Smut by the Sea

by Lucy Felthouse

  My ears pricked up as I heard the screen door to his balcony open and there was a delicious smell of coffee as he came outside. As I’d hoped, it was only a matter of moments before his cell phone rang.

  “Yo,” he said as he answered. He listened for a while and then laughed. “No, it went completely according to plan. Better. In fact way better than anything I could ever have imagined.”

  I heard him slurping down his coffee.

  “See her again? Are you kidding? This one’s for real. I’ll never get enough of what she’s got on offer. I’m seeing her again tonight and every night for as long as she lets me.”

  Just what I wanted to hear.

  I lay back and stared out at the golden strip of sand below and the blue ocean stretching away from it. I had a feeling that I’d be spending quite a bit of time down on that beach from now on.

  Then I remembered. There was something else I meant to tell you about my new apartment.

  Great next door neighbours!

  I Like It Wet

  By Tanith Davenport

  A shaft of sunlight slid through net curtains, creating a pool of light on the carpet. Standing in her natural spotlight, hands on hips, Talia tilted her head to one side and critically scrutinised her reflection in the mirror.

  This one? Or the Topshop one?

  Behind her, on the cornflower-quilted double bed, lay several discarded items of clothing, crumpled from being tried on and dismissed. A black and white Topshop vest drooped from the corner of the mattress.

  Tucking her thumbs into her pockets, Talia struck a pose and held it to admire the effect.

  Not bad.

  Long, tanned legs, cut-off blue denim hotpants, a blue and white tank top decorated with glittering sequins. Bare feet flecked with blue nail varnish; fingernails matching. Talia pulled up her blonde hair, eyed herself, then shook her head and let it fall back in waves on her shoulders. Better that way. Her forelock, dip-dyed in a wash of pink and lilac, fell across one eye.

  But ugh, she looked exhausted. Wearing only minimal make-up, her skin looked dull and lifeless, her eyes smudged with shadows. It had been a hard few weeks. Work had been stressful; the hours had been long, a project for a difficult client particularly demanding. Her manager, the head designer, had been in a foul mood all week, and when Talia had approached her about an idea for her next project - ugh.

  And, despite flashing low-lashed eyes at that cute designer from the other office, she was still being flatly ignored.

  This weekend away was her gift to herself.

  She left the clothes where they were, but kicked her suitcase under the bed. There would be plenty of time to hang them up later. Idly she picked up the leather-bound folder on the nearby desk and flipped through the pages. Welcome to the Royal Hotel…Breakfast menu… Room service…

  The breeze from the open window fluttered the curtains, carrying the cries of seagulls. Talia crossed to close the sash, pausing to take a deep, indulgent breath, luxuriating in the sea air.

  This was going to be a good weekend.

  ***

  The hotel was at the top of the cliff, overlooking Scarborough’s South Bay. A long stretch of white beach ran as far as the eye could see, edged along the roadside with cockle stands and seaside rock stalls. From her vantage point at the top of a flight of stone steps leading to the seafront, Talia could see that the tide was almost in, waves already beginning to crash against the bay wall.

  She trotted down the steps, white wedge sandals slapping on the concrete, and made her way along the main street towards the cliffs at the far right of the bay. The seafront was packed, a morass of people and dogs set to a soundtrack of jangling arcade music, and the scent of fried doughnuts and candyfloss drifted from windows as she passed them.

  Maybe later she’d treat herself. But right now her focus was on the sea.

  The busy street gave way to a flat stone walkway, rising above her in rock and greenery on one side. Sunlight danced on the sea, an almost blinding shimmer. Talia rested her hands on the wall and looked down at the waves as they surged below.

  If she could live anywhere, it would be within sight of the sea. Soothing and raging by turns, she needed it to live, needed it to breathe. God, it had been a rough month. She needed the break. And watching the ebb and surge, it was as though her worries were being massaged away.

  A larger wave was swelling, rushing forward, and Talia threw her head back in anticipation.

