Alone at Last... 15 Blush Worthy Stories -- They Never Thought It Would Go So Far... Short Story Off Limits Romance Collection

by Gina Mint

  Turning swiftly, I fled, disappearing into the darkness; looking for a way to escape it all.

  I walked fiercely along the beach, my heart pounding at the rate of a million miles an hour. I'd made a mistake by coming on this stupid trip, I knew it. I should have stayed in New York for spring break. I should have gone to Fire Island with my friend Destiny and her family. I was fairly certain there could be no similar drama going on at her grandmother's house.

  And what if Melinda and Eddie were right? What if I was stuck up? I knew I saw things my own way, and I had a tendency to not yield and go with the flow.

  But I knew what I wanted and what I didn't want. How was that such a bad thing?

  I wiped the tears away, taking a shuddering breath. A figure was emerging from the darkness: a man was walking towards me along the sand. I was glad it was dark, so that the passer-by wouldn't see that I'd been crying.

  As he got nearer, I realized that something about his figure was familiar. The man from earlier in the day, perhaps? The one I'd seen on the porch as we'd played volleyball?

  It was him. As we drew closer together, we met at a point not far from the pier and I could see his face dimly illuminated. A warm flush went through my body as I took him in. He was cute- like really, cute. He had on glasses that I hadn't noticed earlier, and was maybe somewhere around thirty.

  “Hi,” He said stopping a few feet from me. His voice was deep and smooth. Something about it put me instantly at ease. “Are you staying in the pink house? I think I saw you on the beach today.”

  I nodded, pleased to hear that he remembered me. “Yeah. I'm just here for a few days with my friends on spring break.”

  “Ah,” He said, but didn't offer anything more. I got the impression that he wanted to continue talking to me, but wasn't quite sure what to say.

  “I'm Juliana,” I began, sticking my hand out.

  He accepted my offer for a shake, his smooth, firm hand gripping onto mine. A little jolt of electricity went up my arm as soon as our skin touched, and warmth flooded through my body.

  “I'm Eric,” He said, smiling in the dim light. “How do you like the beach?”

  “It's nice.” I hesitated. “I can't say as much for the trip itself.”

  “Why not?”

  I knew I was probably about to share too much- after all, I'd only met the guy a minute ago. But I desperately wanted to spill my guts to someone, and I didn't feel like anyone back at the party would understand.

  “My friends,” I sighed. “Don't understand why I can't just 'relax', as they put it.”

  Eric laughed in response. “Well you are on spring break.”

  I bit my lip. “So that means I'm supposed to get drunk and hook up with disgusting guys?” I asked, unable to disguise my anger.

  A short silence, then: “Wow. That sounds awful. Sorry, Juliana, but your friends sound like they suck.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, maybe they do...”

  I ran my toe in the sand, a cool, frothy wave coming up to nip at it. Now that I had gotten my feelings out, I didn't feel like talking about the issue much anymore. I liked to think I was pretty practical when it came to my emotions: I didn't dwell on drama for any longer than was necessary.

  “Do you live here year-round?” I asked, looking back up at him.

  “Part of the year, actually. I also live in Charleston, but it's more peaceful here. I find it easier to write by the ocean.”

  My ears perked up at his. “What do you write?”

  “Fiction. Mostly historical mysteries.”

  “I'm a history major.”

  “Really?” He asked, the joy evident in his voice.

  “Yeah. Next year is my last at NYU.”

  My eyes had gradually been adjusting to the darkness as we talked, and now I could see the color of his eyes: they were bright blue, sparkling underneath the black-rimmed glasses.

  “What's your favorite period?”

  “I like the Renaissance. Ever written any books about that?”

  “Unfortunately, no. A lot of what I write takes place during war time. Readers like conflict, you know. People can't live without their drama.”

  “Boy, you're telling me,” I muttered. “How do I find your books?”

  “I can give you one right now.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “If you want.”

  “Yeah, I want!” I said, sounding a little too excited. I cleared my throat and made an effort to subdue myself. “Yeah, let's go.”

  He lead the way, pushing up the bank through the sand. We were close to our beach houses: I could see them looming in the darkness ahead and, further away, the flickering of the bonfire. I wondered if any of my friends missed me, but I no longer really cared. I was doing something much better than sitting around on the beach drinking lite beer and shooting the shit. I'd just run into a real-life novelist. Not only that, but a damn fine real-life novelist.

