Summer's Kiss (The Boys of Ocean Beach 1)

“I do, too.”

“Seeing that bastard hurt you and watching you walk away was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. When I was a kid I couldn’t control it, but this? I have a choice, and I choose you.”

His eyes hold mine and when he leans down and kisses me, I’m ready. We’ve laid everything bare, and I’m willing to take the consequences. It may be my only chance. His lips move to my neck, hot and eager, and I slide my hands around his back, touching the soft skin above his waist.

In the shadowy room, I fumble with the buttons on Justin’s shirt while he makes quick work of my tank and pushes my shorts to the ground. He’s fast, like most men, his desire dictating his speed. But I’m nervous and exposed, tripping over the shorts—bumping into the table.

“Ouch, crap,” I laugh, rubbing my hip. Justin steadies me—his hands warm against my body.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Very,” I promise. I kiss him again, tugging at his waistband. He hardly notices, too intent on exploring every inch of my body.

“Bed,” I demand, fumbling backwards. I reach back for the mattress and land with a soft thud. I want to feel him on top of me. Under me. “Inside,” I breathe out the instant he climbs on the bed. I can see his face better here, the light filtering through the tiny, odd-shaped window over my bed.

We’ve been tiptoeing around this moment all afternoon, ever since he walked into my shower and soaped up his body. A shiver runs down my spine as his fingers stroke my skin.

“Thank you for coming back,” he mumbles, pushing the sweat-slicked hair off my forehead. “Thank you for forgiving me.”

I nuzzle my face in his neck and kiss my way across his throat to the hollow of his collarbone. “Ocean Beach seems to be the place for second chances. I think we deserve one, too.”

He smiles, pressing his hips into mine. The weight shoots through me and my legs drop to the side, allowing his hard length to settle against me.

I smile back, feeling him and this moment, because everything about it feels right. He feels right. We feel right. This crazy trailer with the lapping waves of the waterway feels right.

“Are you ready?” he asks, as if there’s any doubt. I nod and when he eases into my body, fulfilling my want and need for him to be inside, a sudden realization comes over me. Not just the euphoria or relief from the mounting lust. I’d promised myself I’d repair the damage I’d done back at school and rebuild my life in this tiny camper by the sea. I promised I would leave a different person when I left than when I arrived.

I brush the hair out of his eyes, feeling the roll of his hips against the pops and crackle of fireworks down the beach. Our relationship is cemented, our commitment understood.

Bobby had told me weeks ago that I’d never want to leave this place.

I had no idea then how right he would be.

Chapter 22

Justin places a finger on my lips and says, “Shhh.” He fights his own laugh as we duck past a guy unloading fishing gear from his truck. We walk in the opposite direction, away from the fishing piers, but it doesn’t matter. The beach is silent other than the crashing waves. I suspect everyone is recovering from the long day and night of celebrations.

It’s barely six and the sky has just started to lighten to a hazy gray. I follow Justin over the dunes to the water, holding his hand as he leads the way. Once we hit the hard-packed sand, we drop our towels and strip off our clothes, down to our bathing suits. Out in the water, I spot three surfers bobbing on the water.

“You can do this,” he says. My feet sink into the cool, soft sand bordering the ocean.

I’m not sure why I agreed to this, but he woke me up naked and weak and told me it was time to face a fear of my own. The guys were shedding their Pact. I need to shed my fear of the water if I’m really going to embrace the boys of Ocean Beach.

The water is Justin’s home, like a second skin, so he wades in to his knees while I tentatively allow tiny waves to cover my toes. The others see us coming, all eyes trained in my direction.

“I’m coming,” I say, pushing down the panic building in my chest. This fear is unfounded, but real. He walks back and takes my hand this time

, slowing his pace to mine.

“This may take forever,” he says several minutes later. The water is only at our shins. I’m not sure he realizes it, but my heart is in my throat; a full-fledged panic attack is not far away.

“Maybe we should just—oooph.” Justin picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I look over his shoulder at the dark water as he wades in deeper.

“This will be faster.”

I wrap my arms around his neck. “Justin, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“I can’t breathe, babe,” he says and I loosen my grip. A little. He takes a couple more strides in and stops. We’re about waist deep and a wave splashes over my butt.