  Hit me!

  A crash, a roar, and suddenly she was engulfed in sparkling spray, followed by the sudden splash of cool water drenching her face, her hair and her shirt, plastering the fabric to her body. Shaking her head, Talia flicked her hair from her face and opened her eyes just in time to see another wave approaching.

  This one was bigger, faster, and the slap as it hit the wall threw it higher before falling in a deluge, soaking her from head to toe. Pressing her hands on the top of the wall, Talia arched her back and let the water flow over her, feeling the familiar sensation of cold mingling with the heat of the sun on her body.

  All the tension in her muscles seemed to wash away with the water.

  She shifted her hips, aligning her sex with the seam that ran alongside the zip on her hotpants. As she arched her back, she felt the delicious pressure on her clitoris and bit her lip to stifle a moan. Oh, that’s good. Leaning further over the wall, she rotated her hips, struggling to keep her movements small as every nerve ending seemed to rush to the sweet point of her body.

  Another wave, another cool rush of water, and Talia gasped, closing her eyes as the pleasure mounted. Slowly she ran one hand across her stomach and higher, cupping her breast, stroking her thumb over one pebbled nipple. A wave of heat flooded through her, contrasting deliciously with the cascading cold water; as she felt her own hot moisture in her centre, the thought I’m so wet flitted through her mind and she bit off a hysterical laugh, clenching her fingers on top of the wall as the sensation spiked, surging forward, and her toes were curling in her shoes as her body tightened.

  Yes!

  She pressed her eyes tightly shut and let out a long, slow breath, her heart racing in her ears. Fuck, yes.

  Through the fading haze of her orgasm, something was tickling at the edge of her consciousness.

  “…Talia?”

  Fuck!

  Talia spun round and found herself face to face with the distinctly male source of the voice - tall, slim, blond, and with the air of an art student, something he never seemed able to shake off. He was staring at her unashamedly, mouth half open, practically drooling.

  It was him. The cute guy from the other office.

  Jay.

  He had been brought in to assist the head designer for menswear six months ago. Talia had had time to size him up at several photo shoots while they were supervising the models. From what she’d seen, he knew what he was doing, but the models often viewed him as a work experience boy - Talia had often seen the shock on their faces when he barked orders at them, their utter disbelief that this young man could be in charge.

  And oh God, he was hot when he laid down the law. Talia would have deliberately misbehaved just to hear his voice cut the air - especially since she knew he was never really angry. At the last photo shoot, after telling off a model, he had turned and caught her watching him, smiled, and winked.

  Damn, so cute.

  Now, somehow, they were face to face on the footpath, and Jay was staring at her as though she was a decadent dessert. Talia blinked, suddenly conscious of her own appearance. He had only ever seen her in fashionable clothes, and here she was in a drenched shirt and hotpants, the fabric of her top plastered tightly to her body and see-through at the chest, revealing the blue bikini she was wearing underneath.

  And still flushed from her orgasm. Oh God, she hoped he hadn’t been standing there the whole time.

  The silence was painful. Unable to think of anything better to say, she blurted out “What are you doing in Scarborough
?”

  “Oh!” Jay visibly jumped, startled out of his stupor. “I could ask you the same question.”

  “I’m here for the weekend. After the month we’ve had, I need a break.” Talia noticed Jay’s eyes drifting gradually downwards as though dragged by a ten-ton weight, and folded her arms across her chest protectively. “What about you?”

  Jay jerked his eyes back up to meet hers. “I came down to visit my aunt. She runs a B&B here.”

  Talia opened her mouth to say something vaguely polite, but was cut off as a breeze blew in off the sea, ruffling her wet hair. The sudden coolness made her shiver, and her fingers dug into her bare arms as goosebumps rose on her skin.

  Jay noticed. “Are you cold?”

  Of course I’m bloody cold, Talia thought irritably, keeping her arms crossed as her nipples responded to the drop in temperature. Out loud, she simply said “A bit.”

