Bolstered by her admission, Seth grinned with happiness as he turned down the narrow road into the sanctuary. It was an idyllic setting, even in winter. Spanish moss hung thick from the trees giving the whole place a mysterious and eerie beauty. Fields of azaleas were beginning to bud and irises and daffodils were blooming with rampant abundance in every color from deep purple to the lightest yellow. As always, the wild splendor struck him. What his family had built and maintained; this was his legacy, his inheritance. But today, there was something more beautiful at his side, and her quiet, undemanding companionship meant more to him than the stacks of money that lined his family’s coffers. He wanted to make love to her, here, in the place they both called home.
“Ca-ca…” He paused to take a breath. “Will you let me ma-ma-make love to you?” The last three words rushed out. It just seemed if she said yes, that he could stand up and deliver a sermon. Riley might just be the secret to his dilemma.
She didn’t answer with words, at first; instead she buried her face in his neck and kissed him. “I can hardly wait.”
Seth pulled into a small opening in a grove of trees. Gathering Riley, a blanket and the food, he led her to a carpet of moss that would be soft enough to cushion their passion. As he spread the blanket, she gave him a shy smile and started shedding her clothes. “We are alone, aren’t we?”
“God, yes,” he gruffly agreed, the words seeming to come easier with Riley than with anyone. What he longed to do was make love to her and be able to tell her just what it meant to him. Soon, his clothes lay by hers and he thanked God for the warm dappled sunlight that blessed South Louisiana with temperate weather. Where else could a man make love to his woman out of doors on Valentine’s Day? Once again, he was stunned by her beauty. She was magnificently and wonderfully made. Knowing his speech would fail him, still he couldn’t resist trying to tell her.
Stepping close enough that her nipples grazed his chest, he whispered, “You are so beautiful. Look at what you do to me?” His cock was fully engorged, throbbing with anticipation and all he wanted to do was sink deep into her hot, wet lushness. Yesterday, his ego had been stroked by her response to him and today he was going to test the chemistry they had and see just how explosive their joining could be.
“Come here.” He sank to his knees and drew her down with him. Pushing her to her back, he vowed she wouldn’t be cold, he was going to create enough friction and heat to set the swamp ablaze.
“I want to please you,” she offered in the sweetest voice. “I’m glad you’re my first.”
Her announcement stopped him cold, not because it changed his mind, but it sure as hell changed his tactics. Seth had been about to ravish her. He knew how hot she was and he knew she wanted him, but now it was a whole different ball game. Riley was a virgin and deserved his every consideration.
“Oh sugar, I’m glad you told me. You’re so precious.” Seth set out to show her how precious she was. He showered her face with kisses, captured her mouth and made love to it with his tongue. When she began to moan and gasp, he captured those love noises in his mouth and answered them with groans of his own. With one hand between her legs, he massaged her vulva until it was wet and ready for him. As he played with her clit and her pussy, he sucked at her tits until she was lifting her hips and begging him to make her his.
“Seth, I need you. Please don’t make me wait.” Her hands were moving restlessly over his body, caressing and kneading. He could feel her little teeth scraping and nipping at his shoulder, she was ready. Rising over her, he looked down at Riley’s face. “Take me,” she implored. Then in the age old way that women let their men know they were wanted, she opened herself up to him, spread her legs and invited him inside. Taking his cock in his hand, he teased her little slit, making her quiver and gasp.
His gaze was drawn to those tits he loved, as they jumped and bounced with each breath. Licking the nipples, he heightened her arousal before he pushed inside. The tip of his cock breached the tender opening and he kissed her while she hummed her uncertainty. She wanted him but this was new. Riley was untried, untouched, unsullied and by God, she was his. Pushing in, he closed his eyes, relishing the snug glove-like fit enveloping him. Heaven! His cock felt like he was sinking deep into warm, slick, soft whipped cream. “Fuck!” he offered up the word like a prayer. “God! This is so damn good!” Words flowed from his lips. Seth had never felt so free.
