by Claire Woods
He held my hand telling me I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. And like a young teenager trapped in first love—I hung on every honeyed word that fell from his lips.
Under the dancing seagrass and behind the dunes, I let him peel off my shorts, strip me of my panties and steal my virginity.
Despite the romantic setting—sand got in my ass and every fold between my thighs causing him to feel like sandpaper when he thrusted in.
It hurt like hell, was hardly arousing—I’ve never wanted to repeat the experience called sex again. The next time I saw him was a year later in the society page section of the Washington D.C. Journal. He’s from some filthy rich, political family or something. They were at a fundraiser; ironically for the National Cancer Foundation.
No guy since Elliot has even made me look twice much less think about them in that way.
But American Idol singer—he was something else.
He was as tall as a superhero with shoulders just as wide. But superheroes don’t run over girls—they rescue them.
His amber eyes sparkled when he realized I wasn’t seriously hurt when he ribbed me for my fanny pack. But damn did I melt when he flashed me those panty melting dimples. That with his chiseled jaw and athletic body are going to break a lot of hearts at the shore this summer.
I just don’t want mine to be one of them.
Sighing, I bend down slipping off my sneakers when I reach the sand. It’s only the end of May. Memorial Day is next weekend. After that, the season will be in full swing. The streets will be full of traffic, the restaurants will be crowded, and the sand will be littered with babes in bikinis with summer boys eyeing every one.
I wanted to enjoy the solitude of the beach at night before the bonfires, beer bottles, and parties descend. My cell rings from inside my fanny pack disrupting my thoughts.
“Callie? Where are you?”
“Hey, Gina. I’m on the beach.”
“The shop closes in five minutes.”
“I know. Sorry I couldn’t stop by. Some blockhead summer boy hit me in the crosswalk.”
“WHAT? I’ll kill him myself. You called your Uncle Steve, right? He’d thrown that asshole in jail, for sure.”
My toes dig into the soft sand, “no. No, I didn’t.”
“Why the hell not? Are you okay? Did they call an ambulance?”
“Yes, I’m fine. No, there was no need for an ambulance. But—you are down one less bike to rent.”
“That’s fine sweetie, that’s what insurance is for. Sleep in tomorrow and come in after lunch.”
“Thanks, Gina.”
My Aunt Gina’s the best. She and Uncle Steve are my Dad’s siblings. Gina’s closer to me than them since she was born fifteen years after them. She’s who Gran would refer to as her, “Oops, baby.”
I never knew what that meant until sex-ed class.
Now, I know more about the human body than most. I’m studying to be a physician. I want to help sick people get better. It’s something I’ve always wanted. Getting accepted into Virginia’s elite State University was easy. But I had no choice but to defer a year to stay here, help Dad run the shops, look after Charlie, and hold Mom’s hand as she went through her treatments.
I don’t regret one second of it.
Only she didn’t respond to the chemo the way we hoped. The doctors added stem cell therapy, but instead of deferring again I started taking classes at the new satellite campus that opened up last summer.
It’s as if God saw my struggles and cleared up a path for me. I breathe in the humid summer air with a sigh of relief. The mile-long walk on the beach went fast.
What the heck?
I almost trip on a pile of clothes. Pausing, I glance in all directions. There’s no one else here. But out in the water under a beam of blinding moonlight, a dark head bobs.
“Crazy idiot. Sharks feed at night.” I shake my head. Looking back down, I grin recognizing the gray hoodie.
It can’t be.
Gingerly, I bend down, taking it in my hands.
It smells like him.
My breasts tingle; thighs ache.
With no one to see, I press it to my nose closing my eyes. The fragrance industry sure knows what they’re about. My hormones are driving the bus, and I’m tempted to strip my clothes off and ride that pony swimming in the moonlight.
But I don’t.
I have a better idea instead.
Snagging the rest of his clothing, I jog away from the surf towards the dunes covered in shadows.
