by Cate Ellink
Every so often a wave brushes against me, teasing gently and I’m almost waiting to feel them. To have the wetness slide against my butt crack. The coolness of the breeze and the air above the water washes over my heated core. The damp of the sand softens beneath my hips. I seep further into a state like euphoria, as if I am doing a race. Nothing will drag me out of the zone.
Until a deep guttural sound comes from Cooper.
‘No,’ I say. ‘No coming yet.’
‘Then run.’ The intensity of those two words has me roll over and scramble to my feet. I take two steps and feel the blood pounding but my head’s light. I shake my head to get the blood flowing upwards and run. The air pushes against me, cooling, tantalising, skimming. My feet beat against the wet sand, splashing as the larger waves hit the beach. There’s such freedom in running naked.
I hear Cooper behind me. Loud splashes as he races to catch me. But I’m light as a bird and flying down the beach. I step up the pace so I’m running as hard as I can.
But why am I running from him? Why make such an effort when I ultimately want him to catch me? Only my deeply competitive spirit keeps me racing. I do want him to catch me, but damn it, he can work hard first and earn me.
When I’m out of beach, I slow. I thought of running onto the dry sand but dry sand and sex doesn’t do it for me. So I stay where the sand’s wet, slowing so he can catch me and wrap me against his hard pounding muscles.
And that’s just what he does. He opens his arms and swoops down on me, wrapping me against his chest, my legs between his, and his lips claim mine. The kiss holds nothing back. Both of us are panting hard, so the kiss is deep but broken into pieces to allow breathing.
A bits-and-pieces kiss shouldn’t have the ability to sear your soul but this one burns mine. As our tongues duel and our lips meld, my innards churn — tensing, releasing, tumbling. I’m a mess of emotional madness. It’s exhilarating and terrifying.
Our bodies rub against each other. Hands touching, grabbing, holding, sliding. I can’t get enough of him and it seems it’s mutual.
I open my legs so his cock can probe, seeking my core. But that’s not enough. I lift a leg to wrap around his hip and draw him closer but instead he eases me onto the wet sand and follows me.
Cooper straddles me, holding himself up on his hands and knees, and the kiss deepens. No more breaks, gasps or pauses. This is a full-blown moment of kissing. The deep pashing of two bodies in sync.
My hands roam his chest, arms, shoulders and neck. I can’t keep still. Sensation floods me. His silken skin. Rough stubble. Solid muscle. Fine dusting of chest hair. Cording of veins. Swell of pecs. Tight beads of nipples. The decadent taste of his tongue. The pressure of his lips. The moist heat of his mouth. I writhe, lifting my hips to nudge at his cock. I rub and push my hips to his. I need him joined to me, filling me.
He pulls away as I’m wrapping my legs around his hips to attempt to pull him into me.
‘We can’t, Sam.’
I grip his shoulders and try to pull him back into the kiss, ignoring the words.
‘Sam, the fucking condoms are in the kayak.’
His words penetrate my haze and I stop fighting.
For a few long seconds we just stare at each other, like we’re both catching our breath, or sorting our mind.
He recovers first. ‘I’ll race you back there.’
I shake my head. If we race back it won’t be like this. I won’t feel like this.
I know I should get up and swim to cool off. I know I should do something sensible, instead I reach up and kiss him, slowly, lingering a lot.
‘Do you think we have a chance at long term?’ I ask, my lips brushing his as I speak.
‘I’ll do anything I can to fit you into my life. But I thought you only wanted a fling?’
I glance away from him, scrunch my eyes tight and bite my lips together. I didn’t realise he knew. I look back at him, right into his eyes. Time slows.
‘I’ve changed. Is that okay?’
‘You mean you want more than a holiday fling?’ His question is quietly spoken as if he’s holding his breath.
Chapter 15
I nod slowly, not breaking eye contact. My breath is caught in the emotional cauldron inside me. I know I should breathe but everything seems to be waiting for his answer, even my lungs.
