by Frankie Love
“Don’t beat yourself up over Blaine,” I insisted. “He was a douchebag and a money grabber, and he would have kept taking advantage of you.”
“Except he got tired of me first,” she said, her bottom lip pouting.
“Okay, sure he broke up with you, but it’s not about you. It’s about him.” I believed that. Blaine had been a total ass-hat. I was glad he’d broken up with her, because she needed a real man.
As did I.
Well, not necessarily a real man so much as a night of passion—something that would create a spark. Something to make me to get excited about life again. Life, or love—or both.
We shared two bottles of Merlot over dinner. The deep red wine took the edge off the group dynamics.
I had met Courtney in college when we were in a class together, and she had introduced me to Callie. But things between us had changed since we graduated college, and the stress of real life had affected us a bit differently.
“What are you doing?” Callie asked, as she popped open a third bottle.
“I wanted to check out the sauna,” Courtney said, not extending an invite.
“Well, I want to stay here and get shitfaced; do you mind if I stay back?” I asked.
“No, no, not at all. I actually wouldn’t mind some down time,” Court said, holding up a black bikini in one hand and a neon pink one-piece in the other. “Which one you think?”
“Umm, the sauna and tubs are clothing optional,” I said, cracking a smile.
“Well, yeah, I read that online, but I’m wearing a swimsuit.”
“Okay,” I answered slowly.
“What, is that weird or something?” Court pursed her lips, looking uncomfortable.
“No, I just don’t think anyone wears them. If you insist, I’d go with the two piece. Stop hiding your curves.”
“Definitely the two piece,” Callie chimed in. “You’re in the best shape of your life.”
“Okay, I’ll just change then. Carry on,” she said, waving her hands toward our wine glasses and slipping in the bathroom.
A little while later Courtney left, and Callie began cleaning the kitchen. Sleepiness crept up on me fast, and I stifled a yawn.
“Do you mind if I take a bath?” Callie asked.
“No,” I said with my eyes half-closed.
“Get in bed, sleepy head,” she told me. “And thanks.”
“For what?”
“For being a friend, even when I make that hard.”
“Anytime, Mom.”
“Don’t say that,” she said, grabbing her toiletries bag. “I want to loosen up. I just don’t know how.”
“Do you ever watch porn? That loosens me up plenty,” I said, jokingly. I’d never had a real interest in watching videos. I wanted the real thing. Something visceral. Something alive, or nothing at all.
“Oh, shut up,” she yelled playfully as she shut the bathroom door.
“You know I love you,” I shouted, before crashing into bed.
I woke up in a pitch-dark cabin to the sound of my two friends snoring away. Looking at my phone, I saw it was two in the morning. Sitting up, I scrolled through my phone quickly before setting it back down. It was worthless here without Wi-Fi or 4G.
Knowing I wouldn’t fall back asleep, I quietly slipped on my booties and wrapped a chunky orange scarf around my neck. I pulled on an oversized, loose-knit cardigan that hit my knees.
Going into the kitchen, I poured a few inches of whiskey in a ceramic mug and headed outside, knowing the amber liquid would keep me warm.
The night air was cool, and as I walked toward the water’s edge my breath caught at the swollen moon hanging above me. It reflected over the still, dark water and lit the shore with its magic.
I had always been wooed by the moon, by the constant changing she underwent each month. Yet she always came back to where she started. She was grounded in her cycle, yet fluid in her daily transformation.
I wanted to be more like her.
I wanted to be a consistent chaos, a steadily shifting enigma. I wanted to be something I couldn’t quite figure out.
Walking to the edge of the water, I sipped my smooth beverage, inhaling the smell of the salty sea.
“Hey,” a voice called out.
I jumped, startled for the second time today when I thought I was alone.
Turning, I saw the bright-faced guy from the lobby sitting on a log. He had a welcoming smile, and my eyes lifted, taking in the coincidence.
Maybe I’d woken up for a reason, after all.
