Just sex. Sex I can do.
“You’d better fucking mean that,” I say.
“I do.”
“Say it again. I want to hear it.”
“I don’t want you to control yourself with me, Ford. How much did I like it when you let loose on Friday? I definitely didn’t feel uncomfortable then.”
She’s curious. Same as I am.
Curious to know if it’s going to go down. If it’s going to be as good as it was when we were nineteen and everything was new and romantic and impossibly, overwhelmingly sweet.
Eva wraps her legs around my waist. Her eyes on mine, steady and sure. Pressing her center to my center. The length of my dick pressing up against her warmth, our bodies separated by two flimsy—wet—pieces of fabric.
My mouth falls open at the shock of sensation.
It feels so good—I want her so bad—
“Eva,” I say gruffly. I drop my arm and curl my fingers, still tangled in her bikini top, around the nape of her neck.
“Yeah?” she replies, breathless. Touching her forehead to mine. Lips half an inch away.
“You gonna let me touch you? The way I want?”
She nods. My cock throbs.Chapter FourteenEvaDon’t don’t don’t.
Yes yes yes.
I can’t tell what my heart is saying as it pounds against my breastbone. Filling my ears, my skin, my lips with one relentless rush of blood after another.
My lips. My God.
They want this man, same as my body wants him. Craves him.
Ford’s eyes are on my mouth. My eyes. Back to my mouth.
He’s huge and he’s holding me up. I trust him to hold me and he does, biceps flexing against my bare back. My nipples are squished against the wall of muscle that is his chest. His cock—gah, no wonder I was addicted to it in college—nudges against my pussy in the most delicious, most maddening way imaginable. It feels so damn good being in his arms again.
Everything about today feels good.
This is lust. Sure. But there’s an and floating to the surface too.
Lust and.
And what? I don’t know.
I just know this man makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Confident. Inspired. Safe.
Safe, not in the sense that everything is going to be okay. But safe in the sense that I’ll be okay even if everything else isn’t. His steadiness, his quiet confidence, is a much needed reminder of the steadiness I have inside myself.
I’ve fucked up before. I’ve failed. But I’ve lived to tell the tale.
Same as I’ll live if I hook up with Ford right now and it doesn’t end well.
But who’s to say that will happen? He isn’t asking anything of me, except to let him touch me the way he wants. That I can do. Easily.
Gladly. I wouldn’t say I’m starved for sex, but I haven’t felt electricity like this—attraction like this—in years. The kind that makes you ache everywhere. An ache that wraps around your bones, that you feel inside your skin.
And I told Ford on the ride to the marina exactly why this could never be a long term thing. We want different things. We lead completely different lives. Which means that, like my cookbook, this fling has a deadline. Maybe I’ll disappoint him a little, maybe he’ll disappoint me. But hearts won’t get broken.
Our hearts will be safe. His heart will be safe. Because even after all this time, and even after the way he hurt me, I hate the thought of hurting this beautiful, tender, insanely excellent boy.
I go in for the kill.
I nudge my nose against his and then I kiss him. He groans, his mouth immediately, hungrily opening to mine. His lips and tongue are a deliciously warm counterpoint to the temperature of the water around us. He tastes like salt. Heat.
He licks inside my mouth with his tongue. Slow and languid. He tightens the arm he’s got curled around my waist and gently begins to guide me up, then down, then side to side, so that I’m grinding against his dick while he tugs my bottom lip between his teeth.
Friction builds between my legs. The head of his dick hits my clit, once, twice, three times, and I bite down on his tongue, rolling my hips, seeking more.
I want more. Always.
I try to move faster—lust, let’s keep it at lust—but he tightens his grip on me, controlling our motion. Forcing me to slow down.
Forcing me to savor him. Which is terrifying. And wonderful.
So wonderful I allow it.
We kiss, long and slow. The fire in my core building with every lick, every groan. He pulls at me, pulls and asks and takes, and I give. I want to tear these bikini bottoms off so I can feel him.
So he can fuck me.
I want to be underneath him. Crushed by his weight. The heaviness between my legs is starting to hurt, and I need relief.
The water moves around us. We rise on the crest of the wave, fall back down. Sprays of salty water land on my face. I feel my skin growing hot beneath the glare of the sun; the backs of my closed lids burn red to pink.