“More, baby,” she urged him. “I want it all.” She pushed back a little, begging for a rhythm.
Seth pulled out and then sank back in, deep, deeper than before. He could feel her tighten around him, accepting him. Riley was accepting not only his cock, but his soul, the good, the bad, and the imperfect. Riley was taking him into her body and making him welcome.
It felt too good! He had to move. Seth was getting no resistance from Riley. She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck and accepted every thrust with a parry of her own. Granted such freedom, Seth began to pump. He thrust his cock into her over and over, building the heat, making her cream flow. She rolled her head from side to side and dug her nails into his shoulder. Her gasps became faster and she chanted his name, and when her pussy began to vibrate around him—little quivers and spasms—Seth let himself go and he bellowed his climax sending a flock of birds into the air that had been nesting in the trees nearby. The rushing of their wings masked the sweet whimpers and mewls of Riley as she came.
Seth held her close, rolling to one side and hugging her body to his. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That was the best Valentine’s gift anyone has ever given me.” He meant it. She had given him a gift, not only her body, but also the proof that he could be loved and desired despite his handicap.
“You’re welcome.” She kissed his chest, rubbing her face against his shoulder.
Seth looked over his shoulder at his home. Egret Island and Beaucoup was going to be a challenge in the days ahead. There were changes coming and he would have to decide if he had the will and the wisdom to make his father’s dreams come true. But right now there was a more important matter to settle, a question he had forgotten to ask. “Riley, honey,” he whispered in her ear. “Would you be my Valentine?”
* * * *
Would she be Seth’s Valentine? With a smile and a laugh, she answered, “Yes, I would love to be your Valentine.” He had come into her life just when she needed him most. Right now, she had no idea what the future held, or what their relationship would turn out to be, but Seth Walker had given Riley a gift she would never forget. He had shown her that she, Riley Jacobs, was worthy to be loved. She was desirable. She was sexy. Hugging him close, she prayed he would find peace and come to realize what he had to say was so much more important than how he said it.
Would she stay on Egret Island? Well, that question was still to be answered. But right now, she wouldn’t have traded one moment of the past two days for anything. “I can’t wait to read that author’s book, but no matter how erotic her writing is it won’t be as good as what we just shared. How about we go back to my place and do it again. I’m still hungry—for you.”
“You are?” He nipped at her ear. “How do you want it?”
“How do you think?” she teased him.
And when she breathed the words, Hot and spicy, Seth knew he had his work cut out for him. This woman’s appetite for loving was just as great as his and he couldn’t wait to satisfy her every desire.
*The End*
Lost in the Sea of You
by
Cynthia Arsuaga
Chapter One
They found the boat in late afternoon, on a February day as cold and dry as any gets in Maine. That’s how the adventure began for Mikael Larson, ex-Army, relatively new sheriff and unattached man in a small town. Starting uneventfully at home, by the time he walked into the station, the day turned weird on the way to unexplainable.
The first emergency call logged in mid-morning and the other ten came in rapid succession short
ly thereafter. As the newest law enforcement officer on the force, Mikael had taken a lot of grief from the staff the past few months, and thought the calls were another arranged practical joke. One last hurrah before he started reprimanding a few of them. They were really pushing his patience on the jokes. After the most recent call, he decided to play along one more time since today was the Day of Love after all. If he didn’t put a stop to the incessant calls, the so-called conscientious citizens of Marneport wouldn’t cease and would disrupt his well-organized station.
If he ventured to guess who really perpetrated the prank, he’d have imagined mischievous teenagers not the deputies jerking his chain. He’d made his view of such things clear to his employees. Teenagers were another story. Whoever planned the capricious escapade had to show the new southern sheriff in the Yankee village how taking over the position didn’t necessarily come with an easy time.
Since Mikael had nothing planned the rest of the day, he snagged the only available deputy, Dennis Valberg, then drove to the location where the mysterious marooned boat rested.