“Wanna sit?” he asked, patting the spot next to him.
“Yeah,” I said, sitting down. “I’m Willow.”
“I’m Ashton,” he said, offering me his hand to shake. “What are you doing out so late?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” I sighed, touching my hair, wishing I’d tucked the tangled mess of black locks under the safety of a beanie.
“Yeah, me either.”
His hand rested next to mine on the log, and I instinctively wanted to reach for it. I wanted to hold him close. He was a stranger, but the night felt special.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
I laughed, caught off guard by his direct approach. “Thanks?”
“You really are. Sorry if saying that is weird, but I saw you in the lobby earlier, and couldn’t stop talking to my friends about how gorgeous you were.”
“Well, thank you. I actually thought the same thing about you,” I admitted. I didn’t tell him I had also thought a few more things about him. Namely where he could put his hands.
“Oh, you told your friends I was beautiful?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t tell my friends anything.” I blushed under his stare. His eyes were intoxicating.
“So you want to keep this a secret?”
“What a secret?” I whispered.
“This.” His hands held my cheeks, his fingers brushed against my ears, and then he kissed my lips.
It was so unexpected, such a lovely surprise, that I exhaled, knowing it sounded more like a moan. But I didn’t care. His mouth was soft and firm, his hands wrapped around the back of my head as he steadied me. I sank into the moment.
His tongue found mine and we gently explored the sensation of the collision. It was earnest and intoxicating. Warmth spread through me as we pulled away to catch our breath. He leaned in again, for a small kiss. Then again, and again, as if he couldn’t help himself.
He was confident in a humble way, not desperate and grabby like other guys.
Leaning into him, I let him know that I wanted this to happen. There was a playful quality to our kisses and when his hands found their way under my sweater, and then inched up the hem of my cami, I let his fingers tickle my skin.
A small giggle escaped my lips and I pulled back for a moment, surprised at how quickly my skin warmed up to him, the heat inside rising.
“Come here,” he whispered, pulling me closer. He was straddling the log now, but I wanted to straddle him. I wrapped my hands around his neck and scooted closer. He lifted my ass so I sat on his thighs.
I felt his hard cock under me, and it got me excited. Ashton moved his hands under my shirt, and I encouraged him by bringing his hands around to my breasts. He caressed them as I shimmied against his hardness, imagining our clothes off and me riding him properly.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured against my neck. He tore off my scarf, and then planted kisses all the way down to my chest. My breasts were more visible now, no longer hidden under the chunky cowl. He lowered his face into them. They were large and full, and as he kissed the tops of them, massaging the skin with his supple hands, I had a sudden and never-before-felt urge for him to titty-fuck me with his cock.
I lifted his shirt and felt the ripple of muscles underneath.
“You’re so strong,” I said in his ear, nibbling the lobe.
“I want all of you,” he answered. I moaned at his words, and also because the place his hand travelled now was
exactly where I wanted it. The waistband of my leggings was elastic, and made it easy for his fingers to find my pussy. Especially since I wasn’t wearing any panties.
“You’re so wet,” he said, looking me in the eyes. His bright green eyes flickered with life. I liked how he didn’t shy away from the truth, from the moment. He was in it, with me.
As his fingers pressed between my thighs, I knew I needed to get my pants off, and his pants off, too.
“I want you to fuck me,” I said boldly. Maybe this was what I needed, when I talked about adventure, about feeling alive. I needed to have sex under the moon, on a possibly uncomfortable rocky shore.
“Good, because I want to fuck you, too,” he said, his voice impish.
We stood, and slipped off our shoes and pants. As he took his boxers off, I bit my lip greedily. Fuck, he was well-hung. His cock was hard and thick, and I knew it was the kind of cock that would make me come quickly. Come like I needed to. Come like I hadn’t in so long.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said pulling me to him. His hands moved under my long sweater and caressed my bare ass. He kissed me again, this time more energy coursing between us as heat spread through our lips.