‘I can work with that.’ He gives his usual grin, which for once does nothing to my knees. Instead it puts a delirious grin to my face, and makes me hook my legs around his hips, my arms around his neck and the kiss I begin is, incredibly, more heated than before. I could combust.
It takes only a few moments for me to be writhing beneath him, eagerly seeking his cock. But then I realise I haven’t quite spelled it all out to him, and knowing him, he won’t take advantage of my passion to do what he thinks I may not want.
I pull my mouth from the kiss. ‘If we’re talking some kind of exclusive relationship, where we work out the details later, can we skip protection?’
I watch as his expression vanishes, his face jerks back slightly and his eyes widen. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive.’
‘You won’t regret this in the aftermath?’
I shake my head. ‘No. Not now.’
He smirks, so I know he’s going to say something cheeky, but I probably deserve it.
‘Is it because I play for Australia?’
When I arch my brow at him and scrunch my forehead, he explains. ‘You know, I wasn’t good enough unless I’d worn the green and gold.’
I laugh because his smirking grin tells me he’s not serious. I know he doesn’t believe that. I know he’s lightening an intense moment and giving me time to change my mind in case I’ve made a hasty decision in a lust-fuelled state. It only makes me like him even more. And like is becoming too ridiculously weak a word for these feelings. It’s love. But I can’t admit that out loud.
‘Yep, I’m like that. Only the best will do for me.’ I press a gentle kiss against the edge of his lips. ‘And you Cooper, are the best.’ Our lips lock. Talking is over for now. From here on, it’s all passion, clean-skin sex, and sensation. I haven’t had skin sex since I was a gawky, fumbling teenager.
With Cooper there’s no gawkiness, no fumbling. We move together with ease even in our desperation. He sits on his heels before he lifts my legs up and wiggles my hips up onto his thighs. ‘I don’t want you ripped to shreds by sand.’ His hands lift my shoulders so I’m sitting on his lap.
How can I help but smile? What man thinks of sand abrading your back while he fucks you?
He holds me on his lap and our lips meet in a kiss that’s both gentle and rough. Holding all the need, but somehow keeping it controlled. And that’s the power of us, the expertise of him. He’s strong and powerful but somehow restrained.
He breaks the kiss and laps against my lips with the tip of his tongue, tasting me like a rich dessert. I curl my hand around his cock. Hand closed tightly, I direct his cock along my slick folds. Starting with a silken brush over my throbbing clit, sliding between my wet lips, and finishing with a probe of my tight hole. Just the silken head pushing against my tightness. I want to tease first, please later.
The warmth of his cock is what I notice first. No gasp from cool latex or lube. Only the silken touch of skin as warm as my own, sliding through moisture. I wonder if he perceives the difference. Does he enjoy the silken-wet warmth of my cunt instead of the tight confinement of latex?
Looking up into his face makes my blood heat and fizz. His eyes are closed, head tipped back, lips parted and jaw clenched tight. His teeth are just visible and I’m tempted to push my tongue between his lips and slide it against his pearly whites. A hiss escapes him as I press myself onto his cock probing my core. I didn’t mean to take his cock-head inside but now it is, I can’t hold back. Clinging to his shoulders, I lower myself onto him, ensuring I take him slowly so I feel every centimetre of solid silken warmth.
Both our heads are thrown
back as I settle on the full, glorious length of him. The sunlight warms my face and shoulders. Dancing spots dart across my closed eyelids. My whole body is warmed from the outside and in.
‘God, you’re wet.’ His voice is strained but also holds something like awe or wonder or shock. Maybe it does feel incredible for him too. I stare at him for a few seconds, my pupils adjusting to the blazing sun, before we both move and our lips meet in a kiss that’s as wet and needy as I am.
His hands tighten on my hips, directing my movements through pressure and the slightest forward motion. I don’t need a lot of encouragement. The swollen heat of him inside me demands action.
I rise and fall, slowly at first, but the tension is too much and as our kisses turn fast, tongues duelling and teeth clashing, my thighs pump me up and down his length, faster and faster.
My breasts jiggle in the warm air, creating a little cool draught. My nipples have tightened, silently begging for his touch but his hands still grasp my hips.