  Eric's patio was dark, but as soon as we walked onto it he lit a few candles that were sitting on a plate in the middle of a wooden table.

  “Have a seat,” He said. “I'll be right back. You want anything?”

  “I'm good, thanks,” I responded, settling into one of the chairs.

  He disappeared behind a sliding glass door that lead into the dark house, and I took a moment to gaze back across the beach. I could still see the bonfire, but now it was a comforting site. I didn't even care that Melinda had been such a bitch.

  In fact, maybe it had been good. Maybe my friend had just shown her true colors and this could be the first step to building a needed division between us.

  I took a deep breath and sighed. It would all work out. Somehow. I wasn't looking forward to going back to the bedroom we were sharing that night, though.

  The door slid open again, and Eric was back, a thick paperback clutched in one hand. He laid it on the table in front of me, and I saw that it was a fresh, never-read copy.

  “Murder in the Gap, by Eric West,” I read out loud, picking it up to look at the cover: a dark tunnel with a silhouetted figure of a man.

  “It's a signed copy too,” He laughed, giving me a wink. “Although, be warned: my novels aren't serious stuff by any means.”

  “I'll cherish it all the same,” I smiled at him. “It's still a real book.”

  He shrugged. “I like writing them. They pay the bills.”

  “So you come here all alone?” I asked, setting the book back down on the table. “You don't bring your wife or kids?”

  I hoped I wasn't being too obvious with my question.

  “No kids,” He answered. “And I've been divorced for a couple years.”

  “Oh. Cool.” Swiftly, I shut my eyes, aware of my blunder. “Sorry. That's not cool. I just say that word a lot. It was an accident.”

  Eric laughed. “Actually, it is cool. Getting divorced was perhaps the best thing that I ever did.”

  I laughed. “Okay, good.”

  “Do you want to talk about what happened with your friends?”

  “How do you know a big 'something' happened?”

  “Well, you were clearly upset when we met, and also, it looks like there's a party going on and you're not at it.”

  “And I told you my friends think I can't relax,” I added, nodding. “Got it. Well... this douche guy named Eddie started hitting on me, and when I rejected him he called me a bitch. We kind of got into a fight, and then Melinda- who I thought was one of my best friends- accused me of being uptight. I guess she thinks I should have just let Eddie have his way. I don't know.” I huffed out a heavy breath and threw my hands into the air.

  “Damn,” Eric said.

  “The best part is that Melinda and I are sharing a room here, so I'm going to have to face her later tonight.”

  “Unless she hooks up with Eddie and doesn't come back.”

  I laughed out loud. “Oh my God, one can only hope!”

  “How long till you go home?”

  �
��We're staying a few days. Although now I'm honestly thinking about buying a bus ticket and just heading back myself. I don't want to be dramatic, but this isn't exactly what I bargained for, you know?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

  He smiled at me then, and the candlelight flickered on the edge of his glasses. My stomach clenched together, and I suddenly felt incredibly nervous. Still, I didn't want the moment to end. Everything was calm and good there, sitting with Eric on his porch and listening to the waves crashing against the shore.

  Laughter from the party boomed across the beach, interrupting the peace.

  “What do you think?” Eric asked. “Should we start our own party and give them a run for their money? I know a DJ. Plus I've got a smoke machine in the basement.”

  “You do not,” I giggled, picking the book back up and absentmindedly running my hands over it.

  “I don't what? Know a DJ, or have a smoke machine?”

  “The latter.”

  “I'll show you if you want.”

  “I'll take your word for it,” I said, giggling all over again. My hand slipped on the paperback and the book fell to the porch floor.

  “Oops,” I said, bending down out of my chair to retrieve it.

  “Let me,” Eric said at the same time. Our hands touched on the book, and he drew his back to let me pick it up. I'd hopped out of the chair, though, and we were now incredibly close. Our shoulders brushed as we both straightened up.

  I could feel the rising in my cheeks as I reached up to nervously mess with the straps of my tank top. Being only inches away from Eric was doing crazy things to my body- it was flushing and pulsating in ways that it never had before.

  It had been a few months since I'd had a boyfriend, but none of the four or five guys I had dated had ever made me feel the way I felt just standing near Eric.