He sat on the log, and I straddled him again. We were both hot and excited, but it was still freezing outside. This wasn’t the time for long, consuming lovemaking. This was the time for a hard, fast fuck.
“I want you so bad,” I moaned as he reached down for a condom in his pants pocket. He slid the Magnum on and I watched in anticipation, my pussy so wet and ready for his cock to come inside me.
“Oh yeah,” he said, easing me on top of him again. We both knew what we were doing, which made it the best kind of sex. I arched my back up high and began to ride him as he thrust up and in, knowing the way to hit my g-spot nice and good.
My legs were behind him, and his hands reached for my ass, squeezing tight.
“Oh, yeah, Willow, that’s fucking good.”
He was right, it was fucking good. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been filled so completely.
“You’re going to make me come,” he said, moving hard. I liked it; I was coming too.
Grabbing a fistful of his wavy brown hair, I whimpered in ecstasy. Fuck, it was a good release.
I let out a laugh as we both slowed, and he looked at me, a sly smile across his face.
“Funny, huh?” he asked.
“More like crazy, because that was no fucking joke. I promise you that.”
I got off of him and sat on the log, inching my feet back into my leggings, then my shoes. He put on his jeans and boots, too, a spirited quiet filling the air.
Once dressed, we turned to face one another. I couldn’t believe I’d just done that—but also, I absolutely could. That was what I had been needing: some uninhibited sex with a stranger.
“So,” I whispered, leaning toward him, a smile playing on my lips. Our noses touched, our breaths intertwined.
He looked up to the sky, and my eyes followed his to the sultry moon above. “Gorgeous out, and tomorrow it’s supposed to be even more full.”
“It’s like we should howl or something.” I said, not caring if he thought I sounded weird. I had the urge to stand and let my lungs loose, to thank the moon for this night.
“We should.”
“Really?” I asked, giving him a smirk. “You’re a howler?”
“Oh, I’m all sorts of things.” He jumped up on the log, his snug jeans teasing me as he moved. He cupped his hand around his mouth and howled like a lost wolf—or maybe like a man alive. “Come on, it was your idea!” he teased.
He was right, of course. I took the hand he offered as I stepped onto the log.
It wobbled, and I started to lose my balance. “Shit!” I cried, regaining my footing.
“I gotcha,” he said, and instinctively balanced me at the waist. His hands were warm against my clothes, and I wished they were against my skin once more.
“Thanks,” I said, slightly embarrassed.
“Now howl!” he ordered.
I raised my chin and I let out a howl. Well, maybe more like a whimper, because he egged me on, saying I could do better than that.
He was right. I cupped my mouth like he had done, and I howled—loud and clear and fierce. I thanked the moon with a cry, and then on second thought, asked the moon for direction with a howl. I hoped she would answer.
“What the hell’s going on?” Another voice came from behind us, but this time I didn’t jump. I’d had enough jumpiness for one day. I turned to see the tattooed guy from earlier, and I couldn’t resist a smile.
“Oh, just your everyday sort of howling. No biggie.” Ashton smiled at me conspiratorially.
“It’s like she was begging for it,” I added, pointing up to the sky.
“Begging, huh?” the tattooed guy asked. “I didn’t know the moon could beg.”
“Oh, she can do all sorts of things,” I continued. “She’s magic.”
“And you?” he asked. “Are you magic?”
“I think she is,” Ashton answered for me. “What kind of girl walks alone at night with a mug of whiskey to talk to the moon?”
“The kind of girl I’d like to meet.” The tattooed guy lit a joint and took a puff. “I’m Jude, by the way.” He offered it to me. I took a few hits before handing it off to Ashton.
“I’m Willow.”
“You’re the girl from the lobby,” Jude said. “The one we’ve been talking about all night.”
“All of you?” I said, suddenly feeling like I was under inspection. I gave Ashton a long look, but he shook his head in denial.