I arch so my nipples rub against the solid spheres of his pecs, and we thrust together. Then he pulls from the kiss, his mouth open in a soundless word. His head tips back just enough so his chest pushes harder against my throbbing breasts.
His fingers almost mash my hip bones, his grip becomes uncomfortable, but before I can do anything about it, his cock thrusts upwards once, twice, three, four times, before his body tenses and a growl erupts from deep inside him. I’m flooded. Flooded by heat, warmth and moisture. His cock thrusts freely and deeply.
My clit is crushed each time he strains into me. Exquisite heat fills me. A throbbing deep inside sets up and then I burst, as if every cell within me has swollen and popped. I’m drowning, flooded by sensation. Sitting in a pool of hot sticky seed and molten lust. My hands grasp his biceps, holding on for life, while I’m speared by his cock, over and over. Wave after wave of sensation hits me.
It’s a release like none I’ve ever had. My whole self has been torn asunder and mended. However, I must have acquired new bits or am missing bits or have not been put together right because I feel wrong. Not like me at all. The world looks different. The sunlight is more intense. The sky a brighter blue. The sand brilliant white. I can hear the sweep of wings when a tern flies past. Cooper’s heart thumps beside me. I can almost hear the whoosh of blood as it pumps through arteries. My body is lighter, either defying gravity or I’ve lost a lot of kilos through good sex.
I’m still joined to Cooper, resting on his knees, my arms holding his, my head against his shoulder, his arms around me holding me close. Tears drip down my cheeks. I don’t think I can ever move again. I don’t think I’m capable of rising free of his cock. And I don’t think I can ever let him go.
Yet tomorrow I go home.
The thought is like an icicle to my heart, stabbing and chilling in one action.
This isn’t me.
I don’t get emotional after sex. I don’t get attached to partners. I don’t lose my focus. But right now I’ve no idea what to do with my life. No idea what to focus on.
‘Jesus, Sam.’ I hear the words but the voice doesn’t sound like Cooper’s. ‘Are you okay?’ His hand scoots along my spine, calming and soothing. His touch soaks in, easing me.
‘I don’t know.’ My voice doesn’t sound like mine either. ‘Are you?’
We’re still connected, wrapped around each other, when a large wave dances against my feet. Cooper jerks, sharply pulling us apart. My head clears a little.
Cooper curses. ‘Bloody wave.’ It must have run right underneath him. I’m lucky he didn’t drop me off his lap.
I kiss his neck, working my way around to his face. He brushes my cheekbones with his thumbs before our lips meet in a gentle kiss. A soft joining. Our lips move over each other, tongues just touch and retreat. My fingers spear through his hair, holding his head lightly, the short threads tickle. His fingers massage my scalp, holding me gently in place.
I’ve never felt this in tune with anyone. Never been so caught up in the web of another. As much as the thought scares me, I also have hope. Not only hope, but joy. A feeling like finishing a race, running up that last stretch, alone with the pain and hurt, but also with hope and joy at the thought you’ve earned it. Earned the success. Earned the personal best time. Or even earned the win.
The kiss ends and we sit together. Silent. Still, except for ragged breaths.
‘I’m falling in love with you.’ The words that pour from my mouth stun me. I stare at Cooper. My gaze locked to his. My breaths timed to his. My words hanging heavy in the cool air.
‘I know, Sam. I feel the same.’
‘I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know if I can — ’
His thumb brushes my lips, halting my words.
‘We’ll work it out together. Our way.’
I nod. It’s all I’m capable of.
It takes a long time before we move, each unfolding from our cramped position slowly before stretching tight muscles.
‘Need a swim?’ I ask as the knots loosen.
‘Sounds good.’ He captures my hand and together we take a dip. A quiet swim basking in our togetherness. Touching like we’re discovering each other for the first time. Kissing softly, reverently. Brushing bodies briefly. A gentle, quiet time like we haven’t shared before.
After the swim, we head back to the kayak, have a quick bite to eat and then continue on the journey.
