Sting

by Jennifer Ryder

  “I want to expand the garden, and start selling herbs and whatever else I grow that we don’t use ourselves. I’ve even thought about doing takeaway box dinners.”

  “Sounds amazing. I’d be happy to help with the garden side of things. You know, having big mussies and all, I can build a few more beds. I can even build a couple of rectangular garden beds on wheels if you wanna put them outside the café during the day, then just wheel them in at night.”

  “That would be amazing. Oh, and people can even pick them fresh when they buy them.” She takes a sip of wine, and smiles. I know it sounds like a pipe dream, but I’d love to start my own franchise. You know, minimalistic fit-out, pre-loved furniture, good coffee and tasty organic food. It didn’t take too much outlay to set up what Gabs and I have. I think it speaks for itself. Just good honest food, in a warm environment.”

  “I think it’s the people who run it that keep people coming back, too,” I offer.

  She smiles brightly. “I couldn’t have done it without Gabs. You know, she’s lived here her whole life. Everyone local knows her. She ran one of the pubs for ten years with her husband, who was the publican. Locals have a real soft spot for her, and it doesn’t take long for her to make new friends.”

  “I can definitely see that about her.”

  “She’s always talked about leaving here, I don’t know why. Maybe there are too many memories.”

  “Well, I think you girls can take your business as far as you want to. It doesn’t sound like a pipe dream to me. It just makes sense.”

  She slides her hand across the table, and I snatch it up in mine and kiss her knuckles.

  “You look beautiful, tonight,” I say as I rub across her knuckles.

  She laughs softly and shakes her head. “You said that already.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  ****

  With a very relaxed Willow on my arm, we leave the restaurant, well fed. When we arrive at the beach it’s on dusk, and perfectly deserted. The way I want it. I take off my shoes and socks and roll my jeans halfway up my calves. Willow groans as she flicks off her heels.

  “Sheesh. Next time I’m wearing my sneakers, or better yet, thongs,” she curses.

  I throw the beach towels over my shoulder and we walk hand in hand to a relatively flat area of sand, with a grassed hill behind us for a windbreak. And privacy. The breeze is warm—thankfully not as stinking hot as it was earlier today. I lay the towels down side by side, forming a comfortable footing for what comes next. Well, who comes next. If I have my way, Willow is up first.

  “I wouldn’t want you to crush your clothes, Blondie, so I suggest you take them off.”

  She laughs and a hiccup bursts from her mouth. She whips the top off and tosses it to the far corner of the towels.

  The hiccups continue as she unzips her skirt and gracefully steps out of it, throwing it in the same direction.

  I lay back and hook my fingers behind my head, giving Willow a right eye-fucking. It’s akin to having a swimwear model wet dream. “Ever since I saw you in this freakin’ bikini I was done for.”

  As I remove my shirt she rolls her eyes, and places her hands on her hips. Another hiccup jumps up her throat, and she places her hand over her neck and growls.

  “I know a sure fire way to get rid of those hiccups,” I say, unbuckling my jeans and sliding my boxers down. My hardened cock springs free. I dig the foil packet from my back pocket and roll a condom on.

  “How?” she says, slipping her hand into mine.

  I reach a hand out to her and lift my chin, silently ordering her to get over here. “Sit down. I promise they’ll be gone before you can scream Ryan.”

  She slips down her bikini bottoms, and straddles my hips.

  I run my finger down the front of her bare pussy, slip my finger inside her and then spread her arousal over her swollen clit. I drive into her, deep, savouring the incredible feeling of her muscles clenching my dick as she glides slowly up and down.

  She arches her back and makes an animal-like cry to the stars. It’s a fucking beautiful sight.

  I sit and roll the bottom of her bikini up, exposing her hardened nipples to my eager mouth.

  My legs twitch with each thrust closer to orgasm. Willow’s hands fist my hair as I devour each nipple, sucking hard, then swirling my tongue around the swollen nub.

  Willow tugs my hair backwards so our lips are but a breath apart. “They’re gone,” she breathes. Her lips tease at mine as she slips her tongue into my mouth, flicking and toying with me. This mouth.