“No, not all of us. Just the two of us,” Ashton explained. “Our friends have other things on their minds.”
“And you, what do you have on your mind?” I asked, as I passed Jude the tail end of the joint, knowing exactly what I had on my mind.
“I have too much on my mind,” Jude said.
“I hear you,” I said.
“Why’d you come out here, anyway?” Ashton asked Jude.
“Oh, right—fuck, I almost forgot. Liam wanted us to get some firewood out by the general store. The fire’s almost out.”
“Fuck,” Ashton said. “I spent hours on that beast this afternoon. We should do that now, or the cabin’s going to be freezing in a few hours.”
“Agreed.”
“Okay, I’ll see you guys around, then,” I said, my eyes meeting Ashton’s, wondering why he had fucked me like that only to leave me wanting more.
“I can walk you back,” Jude offered. “You shouldn’t walk alone.”
“Good call,” Ashton said. “I’ll see you at the cabin then. Bye, Willow.”
Surprised by Ashton’s sudden departure, I turned to Jude. “Shall we?”
He gave me a nod, and I pointed out the trail my cabin was on.
Chapter Seventeen
“Have you ever been to this resort?” Jude asked as we walked.
“No, but I’ve wanted to for a while. I like how mellow it is this time of year.”
Mellow, except for the late-night sex on the beach. When I’d decided to come here, I’d had no idea I was going to become a cocktail.
“Have you been here before?”
“Yeah, we come a bunch of times throughout the year. My friend works here full-time. I wouldn’t mind a gig like that.”
“I get what you mean. I live in the city and it can be a grind.”
“Yeah, I’m into the idea of the Walden Commune shit, you know? Even if it is naive. But life is fragile, and I want to surround myself with beauty, saturate myself with nature’s grandeur while I can.”
“That’s so poetic,” I say, impressed. “You should be a writer.”
“I am, actually.”
“Oh, well, there ya go,” I said, laughing softly.
“And you? What are you Willow?”
“I’m….” I paused, literally and figuratively. On the dark trail, where I could just barely make out
the rough eyes of this man’s face, I stopped and decided to be honest. “I’m floundering.”
“And you don’t like that?” he asked, leaning closer.
“No, I don’t. It’s scary. Not knowing what I should be, or where I should be. Or what I want to be.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong,” he said slowly, shaking his head. “The thrashing is where the beauty lies.”
The air between us shifted, and he leaned toward my mouth and kissed me hard before I could think of pulling away.
It was the kind of kiss that could knock me to the ground.
The kind of kiss that was wild and untamed.
The kind of kiss that matched his words and face and soul.
The kind of kiss I understood.
I pulled back, panting. I brushed my fingers against my blissfully bruised lips.
“Are you okay?” he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
I nodded, unable to speak. Shit. I had fucked Ashton and then I’d kissed Jude, and wasn’t there some sort of guy-code against that? Not that either of them knew that I had done anything with the other one.
Not looking up at Jude, I started walking on the trail again, not trusting myself to stand there next to him. That one kiss had undone me, in a different way than Ashton’s had.
It wouldn’t be fair to the guys for me to muddle the lines this way. Jude kept up with my pace, and didn’t say any more.
He knew what kind of kiss we’d just had. But I knew what kind of kiss I’d had with Ashton. Well, not exactly a kiss.
Fuck.
At the door of my cabin I turned to him. “Thank you.” I didn’t clarify if the thank you was for the walk or for the words or for all of it. I didn’t need to.
“You’re welcome, Willow.” And then he simply walked away.
I collapsed into bed, knowing I wouldn’t be getting the sort of sleep I needed for the next day’s hike, but also knowing my mind was going a million miles a minute.
What had I just done?
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Courtney, Callie, and I went to the resort cafe for breakfast. We must have all been craving sweets, because the entire table ordered the challah bread French toast. We were quiet as we drizzled fresh maple syrup over the thick bread, and decadently added cream to our dark roast coffee.