Once we’re paddling, Cooper says, ‘Let’s see if we can work a few things out before we get back, okay?’
Genuinely confused, I ask, ‘What things?’
‘I don’t do relationships, Sam, and neither do you.’ My heart clenches. The ocean slips past, my arms keep moving, hips rocking in time between strokes but I’ve no idea where they’re getting the oxygen and blood supply from. My heart and lungs have shut down.
He continues. ‘But rules can be broken, especially for someone like you.’
A whoosh of air escapes my lips and I can’t mask it with the dip of the paddle or the surge of the sea. He has to know it’s me and relief, hand in hand.
The silence lasts for so long — I figure he’s waiting for me to speak. He hasn’t asked a question so I’m not sure what I’m meant to say. I go with the relationship thing because I can’t think of anything else. ‘I don’t have rules. I just suck at relationships. I am willing to try though.’
‘Why do you suck at relationships?’
Good question and I wish I knew the answer. I shrug. ‘I don’t know what to say most of the time. I don’t know how people take me. I don’t understand the game playing. I don’t have time, or at least I didn’t, to stuff around working things out.’ I dip the paddle in for another stroke while I think about what I said. I’ve left out the important bit. ‘I don’t get that with you. Oh, well, some of it. I never know what to say.’
‘With me?’
I nod.
‘When?’
‘Even now. I don’t know if this is what you want me to say, if this is what you want to talk about. I don’t know where we’re going.’
Cooper barks in a kind of laugh and a scoff. ‘I don’t have an agenda. I just want to know what you’re thinking. I didn’t know you found it hard. I thought you were straight, honest, telling me what you thought?’
‘I am. With you, that’s what I do. That’s why you’re different.’
‘Okay, so that’s a good thing, right? It means we’re ready to give a relationship a try?’
I shuffle in my seat, miss a couple of strokes and then give up trying to paddle. I rest the oar across my lap. ‘I’d love that, except I don’t know that I can handle the fame, the publicity thing you have. I flounder and you take it in your stride. I imagine it’s even worse in Melbourne and I don’t know if I can manage that.’
Cooper makes a few strokes to correct our course and the quiet dip and swoosh of the oar calms me. His paddle stops and the kayak wobbles as he shifts. His fingers grasp my right shoulder. A squeeze and a brush
across my skin centres me. It’s like I’ve said the right thing again, even when it scares me.
‘It is more than what we’ve seen here. It’s not much worse than Jim on the walk though. It’s not like the paparazzi stalk me.’
I turn around and flash him a grin before picking up the paddle again. We make our way along the island in silent contemplation. As we pass Neds Beach, we wave to the people.
‘You’d be able to handle it, like you have here. And it gets easier the more it happens. Most people are a repeat of the person before, so you have lots of practice at the same questions, same answers. It’s just patience, making a choice about how much to say, and dealing with people. I know you’ll cope.’
‘What if I run?’ I know I do that too easily and I don’t want to embarrass him.
‘So long as you make up an excuse that has me running with you, I’m in.’ Cooper laughs and I know he’s making light of the truth. If I protect him, he’ll look after me. He’s honourable like that.
The Admiralty Islands are off to the right as we turn the corner and the northern part of the island with its rugged cliffs drifts past.
‘Does our age difference bother you? I’ll be pushing to fit kids in before it’s too late, yet you’re in no rush.’
He chuckles. ‘It would bother me if I was 15, but I don’t think about it.’
‘Other people might.’
‘I don’t care what other people think. It’s my life, my choice and my business.’
‘What would you have done…what were you planning for your life before we met?’
The northern cliffs go by and still there’s no response. I wonder if I should rephrase the question, or if I’ve intruded, or if it’s too difficult. I can’t see his expression when I twist around because of the sunglasses, cap, and the shadow from its brim.
‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.’
‘It’s not that. Ask me anything you want. I’m yours, Sam.’ He rests his paddle but I keep stroking, slow and measured. I hope the rhythmic dip and pull will calm him as it did me. Sometimes finding an answer is a struggle.