  “You need to get inside. You’ll freeze.”

  “I’ll go hang around in an arcade.”

  Jay paused; he seemed to be considering his response.

  “Do you want to get lunch somewhere, maybe?”

  “I’ve got no cash on me,” Talia admitted. She had been cured of that mistake after retrieving a sodden ten-pound note from a pocket.

  “I’ll get it.”

  “Okay.” Another breeze rippled across Talia’s skin, making her more conscious of her wet clothes. “But we should probably buy a beach towel as well.”

  ***

  It was a fact. Fate obviously hated him.

  Sitting in the fish and chip restaurant, across the table from her, Jay fidgeted with the menu and tried to ignore the raging hard-on trapped in his jeans.

  How many times had he wanted to take out Talia Lanter? And now here she was, wrapped in a beach towel from chest to knees, but with her hair dripping beads of water that clung to her skin, reminding him how she had looked when he had first seen her.

  When he had first spotted her on the seafront, desire had hit him like a knife in the gut. She had been leaning on the wall, back arched, the lines of her body drawing his eye straight to the swell of her breasts and the curves of her arse. Her shirt was plastered to her, wet and dripping, the hardness of her nipples clearly visible; her tanned legs glistened in the sunlight. It was better than anything he had ever dreamed - and she had featured in a lot of his dreams.

  And then another wave had hit her, and Jay’s stomach had dropped as he realised what he was seeing.

  Her face was flushed, her eyes closed and lips parted in an expression of ecstasy. Her hips rotated, thrust, bucked in an indolent motion he found his hands emulating, clenching as though clutching her arse. Her fingers beat time on the top of the wall, keeping to the rhythm of her swaying body, before suddenly withdrawing to stroke from her stomach to her chest, cradling her breasts briefly, then trailing back down to support her, resting on the stone.

  And then her legs began to tremble, her lips parted further, her eyes screwed closed, and a deep tremor seemed to rock her body; she bit her lip, but a moan still escaped her, followed by a long, pleasured sigh.

  Jay knew it would only have taken one brush of a hand on his rigid cock to bring him to release.

  And here he was now, damn it, still hard, and still frustrated.

  Leaning back in his chair, he threw an irritated glance around the room. Even though it was probably unreasonable to expect to see the food approaching already, he found himself feeling just that unreasonable. Food would give him an excuse to avoid asking all the questions burning on his tongue.

  So were you getting yourself off back there?

  So why do you like being drenched in sea water?

  So you like it wet?

  “You hungry?”

  Talia was eyeing him from across the table, wearing a half-smile that suggested she had guessed the reason for his preoccupation. He smiled back, trying to look casual.

  “Starving. You warmed up yet?”

  “Getting there. My top’s almost dry already.”

  Dragging his mind away from the image of Talia plastered in wet material, Jay took a proper look at what he could see of her top. It was blue and white, strappy, sequinned and, to his designer’s mind, far too delicate to be drenched in salt water.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t wrecked it, to be honest.”

  Talia laughed, idly running a finger along her neckline. “It’s not as flimsy as it looks. It’s my own design.”

  “Christ. Don’t you do enough of that at work?”

  “I’ve seen nothing but the Kessler Club project for weeks. There’s only so many cable-knit sweaters I can stand. I needed something frivolous to work on.”

  “Good point. I’d have gone nuts with that one.”

  At that point the waitress appeared with two plates of food. Jay fought to keep his eyes lowered, but couldn’t resist watching Talia as she ate. She had ordered scampi, and every mouthful that slipped between her lips was just - Stop thinking about sex, for God’s sake. What are you, fifteen?

  “So you design your own clothes?”

  Talia looked up. “Some of them. Don’t you?”

  “No. But then everything I do at Chicane is fun after where I used to work.” Jay couldn’t hold back an eye roll at the memory. His last job had been good training, but appallingly tedious. “I hope your next project is better than the Kessler one, then.”

  “So do I. I did ask Lara about a new lingerie line, but -” Talia paused and pulled a face.

