove off of the river surrounded on three sides by land.
“Is this our spot?” The same one he’d take me to all those years ago to get away from the fighting at my house. It was so peaceful on the water—quiet and serene.
“Yes, this is where I come when I want peace and quiet.”
“Just like we used to.” We shared a look, an understanding. He’d wanted me to remember, and there was no better memory than spending time with Wyatt.
He got the fishing rods ready with bait and handed me one before getting out sanitizer to clean his hands. “Remember how to cast?”
“I think so.” We’d fished here many times. My neck tingled in excitement to be here in our spot. Would it feel the same now that we weren’t together? I threw out my line reeling it in slightly until it was in the location I wanted, and he did the same. There were holders on the side of the boat for the rods, which Wyatt used and I followed suit. Then he pulled some blankets from under his seat and laid them on the bench.
Wyatt moved to sit on the blankets. “I brought breakfast.” He motioned for me to join him as he opened a familiar bakery box of muffins, the smell of apples drifting out. There was also a container of fresh fruit.
“You picked up muffins from Sweet Treats?” I asked, taking one in my hand.
“I picked them up last night on the way home from work.”
It felt good he’d asked me here, and that he planned ahead and brought muffins. It was sweet, and like the Wyatt I remembered. I smiled at him, catching his eye, as I popped a strawberry into my mouth, moaning around it. “Oh my, these are so good.”
“I got the strawberries from the produce market yesterday.” His voice was strained.
“I’d forgotten how good fresh strawberries are.” Conscious of his eyes on me, I popped another one into my mouth and chewed, juice dribbling down my chin. “Whoops.” I looked around for a napkin, but Wyatt brushed it off with his thumb.
My mind immediately flashed back to the last time we were on a boat, and my nipples puckered, and I shifted my legs. We’d gone out at dusk to get away from our families and we’d cuddled on the floor in t
he blankets until his hands had started to roam over my body.
“Do you remember?” Wyatt asked.
My eyes shot to Wyatt’s whose eyes burned hot. I swallowed. “Of course I do.”
He moved closer and my breath hitched as I wondered what he was going to do. Not taking his eyes from mine, he sucked the strawberry juice from his thumb into his mouth. “I know I should stay away from you. That you aren’t here to stay, but I can’t—” His voice was low and husky in the quiet morning.
At that moment, I couldn’t remember why we shouldn’t touch, kiss, get closer. I wanted to feel his lips on mine. We moved at the same time. I went up on my knees as he turned toward me. I tentatively touched his chest—worried he’d grab my wrist and tell me to stop at any moment. I held my breath as I explored the hard muscles under his T-shirt, feeling the warmth of his body, and his rapidly beating heart. He tilted my chin up, and his lips crashed down on mine.
This was different than when we were kids. This wasn’t tentative or exploring. I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted him.
He lifted me to straddle his lap and I groaned when my center came into contact with his hard cock. My hands went to his shoulders to brace myself as he continued his onslaught on my mouth—like he was reacquainting himself with me—exploring and searching. This was Wyatt—my first boyfriend, my first love.
We knew each other, our bodies. We didn’t have any secrets when it came to this. I was suddenly desperate for more. It was like his touch, his mouth, had woken me from a long sleep. I felt alive.
I rocked my core against his cock, picking up a rhythm that felt right for me.
“Fuck,” he growled, breaking his mouth off of mine. Then he picked me up off of him, pushing me to stand and rocking the boat slightly. I pulled my white long-sleeve T-shirt over my head and flicked my leather flip flops off. He tugged my leggings down and off until I stood in my string bikini. The chill was gone from the air and the sun warmed me as he kneeled in front of me, his hands on the back of my legs, his eyes reverent. “Christ, you’re even more gorgeous.”
I stood above him looking down into his eyes as his fingers slid under the string on either side of my hips. Were we making a mistake? “What are we doing, Wyatt?”
“I don’t know, but it feels fucking fantastic.”
Could we do this? Could we fuck this attraction out of our systems?
Then my bottoms were off and he’d lain down as flat on the boat as he could get. I dropped to my knees, making sure the sides of the boat covered my nakedness in case any other boaters were around, but there was none. It was silent except for the soft rocking of the boat, the slap of the waves, and our harsh breathing.
“I want to—” he said, his eyes pleading.
And I knew what he wanted without him having to say. My heartbeat kicked up in anticipation, my nipples hard under my bikini top, my core burning for his mouth on me. “Please,” was all I could say before he picked me up and placed me on his face. My hands braced on the bench in front of us, and my thighs tightened in anticipation as I lowered myself over his waiting mouth.
With me straddling him, his hands on my hips to hold me close, I couldn’t get away from the sensations—the wind on my overheated body, his wet hot mouth circling my clit, his tongue pressing into me. Something about my inability to move and what he was doing with his mouth, had me mumbling his name and the word please, over and over again until the orgasm crashed through me so hard I screamed out and slumped down farther onto him. When I realized what happened I pulled myself off to kneel next to him. “Sorry.”
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, smiling like he knew how he affected me, and that no one else had ever done to me what he could. “Wyatt?” I rubbed my legs together, restless for more. I needed him inside me now. “Please tell me you have a condom.”
“I don’t actually. I didn’t plan for this.” He smiled but looked as frustrated as me.
“I’m on birth control and clean. Are you?”
