Seaside Nights

by Melissa Foster

  “He is. All of my brothers are, but it was selfish of me, wasn’t it? To allow myself to become so out of it? Obviously that’s why they’re all so protective of me now, but it caused them to lie to me, and I hate knowing that.”

  Confusion riddled his brow. “How?”

  She’d never told anyone outside of her closest circle of friends about her father’s drinking. And now, somehow, Sawyer had stepped inside that circle and she wanted to share it with him, too.

  “My father began drinking after my mother died. For two years he was a functioning alcoholic. He was able to run his hardware store, but at night he drowned his sorrows in alcohol, and I never knew. I was living in New York at the time, and my brothers kept it from me. When I came home to visit, they made sure that I was away from him every evening. Meanwhile, Pete was taking care of him, getting him into bed at night, making sure he didn’t choke on his own puke.” She turned away, embarrassed.

  “Hey.” He turned her face gently toward his again. “That’s not your fault. That has nothing to do with you falling apart.”

  “But it does. They didn’t think I could handle it, and maybe they were right. That makes me a loser and a burden. Pete didn’t need to come after me when he was caring for our father. He already had so much on his plate. Grayson was worried sick because I was weak, and…If my mom was looking down on me, she would have been mortified.”

  Sawyer gathered her in his arms and held her close. “You know what I think?”

  “That you wish you’d never come into my shop for a tattoo?”

  “No.” He kissed her forehead again. “That we are made from the same cloth after all. You lead with your heart, Sky. I lead with mine.”

  “But my brothers—”

  “They love you, Sky. I saw it in the way they teased you and watched my every move. Blue, too. They’re all proud and protective of you.”

  “Because I’m weak,” she said in a deflated voice.

  “Because you’re strong enough to be weak when you need to. That’s a blessing. Most people are so hardened to their feelings that they mask them. I see it every day in the ring. Hell, Sky, I do it every day of my life.”

  “What do you mean? You seem to be in touch with your feelings. At least around me.”

  He smiled. “I can’t escape my feelings for you, can I?”

  She felt her cheeks flush, and when he lowered his lips to hers and took her in his arms, everything felt right, and good, and safe.

  “Do you hide your feelings from everyone else?” she asked.

  “I’m a fighter, Sky. I can’t bring sadness or worry, fear, or even happiness into the ring with me. Fighting takes total focus and dedication. Everything else gets buried down deep. I think everyone does that on some level just to get through each day. It’s why I write songs, because the passion, the anger, the love, it’s all too much sometimes. I have to get it out.”

  “Like your tattoos.”

  His lips curved into an easy smile. “Yeah, like my tattoos. Only those are things I want to keep hold of, too. Those are feelings that will always be a part of me. They represent times in my life that I don’t ever want to lose. Good and bad.”

  She gazed into his eyes as he leaned over her, and she wondered what stars had to align to bring them together—and what greater force saw past his fighting and past her dislike of the sport to something bigger than both of them?

  He brushed her hair from her cheek. His eyes roved over her face, lingering on her eyes, and she swore she could see his emotions radiating from them.

  “I see so much when I look at you,” she said softly.

  “Tell me what you see.” His voice was silky smooth, like water flowing over her.

  Sky had always seen emotions in colors, as she was now. The sensations had always fascinated her, but she was sure it was exactly what the universe wanted her to see. “I see shades of the color blue, and I feel…” She hesitated. The things she felt were so personal, so intense, that she was afraid to say them aloud.

  He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Tell me, sweetheart. What do you see?”

  “I see devotion. Deep-seated. And honesty.” As she said the words they bloomed bigger, fuller, more meaningful and real. She reached up and ran her finger along his jaw. “And a lot of passion, which feels red to me. I get the sense of stability beneath it, but it’s not really stable. Like you’re standing in the middle of a plain and just beneath the surface the earth is shaking. And…” She traced the ridge of his cheekbone. “Lots and lots of orange and yellow.” She smiled, and curiosity filled his dark eyes.

  “What do those colors mean?”

  “That you’re powerful, creative, and emotional. Very emotional.” She pressed both hands to his cheeks. She’d been dying to really touch his face. To feel his energy. “I see other stuff, but it’s not colorful. Inner peace that’s tethered by something dark. Truth. And love, Sawyer. I feel like your entire being is so full of love, which makes sense since you’re fighting for your father. And when I close my eyes”—she closed her eyes and breathed deeply—“I see you searching for balance, like you’re walking on a tightrope.”

  Her eyes came open, and pain was etched in merciless lines across his forehead, underscoring the longing in his eyes.

  “How can you see all of that in me?” His voice was full of wonder, as his body shifted closer.

  She raised her shoulders in response. She didn’t have the answers. She’d never seen or felt so much radiating from a person before, and her heart was racing with the magnificence, and intensity, of it.

  “What do you see when you look at me?” she asked.