“HEY!” He calls out swimming furiously towards shore.
But summer boy doesn’t know these beach paths as I do. He doesn’t stand a chance.
Especially naked.
But how could I know he’s as fast as an Olympian?
He tackles me from behind—I fall, face-planting in the sand. His clothes acting as a barricade saves me from sand scrapes.
“What the hell?” He mutters, turning me over.
“Fanny pack?”
“Um… hi?”
“Well, this is interesting.” He smiles down on me, elbows planted in the sand on either side of my body.
Oddly, I’m not afraid of being pinned down in the moonlight by this handsome stranger—until—it dawns on me he’s naked as the day he was born. Something hard rocks into the cradle between my hips causing me to gasp as he shifts his weight.
“Sorry,” he rolls to the side for a second giving me room to get up. “Fuck it. I’m not sorry.” He rolls back on top of me, tracing a finger over my stunned, parted lips. “I made a wish on a star tonight. Haven’t done that since I was ten. And here you are, showing up here like a thief in the moonlight. Technically, you are a thief. Maybe I should call the cops on you, baby?”
I can’t answer. It’s happening to me again, and I’m helpless to stop it.
I’m drowning on dry land, star gazing into his eyes as his head lowers a breath from mine. “Thank you for turning the shittiest day I ever had, into the best one,” he murmurs capturing my lips.
Instinctually, my thighs open, womb wanting to cradle his hips and invite him inside.
“So sweet,” he murmurs against my lips a second before his tongue boldly comes out to play with mine. “But you won’t need this.” With a smirk, he unclasps the buckle to my fanny pack tossing it next to my sneakers that dropped when he caught me. His lips never leave mine. He does this so smoothly and skillfully as if seduction is his profession.
Elliott never kissed me like this. Hell, I doubt even Jamie Dornan can kiss like this.
My hands clutch his head, nails raking through his hair as I hungrily kiss him back.
His hands come up under my shirt causing me to hiss when he touches the spot on my ribs where the pavement scraped.
He lowers his head to inspect the marks his hands feel.
“Did I cause this?”
My reply is a gasp as he trails a fire of kisses along my ribcage up to my breasts. He unclasps the front snap bra I put on, and my breasts spring free from confinement.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he moans, worshiping my breasts with his wet tongue, licking and sucking them.
He rolls back on his heels one arm around my back to lift me closer to his hungry mouth. The large palm on his other hand presses my breasts together so that he can suck both nipples at the same time.
“Oh. My. God.” My voice sounds crazy even to my ears.
I’m on fire. My clit’s swollen, my body’s primed and ready to go.
I feel his smile against my skin as he drops one hand, cupping my sex hard.
I nearly break my nose on his chin as my body jolts like it’s been struck by a live wire.
“What is it?”
“Huh?” I’m lost at sea. Hungry, weak and entirely disoriented by his mad voodoo make out skills.
“You’re name, cupcake.”
My eyes lower. He’s unashamed, almost proud of it as he catches me dropping my eyes.
It’s be
autiful.
I’ve never thought dicks were beautiful. Maybe I cracked my head on the concrete.
The man must be thirteen or fourteen hard inches and thick as fuck.
“It fits.”
“What?”
“My size. It’s proportionate to my body.”
My face flames. Am I really taking to the stranger who almost killed me about his dick size?
Shaking my head, I curse myself.
“Nope.”
“What?”
“This is not happening,” I gesture between the two of us.
“Why not?” He whispers looking… hurt?
“Because,” I answer standing up and brushing the sand from my legs, “ the last time I was out here with a naked guy behind the dunes it didn’t end well.”
“Did he hurt you?” His fists clench as he stands.
“Not that way… although, I can attest that having sex on sand is not as hot as you’d think.”
He cocks an eyebrow, “Oh, fanny. We’d burn so hot—the ocean would catch fire.”
