by Regina Wade
“Chia seeds are full of omega threes and sixes. They’re almost all fiber, and they’re super versatile. I’ll make you a smoothie.”
Ok, so he’s clearly a sociopath, but I think I’ve come to terms with it. I can forgive a lot of sins for that six-pack.
Sebastian’s laugh is like the rest of him; big, relaxed, and easy. Comfortable, somehow.
“How can I help?” I motion towards the kitchen, where he’s busy assembling ingredients on his compact counter space, but Seb just shakes his head.
“You had a rough night, red. Let me take care of breakfast. Besides, there’s not much room in here, unless you want to hop up on the counter?”
He pats the butcher block in front of him with a playful raise of his brow. His tone is teasing, but there’s a distinct invitation behind his blue eyes.
Too many puns about rough nights and the things I want to hop on flash through my mind at once.
In the end, I call my own bluff.
Instead of replying, I resume my self-guided tour of his living room wall. Behind me, I hear the sizzle of something hitting a pan. Despite my reservations at his list of health food finds, it smells delicious.
It’s not the only thing. The whole house is filled with the scent of Sebastian. Saltwater and soap, zinc and sunshine. It permeates the air, settles along my skin like cologne.
I hope it never washes off.
“You’re in the coast guard?” I point at a framed picture of Sebastian in uniform. The woman at his side has a short blonde pixie cut and the cheekbones to pull it off.
“Was.” Seb pauses, his knife slicing through something along the butcher board with surgical precision. “I was a rescue diver for eight years. Tore my labrum a few months ago and—”
He shrugs, the movement casual.
“I came home. My mom and sister don't live far from here. That’s Nat in my graduation picture.”
There’s a rush of unabashed relief at the realization that the blonde in the picture is his sister.
“What about you?” Sebastian asks as I move on to inspect a small surfing trophy sitting atop a Jimmy Buffet album sleeve.
“What about me? I’ve never been in the coast guard. Not much for seamen.”
My internal cringe-o-meter threatens to explode.
What the actual fuckity fuck, Aster?!
Seb bursts into laughter again.
If only he knew that I wasn’t kidding. I’ve never been near any seamen— in uniform or otherwise. Not that I hadn’t had plenty of opportunities to lose my virginity over the years. But I’ve been a little busy prioritizing the important things.
Now here I am, about to ride out the apocalypse and lose it with my cherry firmly in place.
Lame.
“I’m a junior at Texas A&M.” I head back towards the kitchen island as Seb sets plates down. “Veterinary medicine.”
“Ah,” he says as he settles in next to me. As if I’d somehow explained everything. “Spring break in LA, huh?”
I nod, looking down at an admittedly beautiful plate of eggs and I have no idea what else.
“I didn’t even want to come.” It feels good to admit, finally. Cathartic to say out loud for the first time since this whole thing began. “My friends insisted that I needed it. All I ever do is work and study. They swore it would be a good time. The perfect getaway.”
The perfect opportunity to lose my virginity.
“And then they bailed on you?” Sebastian pauses, his fork raised.
The embarrassment threatens to burn up my face again. I shake my head, try to explain.
“We’d just gotten here when the lockdown went into effect. Everyone else in our group has a family— parents, or someone, you know? Anyway.” I stop to take a sip of water, not sure what to make of the way Seb is looking at me.
“There was a rush of confusion. Everyone got in the rental cars and went back to their air b&bs and hotels. My bag was in the back of Lauren’s car. With all my stuff. So—” I contemplate my coffee mug as if the answer to this whole mess might be somewhere in its black depths.
“You’ll stay here.” Seb’s voice is quiet, more serious than I’ve heard it since I crawled out from under his porch like a crustacean.
“What? No, Sebastian, I can’t possibly intrude like that. We don’t even know how long this lockdown will last. I’ll find some way to get ahold of—”
“No. You won’t.” His smile is back, but it’s only because there’s a steely undertone of finality to his voice. As if he knows my pussy and I are physically incapable of arguing with that tone.