  “Sorry,” He breathed, his entire body as still as a stone.

  “It's all right,” I whispered. “Um, that was nice of you.”

  He nodded slowly, still unmoving, and for a second we just stood there, two awkward people in the middle of a dimly lit porch.

  Eric cleared his throat and looked down. I wasn't sure what to do. Was it maybe time for me to leave? God knows I didn't want to.

  “I guess I'll go,” I said slowly.

  He looked up. “No. I mean, only if you want. I don't want to push you away, you know... You can stay for as long as you like.”

  Eric's fumbling made me giggle all over again.

  “What?” He grinned.

  “Your awkward stuttering is cute,” I responded.

  “I'm only stuttering because you're so irresistible,” He said, in a swift comment that sucked all the air out of my body.

  I blinked hard, teetering on my bare toes. I'd pegged Eric as shy and not outgoing and all, but then he'd gone and floored me with that last comment.

  “You don't have to go,” He repeated as he took a small step towards me.

  I lowered my hands, setting the book back on the table, and tilted my face up to his. “I don't?”

  Slowly, he shook his head. “But I won't force you to stay.”

  “The only thing you'd have to force me to do would be to go,” I whispered. His face was mere inches from mine, and the scent of his spicy cologne filled my mouth. I could see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard, and I wondered what his skin tasted like.

  Slowly, I reached out- my heart pounding the entire time- and let my hand graze against his. In response, his body shifted forward slightly. I raised my face even more to his, and a second later and his lips were ever so slowly pressing against mine. The movement was incremental- the kiss as slow as a glacier. I held my breath the entire time, not quite able to believe what was happening.

  I finally exhaled, my breath sweeping over him, and he lifted a hand to let a finger trail down my cheek. A slight breeze came onto the porch, ruffling my hair and nipping my bare shoulders.

  Eric's kiss slowly became more and more powerful, picking up force with each passing minute. I don't know how long we just stood there and kissed, but it was long enough for the rest of the world to swirl around me and cease to even matter anymore.

  Slowly, he broke off the kiss and pressed his forehead against mine. I took in a shaky breath, attempting to quell the urges that were racking my body.

  “You taste delicious,” He whispered, the gritty tone of his voice making me shake all over. Gone was demure, lone writer Eric: in his place was someone entirely different.

  “I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I responded.

  He licked his lips, his breathe coming out fast and hot against my chin and neck. “Do you want to come inside?”

  “Yes,” I answered, not skipping a beat.

  And then, before I had a chance to even move, Eric picked me up and pulled me against his chest. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed my lips into his once more. The new batch of kisses was hot and hungry, driven by the urge that was swiftly rising between my legs.

  I felt Eric walk backwards, moving us towards the sliding door. I heard the door open, but saw nothing, so busy was I with his lips and tongue.

  We moved through the darkness, bumping first into some sort of table before landing on a couch. I laughed as I bounced against his chest, and he reached up to run his hands over the small of my back. I could sense the fire in his own body- it seemed as if our singular heats were reaching out and melding us together. I fit perfectly on his chest; between his arms, and when he nuzzled his face into my neck there was nowhere else in the world that I wanted to be.

  We began kissing again, and his hands were moving to the sides of my hips, running back and forth. I spread my hands on his chest; found the buttons of his shirt, and began to slowly undo them. He pressed his hips into mine and a quick and sharp moan escaped my mouth. I could feel the hard bulge underneath his pants, straining to get out, and just the thought of it made an instant wave of wetness gush out of me.

  Moving quickly once more, Eric grabbed onto my hips and flipped me over onto the couch cushions. I gazed up at the broad figure, silhouetted in the darkness, and grinned. What bonfire? Fuck the bonfire.

  Eric began working his fingers on the button on my shorts, then slowly and tantalizingly undid the zip. I held my breath the entire time, my legs shaking and my hips spreading of their own accord. My heart was beating away so fast that it seemed to be the only thing I could hear- even the breaking of the waves on the nearby shore had faded away.

  Fluidly, he slid the shorts off and dropped them onto the floor. A thumb brushed gingerly across my clit and I let out a moan- this one low and long.

  Going off of my positive reaction, he pushed his thumb hard against the swollen nub, and my body responded by becoming pure jelly. I collapsed my head and arms against the cushions and closed my eyes, letting myself be carried away by the delicious sensation.