All the reports had been consistent in their description—yellow blistered paint, with a blue pilothouse, a small fishing boat measuring about fifteen to eighteen feet, sitting in the middle of a field. The last part baffled him. The area described was at least a quarter mile from the town’s harbor. The storm the night before had been fierce, heavy winds and rain, but to move a small boat far inland would take a tidal wave. Such an occurrence couldn’t pass unnoticed, even by a brand new landlubber sheriff.
About an hour after the last call, the two men arrived at the site. Mikael couldn’t help but notice how eerie the scene appeared. A fishing vessel set adrift on an ocean of bleak dry tundra.
“Well, will you look at that, Sheriff? Turns out the callers weren’t kidding,” the deputy commented.
“The vote isn’t in yet, Valberg.”
Mikael and his deputy exited the black SUV used for official business and walked toward the solitary boat, stepping over dry grass and bog. The blistering February wind bit into his exposed face. Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Why’d I take a job in Maine in the dead of winter? I could have taken that position in Georgia. It gets cold there, but nothing like this. At first, leaving Alabama for a new career path in the frigid Northeast in the middle of winter sounded like a good idea, but he made the decision when he interviewed for the job in the mellow days of fall. The leaves were turning, with a pleasant crispness in the air and the town seemed welcoming. After serving ten years in the U.S. Army and most of that in Iraq or Afghanistan, the slower pace of Marneport called to him and something else he couldn’t quite explain. He accepted the position before the holidays.
The closer Mikael approached the small vessel, the more the stench from freshly sea-salted decaying seaweed burned his nostrils. Searching the perimeter, he observed no truck marks, footprints or any other evidence as to how the boat arrived. His normal scene assessing instincts kicked in.
“Sheriff, come look,” Valberg called out.
As he moved to the aft side, faint writing on the hull caught his eye and he read the name. “Yeah, this is the Helga. Somethin’ I’m missing here?”
The deputy nodded. “Yes sir. This old girl went missing about fifty years ago during the Valentine’s Day storm of 1962, the worst one of the century.”
“You’re telling me this hunk of timber has been lost at sea for fifty years and now miraculously shows up? Valberg, do I look like I have stupid written across my forehead. This little boat would be nothing but rotten wood. C’mon fess up, this is another one of you boys indoctrinating me ‘cause I’m a southern boy in this town, right?”
The young man with dark, short cropped hair pushed his hands into his uniform pants pockets. “No, sir. This really looks like the Helga. I’ve seen pictures. No one ever found her. Became a legend in Marneport as to what happened to her, or so I heard.”
“Really? A legend? This little thing. What, the captain go out fishing one day and he got caught in this storm of the century, never returning?”
“Well, yes sir. But, he was a she.”
“Excuse me? A woman as the captain? That must have been an unusual thing fifty years ago.”
“From what I know of the story, there was a young woman who went out in search of her lover when the rain began. She took this here boat out against everyone’s advice. Not sure what happened after, but a big nor’easter came through and she never returned. Her lover came into port shortly after the Helga cleared the harbor buoy. Everyone came to call the story The Storm-Crossed Lovers. At least that’s the story I’ve heard. I don’t know all the fine details, but that’s one of the versions told and more often than not. Kind of sad really.”
A pickup truck pulled up alongside the gravel road. The driver exited and walked toward the two law enforcement officers. “Hey, Sheriff, Dennis,” the man said, nodding his head to add emphasis to his greeting to both officers. “So do you know who did this?”
“We just got here, Tom. What do you know?” Mikael asked.
“That’s what I’d like to find out. This here’s my property. I heard the storm last night, lots of wind and rain, but not enough to drop this hunk of junk so far inland. At least not without more help than Mother Nature offered.” The baritone voice of the husky man, who stood at least six foot and some, chilled Mikael to the bone more than the surrounding air. The man appeared an intimidating force, and Mikael had heard talk about town that Tom Berger fancied himself as Marneport’s honorary Sheriff. Mikael shifted his position.