“Aster,” he goes on smoothly. “Your friends left you on the beach overnight. You’ll stay here with me until this is over, or until it’s safe to travel again. Now finish your breakfast, and I’ll get you some dry clothes so you can take a hot shower. Can’t have you catching pneumonia.”
He says it like it’s already decided, just because he said it. I might kill him before this quarantine is over.
Or worse, sleep with him.
3
Sebastian
You know it’s gonna make it that much better… When we can say goodnight and stay together. — The Beach Boys, ‘Wouldn’t it be Nice’
The sound of the shower running sends my imagination reeling.
All I can think about is every inch of Aster’s naked flesh, wet and soapy. She’s in my tiled shower right now, lathering up those enticing curves. Washing those strawberry curls. Was she teasing the pink tips of her round tits? Does she spread her slick lips, teasing herself in the steamy enclosure?
This is the kind of thinking that will drive a man mad.
“It’s going to be a long quarantine,” I say out loud to nobody in particular.
True to my word, I sent Aster off to the bathroom as soon as the last of the breakfast dishes were dry. She insisted on helping wash up.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt as at home in my tiny kitchen as when she crowded in there with me, laughing and putting my plates in the wrong cupboard.
Everyone else has family…
Her words and the ghost of sadness in Aster’s big green eyes may haunt me forever.
I look down at the phone in my hand. My sister and mom are doing well, cheerfully holed up with their own families and blowing up my inbox with far too many texts in a day. For half a heartbeat I almost feel guilty for my happy childhood.
It may have only been me and Natalie and Mom, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I can’t imagine any of my own close friends ever forgetting me somewhere on a good day, much less when the shit hits the fan.
As if on cue, an incoming text lights up my screen.
Luca: Try not to let this quarantine wreak too much havoc on your social life.
I met my best friend while stationed in Kuai. I have a feeling he’s probably passing the storm of lockdown in his sprawling multi-million dollar island estate, surrounded by an assortment of exotic beauties to comfort him.
I wonder what he would think if he knew I was locked away with the woman of my dreams.
Wait. Aster is the woman of my dreams?
My cock throbs in my shorts in obvious response. I may have just met her, but it’s clear I’ve been waiting for this redhead bombshell my entire life.
There’s another throb from inside my board shorts when the sound of running water shuts off.
“Hey.” Aster emerges a few minutes later. Despite the relatively sunny weather, she’s dressed in every single layer option I gave her. The volleyball jersey is hanging loosely beneath the baggy sweats. Even the socks are too big on her. She looks like a little girl in her daddy’s clothes.
It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen, and I just developed a whole new fetish.
“Hey yourself,” I scoot over on the couch as she plops down. Her hair is wet, dripping onto the shoulders of my gray USCG sweatshirt.
She’s worrying at her bottom lip, chewing on that plump pillow in a way that makes me want to pull he
r into my lap and take over that chore for her.
“You ok, Steel Magnolia?”
Aster wrinkles her nose at me.
“Oh hell naw.” Somehow her accent gets thicker when she’s mad. Throw another kink on the list for me. “Steel Magnolias is in Louisiana. I’m a Texas girl. Get it right, Point Break.”
I have to laugh at the indignation in her voice.
“Easy, killer. You just seem a little… stressed is all.”
Aster stops trying to chew through her bottom lip long enough to glare at me.
“What? You think little ole’ type-A me is going to let something as small as a plague stress me out?” Sarcasm drips from her voice like honey, but it’s tempered by a genuine smile.
“Alright, smartass. I was just being nice,” I cut her off.
It’s enough to make her laugh, and I decide right then I am going to hear that sound every day for the rest of our lives.
“We might be stuck together for a bit. Time for some icebreakers.” I unfold myself from the couch.
Aster’s groan follows my short walk to the hall closet.