  “Touch yourself,” I say against her lips. She traces her finger around my mouth before gliding it inside. I wrap my tongue around it, sucking hard as she pushes it in and out.

  She slides her fingers between her legs, and rubs. Her thighs clench together, making it that much tighter inside. My eyes don’t leave her hand as she swirls her fingers, over and over.

  “Doesn’t get old watchin’ you do that,” I say, my voice hoarse.

  A mischievous grin quirks at her mouth, but the moment I grip her hips, and thrust hard inside her, her mouth forms the perfect O.

  Willow calls out my name, a sexy chuckle following after. Hearing that never gets old either. “Feels so good,” she whispers.

  I hug Willow’s upper body to my chest, and hungrily kiss her sweet mouth. My limbs tense. My leg jerks.

  I come hard, like a fucking freight train. Stars flash my vision as I twitch deep inside her walls.

  Willow buries her head into my neck, kissing me gently before letting out a long, measured breath. As I lay us back, our hearts beat almost violently against one another. Waves crash to shore and reeds whistle as they wrestle with the wind, and my pulse returns to normal.

  Call me a pussy, but I wanna remember tonight, this feeling, forever. I’m in fucking paradise.

  A whimper slips from her mouth. Her chest jumps erratically as she takes in a shaky breath. What the?

  I twist my head. The moonlight picks up the glint of a tear gliding down her cheek.

  “Are you okay?” Did I squeeze her too tight?

  Willow glances away and moves to lie beside me. I fix myself up, and grab my shirt and place it over her.

  “Tell me,” I plead, and pull her close.

  “You know, today’s my birthday.”

  Is that what’s up with her today? Is she scared of ageing another year? Why would she be worried about that? She’s young.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I would have thought at least Gabby would have given me that piece of information. It’s lucky I made an effort.

  “No one knows,” she says, reading my thoughts on why Gabby didn’t step up. “I don’t like to make a big deal of it, you know? It’s not something I celebrate anymore.”

  Any more?

  “How come?”

  “It reminds me too much, of stuff.”

  “Heavy stuff, I’m guessing.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, how about we make a new memory, then?” I jerk my eyebrows up and down.

  She laughs softly and runs her fingers across my smooth jaw. A smirk tickles at her mouth. “I think you’ve covered all kinds of memories this evening.”

  “Ah, but I’m not done yet. Not until the birthday girl is completely satisfied. One more memory?”

  “That’d be nice.”

  “Sex on the beach again, or something else? Whatever the birthday girl wants.”

  Her smile now reaches her eyes, making me wanna hug her, and squeeze her half to death. It’s as if I can’t get close enough.

  “There’s something I’d like to do, but not outdoors. My place?”

  I help her to her feet, and take in her perfect form once more. The moonlight kisses her supple skin as she gathers up our clothes.

  “Let’s get outta here,” I whisper.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  WILLOW

  On the short drive home, all I can think about is sex. My libido has been dormant for years, and
now Ryan has brought my body into another realm. I just can’t get enough.

  Sex before Ryan was lacklustre. That’s being kind. A means to an end, and rarely mine. Ryan has given me more orgasms in the last week than I’d had in my entire relationship with Jacob. Because I know for a fact he was gifting them elsewhere.

  I’ve read Fifty Shades, among many others. My books have fuelled my desire for more. I want fire and heat to rain down on me in the bedroom, and I want and need a man who can give me that. I want Ryan to help me explore my sexuality. I’m in my prime. My body yearns for it. So does my heart.

  I don’t want a billionaire, a celebrity, or a bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks. I want an everyday guy who works hard, is a good person, but most importantly, who has a heart.

  Ryan has a heart the size of Ayers Rock. And then some.

  We shed our clothes in the bathroom, and shower. Bubbles swirl down the drain as we remove every last grain of sand that stuck to our bodies.