Mikael met Tom a couple of times, mainly at Tide’s Inn and Bar, later discovering he owned the establishment. The tall man had to weigh over three hundred pounds and from what Mikael could tell, liked to intimidate people. As the new sheriff, he’d have to push back or never get respect. Even at his average height of five-ten, he could still bench press and arm wrestle with the best. Lots of practice in the Army. I can Alpha with the best of them. He snickered inwardly.
“We’re investigating. Are you suggesting you might know who did this?” the sheriff asked, shuffling his feet to stay warm. The wind picked up, penetrating his parka like the proverbial hot knife through butter. He still wasn’t used to the cold weather of Maine compared to Alabama’s temperate winters.
“Yeah, the punks who came into the bar a couple nights ago did this, I’ll bet ya. I had to call you guys to come and run them off. They are from Hammond and nothing but trouble.”
“Hmm,” Mikael said, glancing at his deputy. “You know anything about this Valberg?”
“I heard Jack and Carl had a call about a small skirmish the other night, but nothing to warrant an arrest.”
“I’m telling ya, those boys did this to piss me off. I told them never to come back and then this happens. You going to arrest them, Sheriff?”
“Tom, you want me to arrest the men without justification or proof?” the sheriff asked, getting an acknowledgement from the big man, and then continued. “Do you have the names of these alleged perpetrators? I can’t go around arresting people without cause. You can come down to the station and fill out a report and—”
“I’m not wasting my time with your stupid paperwork. I have a business to run. I just want this piece of junk removed from my property. Get them boys to remove it. They put the damned thing here.”
The frigid wind bit into the sheriff’s exposed face and the civilian was beginning to piss him off. If he didn’t think the situation was more than a couple of teenagers’ prank, he’d have agreed with the asshole, but in his gut, something didn’t seem right. All he wanted to do was get out of the cold and sort this out in the comfort of the station. “Tom, I can’t arrest anyone. I see nothing more than an old, small, fishing boat. There’s no evidence of foul play or who put this here, correct me if I’m wrong. Once you post a notice, and if no one claims it after thirty days, you can dispose of it anyway you want.”
“Thirty days? Are you shittin’ me, Sheriff? This is an e
yesore. The piece of junk may just find itself a pile of ash. I’m not waitin’ thirty days.”
Irritation over this man grew. Yes, the wreck of a boat could be considered unsightly, but not so much to warrant this behavior. Mikael took in a deep breath and let it out. Maintain control. “You do anything illegal, and I’ll throw the book at you. With the dry condition of the ground cover, you torch this boat and there’s the risk of igniting a firestorm. I suggest you file a notice, wait the time and have it removed responsibly.”
The man grumbled. “So because of a couple punks, I have to spend my time and money to clean up the mess.” Then he stormed back to his truck and drove off, the back tires kicking up loose dirt and gravel.
Mikael stared at Valberg. “What the hell is wrong with him?”
“I don’t know. He’s always grouchy though. So, what do you wanna do, Sheriff?”
“What I’d really like to do—get the frig out of this cold. I don’t think there’s anything more we can do here. No blood, foul play or any evidence other than this was probably a prank.”
“You want me to follow-up with Jack and Carl and see if those boys Tom accused could have something to do with this?”
“Yeah, do that. I don’t think this will go anywhere, but at least we can tell Tom we did our job and he can wait the thirty days to dispose of the boat. C’mon let’s go. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
A half hour later at the station, Mikael settled in behind his metal and faux wood military-issue type desk to complete the weekly reports. Since the normal workday came to an end around four in the afternoon due to the early sunset he thought he might leave early. Claudia, the office manager and dispatcher had taken the afternoon off. Her husband had plans to take her out for a Valentine’s dinner celebration. Before letting her go, Mikael teased and told her she had to stay late to post the reports when he finished. Still chuckling from her joyful reaction, he thought he’d take his own advice and leave too. One advantage to living in a small town and county, the duties as sheriff were minimal. Crime almost didn’t exist. The boat incident this afternoon turned out to be the most exciting event since accepting the position of sheriff.
Five Hearts Anthology Page 4
