“Garrett . . . I’m not sure I’m ready.”
He ran a finger down her cheek. “That’s my job, sweetheart, to get you ready. Hey,” he said, serious now, his eyes focused solely and intently on hers, “if it doesn’t happen tonight for whatever reason, that’s okay. But let’s not let it screw this up. We’ve got more than high passion going for us here—we can fuck anytime. But we can’t have our first time again—so it has to be special, no anxiety, no regrets. I want you, don’t ever doubt that, but you also have to want me, for this to work.”
“That’s just it, I do want you. But I’m afraid of the chase ending if we do this too soon.”
“Trust me babe, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Whether we do this thing tonight or not, I’m coming back for more. How about we take the pressure off and I leave these here?” He took two foil packets out of his pants pocket and placed them on the console between them.
She looked down at them, then back up at him. “No, we’d better take them. Life has a strange way of turning out for people who don’t plan ahead.” She smiled and kissed him quickly on the lips. “But you know . . . if we use one of these you have to bring it back here.”
His left brow arched in question, “And that would be because . . .”
“Like plastic trash bags, turtles think condoms and balloons are its favorite food. It’s not pretty what happens when they get in their digestive system. Two-hundred-year-old turtles that have survived countless hurricanes, Asians trying to grind them up for aphrodisiacs, and merchants offering insane amounts of money to make combs, brushes and barrettes, often succumb from mistaking a plastic bag for a jellyfish.”
“Well then, should I have the opportunity to don one, or both of these,” he said as he replaced them in his pocket, “I promise to dispose of them properly.” He picked up her hand and softly kissed each knuckle, then he sucked her baby finger into his mouth and smiled around it when she gasped. He slowly brought his head up so that her finger slid away from his mouth in achingly unhurried increments. “That is, should the opportunity arise.”
He stayed long enough to see her eyes glaze over before opening his door and coming around to get hers. With a blanket draped over his arm and a bottle of water in his hand, he helped her down from the truck.
“Do you have one for me?” she asked as she saw the water bottle.
“Sweetheart, we may not fuck, but we are definitely going to share some spit. I think we can share the water bottle.”
“Are you always so—”
“Yes.”
Chapter Fifty
Garrett took Laurel’s hand and led her down the boardwalk to the beach. There was no one in sight, not on the long access over the dunes, not on the wide stretch of beach. They kicked off their sandals at the dune line then strolled, lost in their thoughts as they watched the waves crashing on the shore. Out in the distance there was a cruise ship from one of the casinos moving along the horizon. It was a beautiful night, the stars shining bright against an
inky sky.
As they headed toward Bird Island he asked, “Did you know that there was a shipwreck on the coast in 1664, 1785, and again in 1860, where there was only one survivor?”
“Well that wasn’t all that unusual back then was it?”
“The interesting thing, was that in each incidence, the sole survivor was named Hugh Williams.”
“Really? What an odd coincidence,” she said.
“And what have we learned from this?”
“Don’t get on a ship with a man named Hugh Williams?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, precisely right. Most people say don’t get on a ship if you’re Hugh Williams.”
“Is that a true story?”
“So I’ve read. I like to study shipwrecks. It’s especially fascinating to study the ones around the lower Keys.”
“Do you dive?”
“I have, but not for some time. I don’t seem to have time for hobbies like I used to. Other than gardening, what are your hobbies, what do you like to do with your free time? You don’t work do you?” He made an attempt to get her to open up about her writing.
“No, I don’t have a job anymore. I just play golf, cook, and ride my bike. And lately, I’ve been doing a lot of volunteering.”
So we’re not there yet. She’s not ready to share that part of her life. He took another stab at it. “I would have more time for things like diving and scuba if I quit teaching, there’s so much reading and writing with that—it takes a lot of time.”
“Yeah, it must. But surely you enjoy it, shaping young, questing minds.”
He snorted and thought of the student he’d emailed a few days ago, the one using a picture of herself in a provocative bikini as her signature line. “So far this semester I’ve had three female students offer to send me topless pictures of themselves, so they’re questing all right. But their quest has nothing to do with learning the material I assign. They want the grades but don’t want to work for them.”
“How do you handle that?”
“I decline of course,” he said with a wicked grin. Using their connected hands, he pulled her close. There was just enough moonlight coming off the water to light up her face. God she was lovely.
“I don’t want to see their breasts. I just want to see yours.”
Her eyes flashed with interest, but there was also a hint of fear in them. “C’mon, you’ve teased me all night. Show me this sexy bra you picked out to wear for me.”
He touched his lips to hers then dropped the blanket and bottle in the sand so he could wrap his arms around her. His hands slid up her back, stroking her lightly until his fingertips grazed the nape of her neck and sprang the latch on her barrette, letting her hair billow free. He tucked the fancy clip into her front pocket then dug his fingers into the flying tresses. He held her head with both hands as he kissed her, massaging her lips with his. The raging need he’d been fighting all night took hold and he deepened the kiss.