  “What kind of memory are we talkin’?” Ryan asks, as he sucks and nips at my shoulder. He glides one hand down my stomach, reaching between my legs, and with the other he runs a finger down the seam of my arse, touching me where he did so intimately on our first night. And I surprisingly liked it. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.” His voice is genuine, warm. It turns my insides to molten lava.

  He rests his forehead against mine, and lets those sexy brown eyes continue the rest of the conversation.

  What I want is feisty in the bedroom.

  “I feel really awkward asking this, but I wanna feel you bare. I … I’ve never had that, but I need to know if …” I wipe at the annoying wet strands of hair that get caught in my eyelashes.

  “I’m clean?” he suggests.

  Phew. I’m glad I didn’t have to be the one to bring it up. “Um, yeah?”

  “Yeah. I am.” He nods and turns off the water. “Come on.”

  We dry ourselves and crumble into a heap on my bed. Ryan pins my wrists above my head. He kneels between my legs, pushing my thighs further apart, opening myself to him. Already, my heart is racing, and I know I’m wet.

  “I respect a woman’s privacy, so I’m not about to go rummaging through your bedside drawer, but you got any toys?”

  Ooh. This could be interesting …

  “I may have a little something in there?” I jerk my head towards my bedside table, also known as The Home of the Silver Bullet. “Although, it’s not very little.”

  “Really?”

  He lets go of me, and places one of my hands between my legs. He arranges my fingers so I’m cupping myself. “Hold this,” he says with a wink.

  He opens the drawer, reaching through to the back. He seizes the silver zip-up bag, which houses my secret eight inches. My heart pounds harder as he undoes the zip.

  He pulls out the shiny toy and chuckles softly, as he moves it between the varying speeds.

  “Mmm. This’ll do nicely,” he says and waggles his eyebrows.

  He pulls my black pyjama top from under the pillow beside me, rolls it up, and places it over my eyes like a blindfold. The last thing I see is that delicious dimple before my vision goes black. Ryan takes my hands, and places them behind my head, weaving my fingers around the bed head.

  “Hold on,” he growls in my ear. The next thing I feel is the bullet on what sounds like low speed against my earlobe. He trails it over each nipple and down my stomach. A guttural moan rises up my chest. I arch my back, desperate for more.

  Ryan fills my mouth with his explorative tongue, then nibbles and sucks at my lower lip in turn. He skims the bullet over the sensitive flesh of my thigh. My legs jerk as the vibrations make contact with my clit.

  “Sweet …” I whisper and take in a sharp breath as the cool vibrator enters me, just a short way.

  His hot breath skims down to my breast, teeth grazing my hardened nipple as he guides the toy farther inside me, and then out. Slowly. In … out. In … out. The deliberate pace is exquisite, but I find myself tilting my hips, needing more. I want it deeper. Faster.

  The deep ache inside me intensifies as he shuffles farther down the bed. Open-mouthed kisses land on my bare mound. With a strong flick of his tongue, I buck my hips and raise my head off the pillow. I release my hands and grip his head, tugging his hair to hold that wondrous mouth right where I want it. The makeshift blindfold falls to my chest.

  He draws my clit into his mouth, and in one long suck, I’m teetering on the brink.

  “Oh, Ry—” I grunt out, pulling harder on his hair.

  He rests his chin below my belly button, his stubble grazing my sensitive skin. His lust-fuelled gaze sparks a sharp twinge in my chest. Love. That’s what it is. It can’t be anything else.

  “Not so fast,” he says, removing the vibrator and flipping me over. The loss of his touch leaves me feeling empty. He spreads my knees apart, widening them with his own.

  “What’re you,” I mutter between heavy breaths, “doing?”

  With sweaty palms, I grip the bedhead. I gasp as the heat of his hard cock drives into me, as deep as he can go.

  “Fuckin’ heaven,” he breathes, guiding himself out to the tip before plunging back in. A slapping noise fills the room as our damp skin makes contact with each thrust.

  And he’s bare. Incredible.

  The sensation of our bodies fitting together, the way it should be, creates a rush of warmth to my pelvis.

