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He took the encouragement as intended and trailed his fingertips up and down my arm. His voice was low and close when he spoke. “So what’s your favorite thing to do at the beach?”
“I usually bring a book but if I’m being honest, I rarely actually read on the beach. Mostly I lie out like a lizard and soak in the sun. Bring the book along as intellectual cover.”
He grinned. “What’s your cover today?”
I poked through the bag with my other hand and pulled out a paperback. “It’s a paranormal time-traveling romance set in Scotland.”
“So, like… Outlander?”
“Kind of.” I was impressed he knew that reference. “But this is a different paranormal time-traveling romance set in Scotland. Why, are you a Gabaldon fan?”
He shrugged. “I got a decent way into the first season of the show.” He flipped through the well-worn book to a page I’d dog-eared. “Ooh. This is steamy.”
I laughed. “Yes, it is.”
“They’re making out on a beach right now.”
“That’s relevant.” I had forgotten that scene existed. I sat up. “Let me see.”
I skimmed the pages he had open from over his shoulder. “They are not making out on a beach. They are definitely making out next to a bog.”
“Fine.” He snapped the book shut. “But the beach sounds better to me.”
I giggled. “That’s because you’re on a beach right now.”
He leaned closer as I lay back down, then reached across my midsection to stroke his fingertips over my other arm. “Have you ever made out on a beach?”
I had to think about that for a second. “Actually… no.”
He gasped and straightened. “Even though you live within just a few miles? There’s no rule that you have to make out on the beach when you live this close?”
I tilted my head and gave my most innocent look. “I guess I’m just an outlaw.”
Another giggle bubbled out of me as he rose onto his elbows, his warm arms bracketing me on either side, his chest coming up against mine. My hands fluttered to his shoulders.
“Admittedly, outlaws are sexy. But I can think of a solution to your predicament.” His leg slipped between mine, putting delicious pressure against the ache building up at my core.
I moaned and bit my lip – then hesitated. Although sounds carried up from the beach, we were obscured by the tent, with few people in our line of sight.
So I reached up my hands, sank my fingers into his hair, and ground my pelvis into him. He leaned in and took my lips in slow, indulgent strokes, his tongue gently coaxing my mouth open in a way that felt like melting. He pressed his thigh firmly against my center and I gasped for breath before we tangled in another round of leisurely kisses.
“Fuck,” I muttered the next time I came up for air. “The fact that I’ve missed out on beach make-outs for so long is a crime.”
He hummed against my skin as he pressed kisses down my neck. “For the record, I prefer the beach. But I’d still make out with you even if we were next to a bog.”
“Truly, romance is not dead.” I tried to go for sarcasm as I bit back a moan and squirmed underneath him, taking on the satisfying weight of his body. He groaned and stiffened. All over.
I rubbed up against his erection. “Oh, hello.”
“Careful there.” His breath brushed against my ear. “You’re playing with fire.”
I couldn’t help it. He was too irresistible not to tease. “But what if I like playing with fire?”
I wondered what he would do next. Would he call my bluff and up the ante?
Without a word, he reached over, grabbed the tent zipper, and slowly pulled it closed, insulating us from the eyes and sounds of the world.
And with that, my heart was off to the races. An electric awareness passed through my body, charging me up from my fingertips to my toes. I wanted him, bad. Here. Now.
He pulled down my bikini top until my breasts spilled over, kissing and suckling one nipple then the other, my breath hitching at the acute draw of his lips. When he came back up to kiss my mouth, I caressed the straining outline of his cock and tugged at the ties of his shorts. Once freed, he bounced heavily into my hands, hot and smooth and hard.
I slipped my other hand under my bikini bottoms, where I was slick in anticipation of him. I wet my fingers then gripped him, spreading the slickness over the head and shaft of his cock. He sucked in a hard breath as I stroked him with smooth, swirling pumps. I shimmed and lifted my hips to help him remove my bottoms. He positioned the tip of his cock between my legs, rubbing himself up and down the wet folds of my pussy.
This time I did moan, as quietly as I could manage. “Yes. God, yes.”
He entered me slowly, sweetly, until I was deliciously full with the whole of him. I bucked my hips to meet him, digging my feet into the sand. The rest of the world retreated as we found our rhythm, our quickening breaths the only thing that could give us away. The blood rushed in my ears and mixed with the sounds of the waves as a swell of pleasure carried me over one crest after another. He followed not long after, his own climax extending mine.
Our bodies rested against one another in the afterglow, our chests expanding, muscles relaxing, until we became vaguely aware of the world around us once again.
“You think anyone’s noticed us?” I whispered.
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