blew along the path of my neck, warming the air-cooled trail with his tongue. “Now? Now, do you hate me?”
I put the empty bottle on the counter but I still couldn’t speak. I never wanted him to stop touching me.
Gabe turned me and stroked the hair from my face. His kiss was soft at first—he had a pale bruise where I’d bitten him—but I soon let him deepen it, whimpering into his mouth.
“What about now?” he whispered.
“ I don’t hate you. I just…I…” Another kiss. He licked the cider from the lithe little tendon under my tongue. “I hate that we’re wrong .”
“I know. I know.”
“My Mum would butcher you. She’d—”
“I don’t care, Danni.”
“You should.” I snorted. “She’s vicious.”
“She’s also not here.”
“Huh.” I cocked my head. “This is true.”
He nuzzled into my neck. “She’s not at the beach, either.”
“We’re taking a little walk…?”
He patted my bottom. “We’re taking a walk.”
I’d barely reached for my shoes when he came up behind me and pawed beneath my dress. He found my knicker hem and pulled on it, stroking me as he eased them down.
“I want you without these,” he said mischievously.
I blushed as I buckled my sandals; half from the alcohol and then, well…I’d never gone commando before. I wasn’t wearing a bra either, but I always guessed from all the vitriolic comments from middle-aged comediennes that I should make the most of getting away with it.
“I won’t ask why.”
“I’ll bet you can guess, though.” He spanked me lightly as I got to my feet. “After you, gorgeous.”
We walked down to the beach with knotted fingers, enjoying the cloying heat of the afternoon. Gabe held my skirt down when the breeze threatened to expose me and he brought my knuckles up for kisses every few moments, as if he couldn’t get his fill of them.
I felt naughty enough the first time I held hands in public with Esmé; this was something else.
We left our shoes by the rotten old beach gate and Gabe led me to a rocky corner set into the shade of the cliff. The rocks there were large with flat, smooth surfaces; perfect for sitting on. I kissed him passionately when he scooped me into his lap.
“Somebody will see us,” I said, glancing about at the little stretch of sand. “If they’re walking on the ledge over there—”
“Baby.” He tucked my skirt down. “They won’t know. And do you care…?”
I shifted against the bulge that nudged between my thighs so enthusiastically. God, no…I really didn’t. Not anymore.
“I feel like I’m in one of those daytime soaps,” I confessed.
“Illicit trysts by the ocean,” he mumbled into my collarbone. “Oh no, we shouldn’t! We mustn’t!”
“We can’t!” I giggled.
“ This forbidden lo— lust shit is TV crack, isn’t it?”
I tried so hard not to pause at his slip. Failed miserably. So I sat back and stroked the wind-ruffled hair from his face. “Yeah. I’m starting to get that now.”
His hand crept up along the inside of my thigh, higher and higher until he plucked waves of pleasure in my pelvis like notes on a harp. Shameless, I closed my eyes, took deep lungfuls of sea air and basked in the sunshine that spilled across my shoulders, all the while rocking myself harder into his palm. I liked this position, this in-the-lap-of-a-gorgeous-man thing. If I wasn’t about to come apart on his fingers, I’d have swished my arm in the air like a cowgirl and said something smug and embarrassing. Like a boss!
“You,” he said over the breeze, “are so wonderfully inappropriate.”
Oh, Jesus H. Christ. Tell me I didn’t say that out loud.
“Don’t look so terrified.” He grinned.
Then I felt the stretch of his second finger, all damp and warm from my sticky skin, and forgot about everything. Everything. All I wanted was the feel of him inside me properly, to have him take me like he did the previous night.
“Don’t rush.” His voice was muffled
I put the empty bottle on the counter but I still couldn’t speak. I never wanted him to stop touching me.
Gabe turned me and stroked the hair from my face. His kiss was soft at first—he had a pale bruise where I’d bitten him—but I soon let him deepen it, whimpering into his mouth.
“What about now?” he whispered.
“ I don’t hate you. I just…I…” Another kiss. He licked the cider from the lithe little tendon under my tongue. “I hate that we’re wrong .”
“I know. I know.”
“My Mum would butcher you. She’d—”
“I don’t care, Danni.”
“You should.” I snorted. “She’s vicious.”
“She’s also not here.”
“Huh.” I cocked my head. “This is true.”
He nuzzled into my neck. “She’s not at the beach, either.”
“We’re taking a little walk…?”
He patted my bottom. “We’re taking a walk.”
I’d barely reached for my shoes when he came up behind me and pawed beneath my dress. He found my knicker hem and pulled on it, stroking me as he eased them down.
“I want you without these,” he said mischievously.
I blushed as I buckled my sandals; half from the alcohol and then, well…I’d never gone commando before. I wasn’t wearing a bra either, but I always guessed from all the vitriolic comments from middle-aged comediennes that I should make the most of getting away with it.
“I won’t ask why.”
“I’ll bet you can guess, though.” He spanked me lightly as I got to my feet. “After you, gorgeous.”
We walked down to the beach with knotted fingers, enjoying the cloying heat of the afternoon. Gabe held my skirt down when the breeze threatened to expose me and he brought my knuckles up for kisses every few moments, as if he couldn’t get his fill of them.
I felt naughty enough the first time I held hands in public with Esmé; this was something else.
We left our shoes by the rotten old beach gate and Gabe led me to a rocky corner set into the shade of the cliff. The rocks there were large with flat, smooth surfaces; perfect for sitting on. I kissed him passionately when he scooped me into his lap.
“Somebody will see us,” I said, glancing about at the little stretch of sand. “If they’re walking on the ledge over there—”
“Baby.” He tucked my skirt down. “They won’t know. And do you care…?”
I shifted against the bulge that nudged between my thighs so enthusiastically. God, no…I really didn’t. Not anymore.
“I feel like I’m in one of those daytime soaps,” I confessed.
“Illicit trysts by the ocean,” he mumbled into my collarbone. “Oh no, we shouldn’t! We mustn’t!”
“We can’t!” I giggled.
“ This forbidden lo— lust shit is TV crack, isn’t it?”
I tried so hard not to pause at his slip. Failed miserably. So I sat back and stroked the wind-ruffled hair from his face. “Yeah. I’m starting to get that now.”
His hand crept up along the inside of my thigh, higher and higher until he plucked waves of pleasure in my pelvis like notes on a harp. Shameless, I closed my eyes, took deep lungfuls of sea air and basked in the sunshine that spilled across my shoulders, all the while rocking myself harder into his palm. I liked this position, this in-the-lap-of-a-gorgeous-man thing. If I wasn’t about to come apart on his fingers, I’d have swished my arm in the air like a cowgirl and said something smug and embarrassing. Like a boss!
“You,” he said over the breeze, “are so wonderfully inappropriate.”
Oh, Jesus H. Christ. Tell me I didn’t say that out loud.
“Don’t look so terrified.” He grinned.
Then I felt the stretch of his second finger, all damp and warm from my sticky skin, and forgot about everything. Everything. All I wanted was the feel of him inside me properly, to have him take me like he did the previous night.
“Don’t rush.” His voice was muffled
Similar Books