  “She didn’t go for it?”

  “No. She said she was too busy to take on an ‘absolute punt’.” Talia shook her head. “Let’s not talk about it. I can design my own lingerie instead.”

  Jay turned back to his food, but the word lingerie stayed in his head, conjuring up images of Talia in silk and lace, pert breasts overflowing from a tight red basque - oh God. He would never be able to leave the table without embarrassing himself at this rate.

  By the time they had finished eating, Talia’s hair and clothes had mostly dried. As they left the restaurant, Talia let the towel fall, hanging it over one arm as she walked ahead of him.

  Jay’s eyes were immediately drawn to the small of her back, where her tank top had ridden up, revealing a tattoo of a blue dolphin on the crest of a wave. Its tail ran below the waistband of her hotpants, providing an irresistible image of where his fingers - or his tongue - should run.

  Fuck…

  Talia stumbled as they reached the pavement, and the towel slipped. Automatically Jay darted forward to catch it, but missed and caught her arm instead. In surprise Talia turned back, the towel dropping to the floor between them as they suddenly found themselves face to face.

  Her mouth was so close, so close, her lips parted, and Jay couldn’t resist - he leaned his head forward and kissed her.

  For a moment he thought she would push him away, but then her hands clenched on his arms and slid up to his shoulders as her body melded to his, and he found his own hands landing on her arse, clutching at her as her tongue touched his.

  Someone brushed past him, reminding him of their location, and Jay pulled back reluctantly, looking up to meet Talia’s wide blue eyes.

  He found himself saying the first words that came into his head.

  “What are you doing for dinner?”

  ***

  The text flashed up on Talia’s phone as she was leaving the hotel.

  Running early. Will grab the table and see you there. Jay.

  It was 7:15pm. Since the restaurant was only just round the corner, she thought it was more likely that she would get there first, but whatever. Talia dropped the phone back into her handbag and hopped down the two steps to the pavement, taking care not to fall off her heels.

  If Jay had liked her shirt that afternoon, he would love her dress. Red satin under a black chiffon overlay, spaghetti straps and a handkerchief hemline, studded with red sequins, it was designed to flatter all her favourite features while concealing others. It
was also designed to hold up if - by some mischance - it happened to get wet.

  Tuscany Italian was only a minute’s walk away. The restaurant was small, cosy, dominated by a well-stocked bar and elaborate mahogany sculptures, as well as a tall yucca plant which half-blocked the main doorway. Jay was already in place at a table in the middle of the room, along with two menus and a very welcome bottle of red wine.

  “Hey,” he greeted her as she sat down. “I hope you like red.”

  “I love red,” Talia assured him, deciding not to mention that she had never yet met a wine she hadn’t liked. No need to make him think she was a drunken fool.

  The conversation revolved around menu options for the next ten minutes, but after they had placed their order, Jay spoke up again.

  “I’ve been wanting to ask all afternoon. Tell me about your idea for a lingerie line.”

  “What’s the point? It’s not going to happen.”

  “Maybe you caught Lara at the wrong time.”

  Talia looked at him sardonically.

  “You might have. Anyway, tell me.”

  Shrugging, Talia took a gulp of the wine and launched into a description of the ideas that had been in her mind for months, but which had completely failed to impress Lara. She hadn’t expected them to impress Jay either - he might be a designer, but he designed for men, and probably would have no real interest in lingerie except how it looked on his latest girlfriend. But strangely, Jay actually looked as though her words were resonating with him.

  His eyes lit up when she got to the burlesque corsets.

  “You mean a sort of Dita von Teese approach?”

  “Yeah, exactly. Like a modern twist on the classic style, and in all sizes, so women at both ends of the range can get the look.”

  “I like that.” Jay caught her eye, a naughty expression crossing his face. “You might have to show me, though. You know, so I can get a real image of how it’ll look.”

  “Oh, will I?” Talia held his gaze, unabashed. “I’ll remember that.”