He grabs his shorts and turns around. I bite my lip. His ass is just as fine as the rest of him. Every muscle is cut, lines delineating each part.
Before I can think, I swipe his shirt, grab my pack and take off.
“Why are you running again?” He laughs behind me. “I don’t need to chase you when we have a habit of running into one another.”
And honestly, I’m not running from him. I’m running from myself.
“Crap.” A jagged shell cut through my underfoot. I left my sneakers. I took his shirt but left my shoes. In less than two hours I’ve lost my bike, my sanity and now my shoes to that… that—dirty player.
There’s no doubt in my mind that’s who he is. He reduced me to a puddle of mush, a woman not caring for anything but the need to have that man between her legs.
I don’t like it. It’s foreign. Alien. I’ve been so busy busting my ass that I forgot what it felt like to slow down and act like a woman out of adolescence. I don’t get many chances to anyway. With Mom getting sick; leaving Dad and me to run the two family businesses we own.
My best friend Sophie’s house is a couple of dunes over. Hobbling down the beach path, I feel like a complete mess. Horny, in pain, and in dire need of spilling to my best friend what just happened.
I don’t bother knocking but head to the side of her house, following the smell of the smoke from the bonfire her dad usually has going.
“Callie? What the hell happened to you?” She bolts out of an Adirondack chair.
Chin quivering, feeling like a lost, hot mess, I try not to cry.
“Callie?”
“Some hot stranger hit me on the bike. Then he—we—made out by the dunes and he almost made me come.”
“What?” Wine spews from her mouth. She takes me by the hand, leading me through the sliding glass doors inside and straight up to the small bathroom adjoining her room.
“Strip.”
She turns the shower on and takes a fluffy towel from the shelf. “You’re bleeding.”
“Yeah, I ran out on him and forgot my shoes. But I grabbed this.”
I hold up the gray T-shirt.
“He goes to UVA.”
“Shit. I didn’t bother looking at the emblem on his shirt when I was so busy sniffing it.”
“Well lucky for you, you’ll be at the same campus as your mystery man in a few months. Hey, don’t cry. I know you don’t have much experience with guys, it’s normal to be horny and make out with strangers. In fact, that’s what freshman year was mostly about.”
“Yeah, well. That isn’t me,” I mutter stepping into the hot spray. The water stings as I lather soap over my cuts, cleaning them free of sand. I grit my teeth, shaking my head, at how easily a hot guy and his mega dick made me forget the world. Forget my own damn name.
Gabe
GROANING, I ROLL OVER. I forgot to close the blinds last night and the sun peaks over the horizon stretching its rays wide, straight through the window hitting the bed.
I slept like a rock after swimming in the cold ocean for forty-five minutes after she fled. My cock was as hard as dried concrete. I didn’t feel like jerking off in Coach’s Gran's house. So, I swam it off, half-thinking a shark was going to think it was a midnight snack.
The thought helped shrink me as I swam. But damn my mystery girl was… fine.
Her breasts were high and just full enough to fill my hands. I still remember the taste of her: sweet tea and chocolate.
Christ. My morning wood wants to go. It looks like I’m going to go swimming with the sharks again. My cell rings on the nightstand; my hand slaps out feeling for it.
“Rise and shine asshole!”
“Trey?”
“Yup. Marcus and I are on our way. We come bearing gifts. We got all your crap out of the dorm yesterday. Damn, you are in some shit.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“We’ll be there by lunch. Oh, and Jackie showed up. She had her high heels pointed at my balls, threatening to stab them if I didn’t tell her where you are.
I pinch the bridge of my nose closing my eyes. “You didn’t.”
“Hell no. But Marcus being the dumbass he did let it slip that you fled to the beach.”
“Fucking Marcus. I’m going to kick the shit out of him.”
“Yeah, well. There’s more, bro… we all got caught in this mess. The University is opening an official investigation. Coach said we might need attorneys and shit. Maybe you could call your father?”