“I am.”
“I trust you, Wyatt.” I trusted the Wyatt I knew in high school and nothing I’d seen since I had been back caused me to question that. He was friends with my brother. I unbuckled his belt, pulled down his zipper. Then his hands were over mine, shucking his pants off while the boat rocked. “Wyatt! If you tip this boat, so help me—”
“You’ll what?” Then he flipped me easily, and his delicious weight was on top of me, his legs urging mine apart, as he settled between my legs, his cock already at my entrance. “Don’t worry, this boat is too big to tip.”
“Kiss me,” I demanded. If this was the last time I’d ever be with Wyatt I wanted to savor every sensation and smell. I wanted him hard and fast. I just wanted him. “Fuck me, Wyatt now.” I didn’t want to make love. I wanted none of the sweet emotion I’d felt when we’d finally lost our virginity when I turned eighteen.
Then he pushed inside me to the hilt. “Oh my God,” we both said.
“You feel so good,” his voice rumbled over us and the quiet water.
I heard our unspoken thoughts. It was like coming home.
He was thrusting just as hard as I wanted.
“I think I need to slow down. I don’t want this to be over yet,” he said regretfully.
I could feel the muscles in his back tighten, as he restrained himself which only heightened every sensation. His long slow thrusts drew out my pending orgasm until I was panting with the anticipation of another orgasm. “Please.” I’d never been this vocal with anyone. It felt desperate.
Then he sat back on his heels, his arms behind my back, pulling me with him so that I straddled his lap. “Wyatt!” I exclaimed quietly looking around for other boaters.
“Relax, it’s just us out here and you’re still wearing your bikini top so no one can tell.”
As I raised myself up and back down, I moaned at the sensation. “Oh, they can tell,” I whispered. There was no way anyone could mistake what we were doing, clothed or not.
“You’d better hurry then.” He bit my ear as he took over the pace, fingers gripping my hips as he thrust into me from beneath. The combination of his teeth on my ear, the new position, and the fear of being seen sent me over the edge. I muffled my cry in his shoulder as he continued to ride through my release, thrusting a few more times, harder, deeper, before he followed me over.
I slid off of him and laid back on the bottom of the boat looking up at him. He dug through his equipment and pulled out paper towels. I bit my lip. Somehow he’d broken through the numbness I felt about everything, but especially about him. I felt unsure about him, us, what just happened.
Wyatt
I shrugged my jeans back on and buckled my belt, avoiding Lucy’s eyes. She was naked except for her red bikini top, flushed, soft, and vulnerable—more like the younger version of herself. We’d acted impulsively and I didn’t know what was going on in her head. Did Lucy want a quick fuck for old times’ sake or was this something more? What we’d just done was so different from the summer before she’d left—it was hot. It brought every feeling I’d ever had for Lucy—supporter, protector, friend, and lover—to the forefront. I was wrong to think that anything I’d felt for her had diminished over time. All it took was being inside her one time and everything came rushing back. The idea of her walking away was as painful as it was the day it happened.
We could never be more. I’d never survive Lucy walking away a second time. I thought I could show her the things we used to do together and she’d what—want to stay? I was so naïve. I couldn’t change her. I couldn’t convince her to appreciate what our town had to offer. Looking out over the softly lapping water was bittersweet.
Lucy searched around on her hands and knees for the red scrap of bikini she’d worn and quickly pulled it on. I could see her regrouping. Her eyes hardened, her movements became jerky and quick. I couldn’t blame her. I wanted to protect myself too.
“You’re leaving soon.” I pulled up the fishing lines and stowed the equ
ipment.
“I know.” Her softly spoken admission sealed her fate.
I was suddenly exhausted mentally and physically. “You’re not dating anyone are you?”
Lucy gave me an exasperated look. “No, I wouldn’t do that to you or anyone else.”
“That’s good.” I didn’t think she would, but we hadn’t seen each other for seven years. “But this can’t happen again. I can’t do this with you.” I couldn’t move on from her if we were intimate. I couldn’t. I thought I could explore our physical attraction with the comfort of our old connection but I was wrong. If I continued this, she’d settle deeper and deeper under my skin until I lost myself. I steered out of the little cove which had been our cocoon.
Lucy looked out over the water. “You keep saying that but—”
“I’m sorry. I thought I could be with you and still walk away from you when you move but I can’t. I feel too much for you. I always will.” Maybe she was different, but she said herself she was leaving, and my job, my home, and my family was here. Nothing about our circumstances had changed since high school.
Lucy flinched at the honesty in my words. “You’re right. I don’t want to hurt you. I could have handled things better when we were younger, but in the end, the result would have been the same. I had been determined to leave.”
It was suddenly important that she know where I was coming from. “When I invited you here I didn’t intend for this to happen. I wanted to take you to our spot—give you some peace and quiet. I know losing your job and home had to be hard. I wanted to be there for you in the only way I can.”
Her entire face relaxed and her eyes shone with tears before she turned her head. “Thank you.”
Sharing the sunrise with her, bringing her to our spot, and sharing what we had felt right.
“What about the parties? We didn’t plan anything.”
“Send me what you’ve got.” My head was so messed up, I couldn’t talk to her about planning parties right now.
Lucy’s expression was curious as her eyes flicked from me to the water. “Have you dated a lot?”
