On Hart's Boardwalk (On Dublin Street 6.7)

“Sure, thanks.” He took it, while I grabbed another one for Nate. “I’m Greg.”

I looked back up at him. He was taller than Nate, probably about the same height as Braden and Logan. “Liv.”

“Friend of the bride or groom?”

“The groom. My husband used to work with Mark.” I lied easily.

Something akin to disappointment crossed young Greg’s face. “Oh. So that was your husband you were dancing with?”

He’d been watching me?

“Yup.”

“Shame that.” This time I realized his grin was flirtatious. “It would have been nice to get to know you.”

I had to admit I was a little thrilled by the admiration. He was a lot younger than me, and cute. But still, my husband just happened to be hotter, sexier, and the most wonderful father in the whole wide world. “That’s sweet. But I’m happily married. And a little old for you, I think.”

“Not at all.” He dismissed my last comment. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“Well try.” Nate suddenly appeared at my side, glaring up at my young flirter. He fairly bristled with possessiveness. Was it wrong of me to be thrilled by that, too?

Greg stepped back, giving Nate a congenial nod. “No offense meant. You have a beautiful wife.”

I saw the muscle in Nate’s jaw twitch but he controlled his annoyance and just nodded. “I know that. Not too thrilled about strange men flirting with her though, so if you’re done . . .” In other words, fuck off.

“Nate,” I warned him under my breath.

But thankfully, my would-be surfer boy charmer didn’t take Nate’s rudeness to heart. He seemed amused by it, lifting his champagne glass to us before turning on his heel and sauntering off, presumably to find someone else to flirt with.

“Time to go.” Nate took the glass of champagne out of my hand and tossed it back in one gulp.

I did the same, just in time, before I found myself being dragged out of the ballroom. “I can’t bloody leave you alone for a minute,” he huffed, as he pushed open one set of the double doors.

“He meant no harm.”

“Aye.” He grumbled.

“I didn’t even consider him for a second,” I added. “You know I only see you. I only ever want you.”

Nate stopped in the foyer of the hotel and looked back at me. His whole face softened. “You really mean that.”

I nodded, hoping he felt my sincerity. It was true. While I could recognize that other men were attractive, they didn’t elicit a sexual response in me. No one but my husband did it for me.

“Inn. Now. Sex.”

My lips trembled with laughter at his sudden caveman dialogue, but instead of agreeing, I shook my head. “Sorry, baby, you still have a bet to fulfill.”

* * *

* * *

“You’re really going to make me do this?” Nate asked as we rounded the corner on the beach to a more secluded spot, as far away from the boardwalk as we could get. The moon bathed the sand and the water with its luminosity, providing us with an ethereal light as the ocean breeze caused my dressed to twist around my legs. I shivered, knowing it was going to be freezing out there.

But so far this vacation had been an adventure I wouldn’t forget, and I didn’t want to stop throwing caution to the wind. In this case, almost literally.

My answer to Nate’s question was to grab the skirts of my dress and pull them up, lifting the whole thing over my head and laying it out on the sand like a blanket. I grinned at my husband’s look of surprise, shivering in nothing but my bra, knickers, and sandals. “I’m making you do it. But not on your own.” I reached down to undo the straps on my sandals.

“You are fucking crazy,” he chuckled, quickly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Hurry!” I jumped from one foot to the other to keep warm. It wasn’t cold up by the boardwalk, but that breeze coming right in off the ocean, the one that had been soothing during the hot day, was now chilly in the dark of the night.

“Bra and knickers off,” Nate said, removing his boxer briefs.

“Only fair.” I divested myself of them and felt my nipples harden immediately.

My husband groaned, focused completely on my breasts. “Can we just skip the water part and go straight to the sex part?”

“You’re not going to welch on a bet, are you?”

He made a face but grabbed my hand. “You ready for this?”

I nodded, even though my stomach was fluttering. It was going to be painfully cold. Plus, despite feeling secluded, this was a public beach. If we got caught, it was a crime. The thought sent a little thrill down my spine. “Let’s do it.”

Sucking in our breaths, we ran into the ocean together, both of us inhaling sharp gasps as the ice-cold water surrounded us.

“Fuck!” Nate bit out as we broke hands to jump around like we’d just stepped onto hot coals. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’s fucking baltic!”

I didn’t even say anything.

I couldn’t.

The words had frozen inside of me.

Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Worst idea ever!

I turned right back around and got the hell out of there.

The relief of being out of the water was immense, but my whole body was shaking even though it had had a mere few seconds in the sea. I’d almost reached my dress when strong arms wrapped around me and I found myself flying through the air, landing on the hard muscular body of my husband.

He immediately flipped us, so I was on my back on top of my dress. “There’s only one way to warm up, babe.”

I raised my arms above my head, my fingers sliding through cold sand, my breasts arching up in invitation. “I’m all yours, baby.”

Nate sat back to enjoy the view. His hooded eyes drifted down my body and I lowered my gaze to see that his dick, which seconds before been subdued by freezing cold water, was beginning to swell and strain toward his hard stomach.

“What did I do to deserve you, Liv? Who else would jump into a baltic ocean with me and then lie like a live Botticelli on a public beach, not caring about anything but having my cock inside you?”

“No one else would. Now stop ogling and service me.” I giggled, shifting my hips, trying to get him to do something. We were, after all, on a public beach!

But I knew instantly that Nate wasn’t in the mood to make this quick, despite our risqué location. Heat flashed through me immediately, knowing the signs, his intent. Nate wanted to draw this out, savor it.

He placed his hands on my knees, his thumbs on the inside of my legs, and he slowly coasted them upward.

My breath left me.

And then he reached the apex of my thighs but he kept going, his thumbs meeting in the middle over my clit. I gasped as he pressed his thumbs down and rubbed, and my hips arched, sliding off the dress and the grainy sand at my back.

Nate’s eyes flew to mine, then desire and satisfaction moved through his expression as he watched my arousal increase with the circular motion of his thumbs. His lips parted, his chest rising and falling faster, as we stared at each other like two people who were starving.

The whole world seemed to fall away. I was barely cognizant of the sand beneath me or the rush of the sea waves at Nate’s back, or the smell of salt in the air. All I could see was my husband, all I could feel were his thumbs, his body above mine, and all I could smell was the aftershave I bought him every Christmas.

I wet my dry lips with my tongue as my eyes dipped to his dick, swollen, purple-red and jutting out between his muscular thighs. Would I ever get tired of looking at my beautiful husband? No. I really didn’t think I would.

My sex swelled and a little huff of excitement escaped me.

Hearing it, Nate’s cock jerked and he blew my mind by speaking what had just been on mine. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire

of looking at you, Liv. Not ever.” He stared into my now-watery eyes as he smoothed his hand up my naked thigh.

“Yes,” I whispered, not even knowing what I was saying yes to. It was more of a plea, really.

“Look at all those goose bumps,” he whispered, eyeing my breasts and hard nipples. “So gorgeous. You’re driving me mad. I just want to touch you all the time.” His fingers slipped down my body and inside me. My inner muscles clamped around him in desperate need. Nate groaned. “I’m so glad you feel the same way.”

I huffed, feeling breathless. “Are you deliberately torturing me?”

He gave me a cocky smile and those sexy dimples. “You were the one who said anticipation makes for a better orgasm.”