“Fuck no. I don’t need any more crap from him. We’ll figure this out on our own.”
“Dude? He’s a federal judge, and before that, he was the top prosecutor in Manhattan.”
“I said no.”
“Okay, but we need to get a handle on this. You and I have a shot to go pro. No team will want us if this sticks, due to the bad press it’ll bring. It’ll follow us around like a bad hook-up.”
Ending the call, I fall back on the pillows, dick deflated. At least that’s one less problem I have.
After a few minutes. I know what I need to do. I’m about to be a senior at one of the top University’s in the country, playing on a premier football team with the chance to be drafted.
I’m not going down like this.
And I’m not going to depend on anyone else to clean up the mess I landed in.
Swiping my phone back open, I scroll through until I find the President of the University’s number.
“Gabriel Parker?”
“Yes, good morning, sir. I’m sorry to bother you so early.”
“I’ve been at the office since seven fielding calls. I’m sure you know what the subject matter is.”
“Yes, sir. That’s why I’m calling.”
“I’d like to speak to you and the Board in person. I’m not a cheater. I want the chance to clear my name.”
“That’s very admirable, Parker. I’ll be in touch.”
Feeling like a man taking back control—I slip on a shirt and get to work. Hitting my smartwatch to track my workout, my bare feet pound across the sand. Maybe, just maybe—I’ll be able to turn this shit around and have one last summer to be just me—Gabe, the guy who lives on the beach and works as a rent-a-cop. Because if things work out—a year from now, I’ll be at a training camp getting my balls busted in pre-season for the pros.
Callie
MY FIRST CUP OF COFFEE is a morning ritual. It’s always black and strong enough to take the hair off a man’s chest. I usually drink it outside watching the breaking waves when the weather’s good.
“Morning, sweetheart.”
“Hey Dad,” I reply blowing on my coffee before taking a tiny sip.
“I need to talk to you.” He takes a seat next to me on the stone sea wall.
“It’s Mom, isn’t it?”
His eyes cut away from the water to look at me. “It is. But it’s not what you think.”
“She’s slowly doing better. But I ca
n’t keep running back and forth from here to the medical center at UVA. Especially since it’s almost the height of the season. Traffic is going to be a bitch.”
“It already is.”
“I rented an apartment a few blocks from the hospital. Charlie is going to spend time with Gran at her place in Delaware, and then I found a few cool camps for him by UVA.”
“What about the café? And the marina?”
“That’s where I need you. I know it’s a lot, but you’ve been working at both since you were a kid. I couldn’t leave the businesses in better hands.”
My shoulders slump with all the weight he just put on them. “I-I’m supposed to take a few courses over the summer. I’ve already registered.”
“I know. Gina’s going to help with the books. The same crew from last year’s back. We’re fully staffed, and I trust you. I know you can do this.”
Looking back out to the water, I take another sip. “You can count on me. Take care of Mom. We’ll figure the rest out.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder, turning to leave. “Stop by the marina first. I’ll give you the passwords and go over the accounting software. The café is much less complicated to run.”
“Okay.”
With my legs dangling over the sea wall, I contemplate who I am. Daughter, sister, marina manager, café’ worker, student, and after last night—a dirty slut.
I almost wish I had time for a summer fling. But too much is riding on me, and I won’t let my family down. Picking up the house phone, I dial the hospital punching in my mother’s room number.
“Hello?” her voice is soft, tired. I squish down any resentment I momentarily felt at all the responsibility that just was dumped on me.
“Hey, Mom. I wanted to call and say good morning. I know Dad and Charlie are coming up today, but I need to stay here—"
“And manage the businesses,” she finishes for me.
“Yeah,” I laugh.
“Oh, Callie. I’ve been thinking so much about you… I-I’m sorry. I wanted you to spend your summers at the beach, hanging out with your friends, not being forced to pick up our slack.”
“Stop. Stop right there, Mom. Nothing matters but you—coming home.”