She tasted the tang of lemon on his tongue from the jellybeans he’d been sucking. She used her tongue to savor it, mating it with his while he lit little fires in her with his hands, his lips, and his low groans.
She put her hands against his chest and pushed away until they were forced to separate. He looked down at her questioningly.
She crossed her hands at her waist and whipped off her top.
He had known what he’d see, but he was not prepared for the effect. This was hot. Unbelievably hot. It devastated him. This was so much more arousing than if she’d been completely topless. The way her ample breasts were squeezed through the tight openings, the way it made her jut out, the way her nipples were displayed, it bordered on vulgar—it was tits on a shelf and he loved it. His groan was carried on the wind, and he had to blink wide to keep taking her in. Her pink tipped nipples were drawing tight from the breeze, the aureoles plumping from his heated gaze. The smooth, even texture of her skin a delight to behold in the pale cool light.
“Jesus, Laurel. Your breasts are amazing. So beautiful.” His hands cupped her, hefted her, kneaded and squeezed her. Testing the firmness, trying to collect them in his hands, he was overwhelmed with the need to satisfy the primal instincts welling in him. He’d never had a particular fondness for pushing a woman’s breasts together to make a valley between to slake himself there, but damned if he didn’t want to do it to Laurel. He wanted to kiss each nipple with the tip of his creaming penis—instead, he took her with his lips, closed them around the hard buds and sucked. She heaved a heartfelt sigh as if she’d been holding it in for years, and let her head fall back exposing her throat. The moonlight shone on her long neck and her lightly sun-freckled chest.
As he moved from one breast to the other and back again, he whispered, “Where did you get t
his little bit of confection?” he snapped the elastic of the bra.
“From Roman,” she breathed.
He abruptly stopped the attention he was lavishing on her and stepped back. “What?”
“His and Tessa’s idea actually. Some kind of bet they had with Philip.”
He brought his hand up to cup her chin and his thumbs grazed over her lips. “Expound please.”
“I told her about the four-date thing. She told Roman. Roman thought it’d be fun to tempt you beyond bearing. This is what he came up with.”
He looked down at her and his hand followed his eyes to thumb at both of her nipples. “While I appreciate his efforts on my behalf, I’d rather our ‘courtship,’ for lack of another word, be solo. What we do, what we say, be ours, and ours alone.” His voice lowered, “There are things I plan on doing to you, that I don’t want anyone else to know about. Things I don’t want shared. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Well they do have this bet . . .”
“What?”
“Roman bet Philip that we’d do the deed tonight.” She motioned to the bra, circling her fingers, “This was supposed to put the odds in his favor.”
“Oh it did. It most certainly did.” He pinched her nipple—hard. Then the other. And back again. “It did.” He took a long nipple between each thumb and forefinger and tugged her toward him.
“Let’s open up that blanket. Then later, you can get me Roman’s address. I think I know how I want to dispose of the condoms I’m going to use tonight.”
He released her long enough to flutter the blanket in the air and settle it on the sand. He pulled her down with him, and rolled her onto her back. Hovering over her, he stroked her neck and snapped the strap on her shoulder. “Let’s leave this little marvel on, but everything else has to go. I want to look at you. Then I want to lick, suck, and kiss every single inch of your body. When you’re ready, really ready, I want you to invite me inside you.” He took her lips and crushed them under his.
His hands moved to her waistband and before she had time to think, he was lifting her and pulling her capris down her legs, and over her ankles and bare feet. “Nice panties, did Roman pick these out, too?” he fingered the elastic lace waistband of her boyshort panties.
She could tell by his tone that he wasn’t pleased with the idea of Roman selecting her lingerie. The idea that he could be jealous warmed her. She wanted him to be possessive. Needed him to be possessive. It was the kind of emotion that fueled her fantasies and drove her wild. God, to be owned by this man she thought, as his lips lavished kisses on her breasts, belly and throat.
She shook her head no.
He was gentle and thorough. Not one inch was spared his attention as he exposed flesh, ran tantalizing fingers up and down her legs, her thighs, her torso. When the tiny scrap covering her mons was pulled down to mid-thigh, she sobbed at the overwhelming sensation created by being displayed for him, framed for him, in the crosshairs of moonlight. She could hardly stand to look at his face as his penetrating gaze drank her in as if memorizing her. She was hotly embarrassed as he carefully inspected her, examined secret folds, and toyed with tight curls. He was so openly gazing, his eyes avidly lingering that she finally realized with shock, that he was purposely building an element of shame in her. She moaned with her desire, and felt the floodgates open, coating her. When he removed her panties, tossed them aside, drew her knees up high and parted them wide, she sobbed. Placing her feet in the sand, as wide as they would go, he tucked his head between her legs and took in the view while his fingers probed at her.
“I wish there was a full moon. I’d love to see more of your sweet pussy than this light allows. I suppose, I’ll just have to get to know you by using one of my other senses.” He ducked his head and his lips kissed all around her mons as he told her how much he appreciated her bikini wax. His thumbs pulled her labia lips apart and he kissed her heated, slick flesh. She moaned and cried out his name.