“For fuck’s sake, Seb. You don’t mean like a ‘get to know each other’ game, do you? First day of class shit? If you make me tell you three things I hate about myself I swear I’ll take my chances with the zombies—”
“Relax,” I laugh.
The box I’m looking for is at the top of the pile. I hold it up to her, shaking it a little until the pieces inside rattle.
“Trivial Pursuit?” She asks. I can tell she’s intrigued by the purse of her full lips. “I haven’t played that in ages.”
“Good,” I smirk down at where she’s sitting on the couch, hands on my hips. “That much easier to kick your ass then, Alamo.”
“Oh please,” Aster snorts indelicately. “You wish, Puddle Pirate.”
There’s a fire in her eyes now, excitement and playfulness touseling together. It’s fun and contagious.
“Care to make things a little… interesting?” I let the dare hang in the air between us, my mouth a breath from hers. “Strip poker wouldn’t be fair, but surely a smart girl like you could win Strip Trivia?”
I watch Aster’s eyes dart from my lips to my mostly unclothed form. I know what she’s thinking.
Strip Trivial Pursuit when she’s wearing three times as many layers as I am gives my opponent a big advantage.
The slow smile that spreads across her face is reward enough.
“You’re on,” she breathes.
I snag a tee-shirt off the back of the couch and settle in front of the coffee table.
No matter how this ends, I’m going to be the winner.
4
Aster
I bet I know What she’d like… and I can feel how right she’d be for me. — The Beach Boys, ‘Good Vibrations’
I discovered masturbation as a teen and decided that men could wait. I’m a self-sufficient woman. A vibrator won’t break my heart or brag to its friends. A dildo doesn’t forget to call you back.
Or, it does, but that’s ok. It’s a thing.
It’s been alright. Okay. Certainly nothing like the experiences I read about, but I always assumed they were just taking heavy artistic license. Nothing could actually feel that good or be that hot.
Now?
Now I know better.
Seb isn’t trying to hide the way his gaze lingers on my curves, even though I still have everything but my socks on. Something in his smoldering blue gaze makes me feel like he has x-ray vision.
It certainly wouldn’t surprise me. He already looks like Superman. I could shave with his jawline, to say nothing of his physique. He’s definitely a man of steel.
“Your turn, Lonestar.” He grins across at me. Casual. Confident. I didn’t blame him in the least. He’d already lost his shirt, but all that had done was distract me even more.
I roll the dice and wrinkle my nose at my options, or rather, lack thereof.
“Ugh. Sports.”
Seb grins at me, his teeth shining bright in contrast to his deep, dark tan.
“Alright. This is a softball. Who’s widely regarded as the best surfer of all time.”
“Is that actually the question on the card?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Lifeguards honor.” He raises a hand.
I suspect he’s cheating, but then again, I’m wearing layers.
“Tony Hawk,” I say, going for a laugh.
Seb just shakes his head at me, tsking.
“Kelly Slater. This is going to be rough for you, Texas.”
I roll my eyes at him and strip off his jacket. Everything I have on that isn’t this stupid thong is his, and I raided his closet hard. I’m not about to lose this game.
“I’m not the one about to eat my shorts, Point Break.”
He laughs, rolling the die and advancing his character. The games we’d been playing earlier had been pure fun, more enjoyment than I’d had in years. An excuse to completely relax in the presence of a guy who looked like he was carved out of deeply tanned marble was just what I needed.
Now there’s tension. I’m used to being tense, but this is a different flavor. There’s a pull between us. A draw that reminds me of my first day in fifth-grade science class, learning about electromagnets. The force is incredibly powerful. It draws me to Seb, and I can tell by the way his eyes linger on me that it’s hitting him just as hard.
“Alright. Give me science.”
The card I pull makes my face light up.
“Ohhhh boy. You’re in for it. This is a hard one.” I grin at him evilly. He just calmly gazes back, unflappable.