  I reach between my legs, and rub myself as he spreads wetness between my cheeks with the pad of his thumb. On instinct, I clench. We’ve been exploring that option more and more, and although I was a little nervous to begin with, to my surprise, I like it.

  He holds the top of the vibrator against his shaft, and leans the side of it between my cheeks. As he glides his cock slowly in and out of me, the vibrations create the perfect stimulation, inside and out.

  “Holy sharks!” I cry out, as my orgasm reaches out to every part of my body, in a zinging frenzy. I close my eyes; white flashes spark behind my eyelids.

  Still buzzing, he drops the vibrator and grips my waist.

  Ryan grunts, and slows the rocking of his hips. “You can’t say that, Willow,” he says through a gruff chuckle. He withdraws, and I fall into the sheets. He flips me over and drives into me once more.

  “I can’t help it. That was, oh-my-God.” I angle my hips upwards and link my ankles around his waist. A giggle escapes my mouth.

  “It’s no time for laughing, and it’s shit funny when you say that, but I’m tryin’ to come and all I wanna do is laugh.”

  “I’m sorry. You just make me feel things I didn’t know were possible.” I breathe out heavily. When I drag in a deep lung full of air, I silently chastise myself. He’s right. It’s not a laughing matter.

  I run my hand up his thighs, and dig my nails into the hard muscle of his behind. He drives deeper. A stuttered groan gurgles up my throat as he revives the orgasm that was slowly fading. No. I can’t go again so soon. Can I?

  “Fuck, you want me to pull out?” he says and pants heavily.

  I’m on the edge again, and for the first time in my life I’m being selfish. It is my birthday, after all.

  “No,” I breathe. I arch my back as Ryan drives into me, yet again into a state of pure ecstasy. He pulses deep within me, filling me with his seed. The sensation, the closeness I feel with him, is out of this world.

  ****

  RYAN

  I wring out a warm washer and return to the bedroom. The blush she’s wearing is as red as I am satisfied.

  “I got some on the sheets,” she says, and clenches her thighs together, moving her feet closer to her arse.

  I kneel in the middle of the bed and push her knees out, opening her glistening pussy to me.

  My come spills from her and onto the white cotton. I wanna beat my fists on my chest. I’ve claimed her.

  With the soft flannel, I gently wipe up the side of her thigh. Willow puts a hand on mine, haltin
g me.

  “It’s okay. You don’t need to do that,” she says, and takes over. Her cheeks flush a deep shade of pink. She gets up and wipes the sheets.

  “Are you embarrassed about the mess?”

  She shrugs one shoulder. “I guess not.”

  “Well don’t be. Watching my come spill out of you is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, Blondie.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Really. You happy with the memory?”

  “You bet your sweet cupcakes, I am.”

  I shake my head and chuckle as she sways out of the room, as naked as the day she was born.

  Bare is fucking awesome.

  ****

  When Willow returns from the bathroom, I drag her into bed and draw her into my arms, facing me.

  “How old is the birthday girl, huh?” I ask, tracing my finger down her arm.

  “You really wanna know?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

  “Thirty. I can’t believe it,” she says and scoffs.

  “What’s so bad about thirty? I’m not that far off.”

  “I just thought …” she huffs, and squirms against me.

  “Thought what?”

  “I just imagined at thirty, things would be different.”

  “How?”

  “Four years ago I had my life completely mapped out. I was engaged, and I’d hoped by now I’d be lucky enough to have a child.”

  “You were engaged?” My voice is higher, surprising the both of us.

  “Yes. It didn’t end well.”

  I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact she was about to walk down the aisle, but this leads me back to my earlier suspicions about that day she stormed out of the café a wreck. Was he abusive towards her? Is that what happened?

  “Did he hurt you?” My voice wavers. The gravity of what she may respond with, weighs on me.

  She nods her head slowly. “Yes.”

  “Fuck,” I spit out. I grind my teeth against each other. Fucking hell! The fact that she admits to it sends an army of goosebumps to ripple over my skin. I hate the thought of it, of anyone hurting this sweet thing. My sweet thing.