  “A future.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, and Sky didn’t try to rein in her desires or to figure out if she was ready as his hands moved over her skin. His lips were soft and warm, his body safe and strong. As his mouth trailed along her shoulder in a sweep of slow, shivery kisses, heat spread from the tip of her head to the ends of her toes.

  They kissed for what felt like hours, with the stars shining down on them, and the bay ebbing and flowing just beyond the dunes. And when he lifted her top over her head and unclasped her bra with his thick fingers, she wasn’t nervous. She wasn’t caught up in need and out of her mind with desire. She was blissfully, happily swept up in them.

  Being with Sawyer felt too right to be wrong.

  “You’re beautiful, Sky. Inside here.” He pressed a kiss above her heart. “And in here.” He kissed her forehead.

  His hands slid up her arms, light as a feather, leaving a trail of goose bumps. He brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed each one.

  “I want to cherish you.” He dragged his tongue along her wrist, spreading an erotic rush of heat through her.

  He lifted her arm above her head and kissed the sensitive crease of her elbow, working his way up to her neck, then along the curve of her shoulder again. He dragged his tongue along the ridge, and then followed the line with his finger, and when he stopped, she knew he’d noticed her tattoo.

  “May I see?”

  She rolled onto her stomach, and he gathered her hair to one side, then traced the lines of her tattoo with his finger.

  “Roots,” he said. “They run deep.”

  “Family,” she whispered.

  She closed her eyes as he traced the roots across her shoulder blade, then down the center of her spine. His finger trailed up the trunk of the tree. Then he pressed his lips to the center of her back.

  He moved his hands down, and he traced the word Blessed that was tattooed at the base of her spine.

  “After I lost my mom, when I got back on my feet, I had that done. Her name was Bea, which means blessed.”

  He pressed his lips to each of her vertebrae. “Why are there only two limbs on the tree?”

  She rolled onto her back. His eyes were so dark, so serious, that she felt herself falling into them again—falling into him. “When I designed it, I didn’t know what my future would look like,
so I left it blank. After my father got out of rehab, I added two limbs to symbolize his growth and mine.”

  “Same cloth, Sky. You weathered your mother’s death and your father’s alcoholism. I’ve endured the slow loss of my own father. Every word on my back symbolizes a piece of me or a piece of him. A piece of my family being chipped away. The twisted, awful pain, and the incredibly wonderful memories. You and I wear the scars of our lives in words and symbols.”

  She didn’t wait for him to lower his lips to hers. She arched up to press her mouth to his, opening up to him in ways she never had to anyone else. The way he spoke, as if every word came directly from his soul, drew her further into him and made her want to know more about him, to feel the emotions inside him.

  His arms circled her. She’d already become accustomed to the way he held her so close, like he couldn’t get close enough, and she felt it, too. Her emotions swelled when they were together, and her desires spiraled through her, vying for more—more of him, more of his time, more of his truths.

  Their kiss spoke of their intense connection, without pretenses, without fear or a frantic pace. He deepened the kiss, and she didn’t want to hold back anymore. She didn’t care that this was only their second date, or that she’d once said she’d wait to have sex if she felt herself falling for a man. She didn’t want to wait until she fell head over heels in love—she wanted to feel their bodies join together, to feel herself tumbling down that magical slope.

  Her fingers moved over the hard planes of his chest, to the grooves between his abs, and finally came to rest on the button of his jeans.

  He covered her hand with his. “Sky.” He searched her eyes again, and she wanted to thank him for being so patient and for caring enough to ask again just to be sure. But all she could do was get lost in the emotions in his eyes.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Very,” was all she could manage before wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

  She fumbled with his zipper, wanting to be closer. To feel his skin on hers, his weight pressing down on her. Without breaking their kiss, he worked the zipper of his jeans, then rose up above her as he dragged the zipper down. Her mouth went dry at the sight of the wide crown of his erection.

  “Protection,” she said hastily, reaching for the hips of his jeans and tugging them downward. He was on his knees, and his jeans stopped at the bulk of his massive thighs as he dug into his back pocket and withdrew a condom from his wallet.

  He rose to his feet and moved his hips in a sexy striptease as he stripped bare, revealing the thick girth of his arousal. He brought the condom packet to his teeth, and Sky couldn’t resist going up on her knees and slicking her tongue up the length of his eager erection.

  He hissed out a noise, his eyes pinned on her, as she licked him base to tip again, then wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him as she swirled her tongue over the tip. His moan of pleasure vibrated through him as she took him into her mouth and gripped his hips, sliding him in and out slowly as she stared into his eyes.

  “Sky…” A warning.

  She felt him swell in her mouth, and she slowed her efforts, releasing his hips and gripping his shaft. Her eyes still on his, she dragged her tongue over the tip again. She’d never felt so confident, so in control as she did right then. She’d always been a little hesitant sexually, a little unsure. But the way he touched her, the way he looked at her, like she was the only woman he ever wanted, made her confidence soar. And the way he made her feel when he touched her made her want to pleasure him, to give back with the same intensity he gave to her.