“I’m fine with it getting hard, Aster. Are you?”
Cocky sonofabitch. I really, really want to flap him.
“Name the six quarks.” I smile at him smugly.
“Up, down, strange, charm, truth and beauty.” He rattles off effortlessly.
I blink at him before glancing down at the card.
“Ok Sebastian, how in the name of my sweet Aunt Fanny do you know that?”
He shrugs as if every chiseled surfer god is an expert in quantum physics.
“I always liked science in school. The more esoteric stuff, not anything in a lab. But quantum is almost zen, and that’s the heart of surfing, you know.”
The way he talks about it makes the whole thing sound romantic. I study him hard, trying to figure out if he’s just fucking with me.
“Right. Do a lot of talking to spirits out on the waves?” I roll, advancing my piece to another square.
“I don’t talk to them, no. but you can hear them if you listen.” There’s something deeply profound in this, and my witty retort dies on my tongue.
Seb is the most interesting man I’ve ever met.
Also the hottest by a hundred fucking miles. His muscles ripple and shine like he’s freshly oiled, and I lose the next half a dozen questions in a row staring at him. The urge to lean across the table and lick his skin to see if he actually tastes like salty caramel is far too strong.
I stand up after missing yet another awful, terrible, unfair sports question. I glare at the Adonis sitting before me grinning smugly. I drop my hands to the shirt I’m wearing, one of his large dress shirts. It’s a button-down that looks like it hasn’t ever been worn.
“Slowly.”
It’s just one word, but it cuts through my defenses. There’s a quality to his voice that I can’t categorize. It’s deep, but his voice is always deep. It’s more than that. Primal. Hungry. It’s the sound a big cat makes on the plains. The deep, bone-rattling purr of a predator stalking its prey.
I shiver, goosebumps breaking out on my skin as I obey without thinking. My hands slow, fidgeting with each button before slowly popping it free. The last one comes apart and then the soft fabric is flowing down my body, revealing my bra-less breasts.
He raises an eyebrow as I cup my tits, hiding my fully erect nipples.
“No bra? And is that a thong? Why, Miss Aster, I d
o believe you are trying to seduce my virtue away from me.”
His fake accent is so terrible that I can’t help but giggle. Somehow the tension dissipates in the wake of the laughter. I sit down again, still hiding my traitorous nipples from his hungry eyes. That still leaves plenty for him to look at, as I spill out and around my hands.
“I’ve never seduced anyone’s virtue, Captain Crunch. Or been seduced for that matter.”
He blinks at me slowly, as if processing my words has short circuited his brain.
“You’re a virgin?” He asks finally.
I roll my eyes.
“Yes. For the record, my bra is covered in sand and I didn’t find any in your closet. Surprisingly.” I give him another teasing smile, trying to change the subject away from anything having to do with sex before I make a bigger fool of myself.
He just chuckles, not pressing the point. Bless him.
“You should have asked. I’m sure I could find some coconuts around here somewhere.”
He moves his piece across the board.
“Alright. Pop Culture.”
I groan as I glance at the question.
“Ugh. So easy. Ok, what’s the Beach Boys number one song of all time?” I ask.
“Easy. Surfin’ USA,” Seb answers.
My fist flies up, punching the air.
“Wrong! It’s Good Vibrations. Now take it off, baby!” I toss the card down, rubbing my hands together. Even if this delicious specimen would never be interested in a girl like me, I can at least enjoy the show.
Seb, of course, hasn’t got a bashful bone in his body. He stands up slowly, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his board shorts. Studying them closely, I can already see the faint outline of his cock. That or he’s smuggling an elephant trunk in there.
Then he drops them, and it’s my turn to be shocked as his massive manhood springs into view. He’s hard — he has to be, nobody could be that big soft. I lick my lips involuntarily, squirming in my seat.
Thank God I’m wearing sexy underwear. Turns out there’s a reason for wearing a string up your ass after all!