Her hands clasped his head holding him to her. He reached up and untangled her fingers from his hair and repositioned her hands. Silently, he admonished her with his heated gaze and lifted brow. He tucked her hands flat, under her hips so that he used them to his advantage and lifted her higher. She sobbed her pleasure as she realized he was using her to make herself more vulnerable, more exposed.
She felt herself flooding again and he moaned enthusiastically, his mouth devouring her. His tongue came into play next, licking and lapping at her tender, plumping lips and running up and down her velvety slit, stopping intermittently to thrust at her opening. She was sobbing now and clutching her hands into the blanket under her bottom.
He drilled her with the tip of his skilled tongue, twisting it inside her and then using the flat to oscillate like a vibrator. She screamed his name.
“What? Is there something you want? Something I’m not giving you?” he asked, and the huskiness of his voice was enough to thoroughly wet her again.
“Yes,” she panted.
“Well, what is it?” he asked, feigning the voice of patience. “Tell me.”
“There, I need you there.”
“Where? Here?” he asked as he kissed her opening.
“Higher,” she moaned.
“Here?” he sucked on a labial lip.
“Aarrgh!”
“Maybe here?” He latched onto her straining clit and sucked. Every nerve went white hot as she fractured and screamed out her release. Pulsing and throbbing against his tongue he milked her contracting nub with his firm lips as tremor after tremor went through her. She sobbed as she flailed her head from side to side, “Oh, Garrett, Garrett, Garrett . . . Oh God.”
Her use of his name at the height of her passion caused a raging tide of need to surge through him.
With a final sucking kiss, he released her and climbed up her body to see her face. Her dazed expression and limpid eyes warmed his soul. Leaning on one elbow, he shoved two fingers inside her and began thrusting, assuring that the heel of his hand met her clit full on, tight to her mons, with each pass. She groaned and arched to meet him. He pulsed his hand against her, using a fast paced rhythm to reawaken her nerve endings. “Am I invited inside?” He buried his face in her breasts and rooted for a nipple. Finding one, he tugged at it with the edges of his teeth.
“Yes! God yes!”
“Say it.”
“I invite you. Come inside me, please.”
“Be crude, you know what I want to hear. And use my name.”
“Fuck me, Garrett. Please, please fuck me!”
“Again,” he insisted as he pummeled her with his hand, shoving his fingers up inside her.
“Fuck me! Garrett . . . aaah, please, please . . .” her voice trailed off to a whimper, “please, fuck me.”
He lifted off her, leaving her heaving her hips pulsing the air, while he undid his belt and whipped it out of the loops. He unzipped and pulled his pants down past his hips then fished for a condom. Using his teeth he tore the packet, spit it aside and with one hand rolled the condom down his thick, heavy erection. Using his belt, strapped across her midsection, he pinned her down. Fists at her hips, wrapped tightly around the belt, he held her still, kept her immobile for him. He wanted to hit her clit like a jackhammer.
He positioned himself and sank into her, stretching her and filling her completely. She cried out her pleasure and moaned. He took a moment to savor their joining, to absorb the wonder of being inside this incredibly beautiful woman. Then he began fucking her, hard and fast. The pace punishing.
“Oh God, oh God, please don’t stop. Don’t stop!”
“Not until you get there,” he said between clenched teeth, reassuring her. “Not until you give me what’s mine. Give it to me, baby,” he coaxed. And she did.
Sobbing his name and calling to h
er God, she keened and trembled inside and out, her release flooding her and sending arcing white sparks jangling through every nerve. She saw prisms of light flash on the insides of her lids as she careened out of her body and floated on a rolling wave of pleasure.
Her vagina, clenching like a fist around him, sent him over the edge as he gritted his teeth and threw back his head. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Ahhh,” he hissed as his release washed through him and took his breath from him. He rode out on a tsunami of bliss before returning to his senses and collapsing with his face against her neck. He sighed her name and breathed in her floral fragrance. He kissed behind her ear, the hollow of her throat, her sternum . . . the tips of her breasts.
When she could manage it, she whispered, “Thank you. That was amazing.” She idly stroked his back through his shirt, feeling his rippling muscles relax.
“Hmmmm . . . the pleasure was all mine.”
“I think not.”
“Why Miss Laurel, are you telling me you had a good time on your fourth date?”
“That is an gross understatement. I had the best time. I can’t get over how you knew exactly how to . . . well everything.”
“I aim to please.”
“I have never experienced anything like that. Didn’t even know I was capable of multiple orgasms. I’ve dreamed about climaxing like that,” she shook her head, “never thought I could though . . .”
“Well, let’s see if we can make all your dreams come true,” he said as he thrust into her again. He was still hard, hard enough to go again.
They heard a dog bark in the distance, and then voices being carried on the wind before he was able to make the next thrust. They both looked over and panicked. About three hundred yards away, they could faintly make out a man and a woman walking a dog in the gray mist by the water.
Flash Drive Page 39
