The empty house is filled with nothing but the sounds of us together; our breath, our hands, the rumpling of fabric.
“People wear less clothing at the beach,” Nick grumbles, pulling off my layers. When he reaches the navy blue of my bra and panties he pauses, running a finger under the delicate lace. A shiver ripples across my body, surging from my breasts down my belly, until it settles hot and wet between my legs. Desperate, I rock against him, seeking whatever friction I can find. He smiles slowly and presses back, his length hard and ready.
I quickly remove his shirt and shorts, leaving only snug boxers. His body is perfection; well-honed and tuned for his athletic pursuits. He uses that strength now to lift me like a rag-doll, flipping our positions so that I’m on top of him. I can feel him better this way and he can explore me fully. I hum in response to his large hands palming my breasts, tweaking my nipples until they harden into peaks.
His fingers wander and I rock against his erection, still separated by two layers of cotton. I feel the shock waves rolling across my skin. It’s been months since a man touched me like this and even then, it wasn’t like this at all. Until this moment I didn’t have much to compare it to, nothing but the teasing experiences with Justin and Whit. Both of those stopped short, but now? I didn’t want Nick to stop. I wanted to feel every part of him inside every part of me.
Nick’s jaw tightens as he reaches for me, the ladder of hard-packed abs straining as he sits up. I cry from the loss of friction, wanting more. His hand dips between us, fingers grazing over the hot flame. I push at his shorts and he shimmies out of them, allowing his cock to spring between us.
I bite my lip, thankful in that moment that I’m not a virgin. That I’m on the pill. That this is not my first time, because I reach for his cock and spread the clear goo at the tip down and around his shaft. He groans, falling backwards onto the bed, as if experiencing ecstasy.
He grips my ass and lifts me up, angling his cock between my legs. I sink down, feeling his girth stretch my insides until we’re both settled in and he gazes at me with a lazy, content smile.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, like a man with his dick wrapped up tight. But even though it’s cheesy and even though he’s horny, I believe him when he touches my chin and trails his fingers down my breasts before settling on my hips. Because he’s beautiful, too. I believe him when his hips move, and when I ride him like a wave; rolling over the small, gentle ones as the bigger, rockier ones tremble in the distance.
Sweat pools between us and his breathing and my breathing, it merges into one. His hands and my hands combine as we float toward that same big one, roaring toward us.
I falter first, biting down on my lip. He grunts, jaw tensing, eyes closed as if fighting against the most pleasurable pain. The wave rolls over me, like that day in the ocean. It’s all-consuming, wild, dangerous and for a moment I think I’m lost, that I’ll never emerge, but then I hear him, hear my name fall from his lips, see his jaw slacken and his hips slow but the thrusts deepen. I crumble on top of him and he holds me tight, hands in my hair, breath in my ear, and I feel it in every speck of my body when he comes, rumbling like a wave beating against the shore.
We settle, hearts beating against one another, and I roll to the side, nestling under his arm. I’m sticky, hot, and my pulse thunders, but I don’t move. I don’t speak. I don’t dare miss a moment of this moment.
* * *
Nick kisses me on my forehead and pulls me in close, covering me like a blanket.
“Hey,” he says, running his fingers down my arm.
“Hi.” I kiss his chest, thinking about how nice this is. How peaceful. That is, until a horn blares from outside, making me jump. Fuck. “What time is it?”
He checks his phone. “Seven-fifty-eight.”
“Fuck.”
His eyebrows raise at my language, but I don’t care. I’m already stumbling out of the bed, too frazzled to worry about my nakedness. I search for my clothes—any clothes.
“What are you doing?” he asks, watching me.
“That’s my taxi. I’ve got to get to the airport.”
Nick doesn’t move, he’s sprawled out on the bed, not even trying to hide the tenting of the sheets between his legs. My eyes slide toward it—him, and I blush. “Are you just going to lie there?”
He shrugs. “I don’t have to be at the airport.”
The horn blares again. I race down the hall, and bang on the window, waving to the driver. He gives me the thumbs up. The last thing I need is a bunch of angry neighbors pissed about the cab.
Again I race around my bedroom, running in and out of my attached bathroom, throwing everything I can into my toiletry bag. Fuck, fuck, shit. I was supposed to do all this the night before. You know, when I was screwing Nick.
I glance over at him again, eyes trailing over the way his tanned skin contrasts against my crisp, white shee
ts. The way the V of his hip highlights the scattering of hair under his belly button. I sigh at myself and catch his eye, which leads me to notice the smirk tugging at his mouth.
“What?” I ask, shoving my headphones and charger into my bag.
“You’re cute when you’re all frazzled.”
“You could help me, you know, instead of lying in the bed all sex-god-like.”
“I think I helped you last night.” He wrinkles his nose. “You had a lot of pent-up stress.”