  His hands were shaking as he reached for her, but she wasn’t ready to relinquish control just yet. Wanting to give him the same thrill he’d given her, she rose to her feet, hips swaying as she stripped off her skirt, then shimmied from her lacy panties and dragged them across his chest.

  “Sky,” he groaned as he gripped her hips. “You’re killing me.”

  She rocked her hips against him, earning herself another heady groan. His chin fell to his chest, eyes blazing with desire. She brought his fingers to her mouth and swirled her tongue around them, feeling a rush of satisfaction by the hunger in his eyes. She pressed his fingers between her legs and sank onto them as she curled her hand around the nape of his neck, drawing him into a fierce, possessive kiss. He stroked and thrust, kissed and nipped, as they moaned into each other’s mouths. Then his mouth was on her neck, his fingers still stroking her, taking her higher and higher, and his mouth—his hot, gloriously talented mouth—came down upon her breast, circling the tight bud with his tongue. He sucked her nipple, applying exquisite pressure that seared straight to her core. She cried out his name, gripping his arms and gasping for breath as she succumbed to the intensity of their passion. Her body throbbed and pulsed, desperate for more of him, as he lowered her to her back and perched between her legs. Her lust-filled brain brought him in and out of focus as he sheathed his shaft and lowered himself down upon her.

  His thick crown pressed against her, taunting, teasing as he gyrated his hips, pushing into her one torturous fraction of an inch at a time. Stretching her, nudging her thighs open with his knees as she arched to take him in.

  “So big…So good.” She pressed on the back of his hips, urging him deeper, craving all of him faster even as he took her slowly.

  “You’re so tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” She wrapped her legs around his thick waist.

  He gripped her hips and pressed them back down to the pillows. “It’s been a long time for me, Sky. If I move too fast, this is going to be over before we really get started.”

  She couldn’t suppress her smile. “You mean you’re not out there porking all your fangirls?”

  “Porking my…? No.” He half laughed as he pressed his lips to hers and his hands slid from her hips.

  She arched up and slid down, burying him inside her with one swift move.

  A groan rumbled through his chest. He ground out her name as their bodies began moving in perfect sync. “Sky…Shit…Slower…”

  She clung to his biceps. “Can’t. Feels too good.” She rocked her hips, loving the feel of being so full of him. His chest pressed against hers, and she felt his thundering heart, but it was the look in his eyes that once again made her insides melt. Two days was all it took—two days, a handful of kisses, and his warm and open heart—to make her his.

  He slid his hands beneath her ass and held on tight as he drove into her faster, harder, so deep she knew she’d be the best kind of sore tomorrow.

  “Sky—”

  He sealed his lips over hers. Pleasure radiated down her chest and spread through her limbs, rousing more and more passion inside her. His raw power rivaled the sensuality of his languid kisses, filling her with anticipation. Her breaths came in long, needful gasps.

  “Oh God…Sawyer.” She clung to him, her thighs tight, her pulse racing, as he moved with perfect precision, stroking her into a frenetic rush of bucks and cries. She had no idea what words streamed from her lungs as his teeth grazed over her shoulder and lights exploded behind her closed lids.

  “Not…Gonna…Last.” He buried his face in her neck as he surrendered to his own intense release. “So…Good.”

  Her inner muscles pulsed around his thick length, and she felt every shudder of his release vibrate through him, until they collapsed on the pillows, spent and sated. Moonlight streamed over their glistening bodies, as he rolled to the side, rid himself of the condom, and gathered her against him.

  “Lay your head on my shoulder. Your heart next to mine,” he whispered. “I’ll take it all. Hear it through.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll wrestle your demons, to remain beside you.”

  She wondered at his words, but as she closed her eyes she was lulled to sleep by the beat of his heart.

  Chapter Ten

  THE NEXT MORNING Sky awoke early to an empty room, with the early-morning sun peering dow
n on her through the glass ceiling of the rooftop room in Sawyer’s house. She rolled over and found a handwritten note on the pillow beside her, and like the one he’d given her the other night with his phone number, it was written on a torn scrap of paper. Lying beside it was a single pink Knock Out rose. She smiled as she lifted the rose and inhaled its sweet aroma, then read the note.

  Crying out in your movements. Graceful, longing, hanging by a thread. The longing I see. Set it free, lovely. Come to me.

  She marveled again at his words, wondering if he was the P-town poet. Turning the paper over, she found another note, written less hastily, every letter carefully formed.

  You were sleeping so soundly I couldn’t bear to wake you. There’s coffee on the counter and clean towels in the bathroom. I’m sure by the time you wake up I’ll be inside, but if not, join me? S.

  She walked naked to the windows overlooking the water and noticed a few pencils and pens and a scrap of paper against the wall. He’d said this was where he wrote songs, and she imagined him sitting by the window, overlooking the sunset as he scrawled verse after verse. She gazed out the window and caught sight of Sawyer down on the beach. His shoulders were rounded forward, his hands fisted, as he punched the air. He bounced on the balls of his feet, the way she’d seen fighters do on television. He was shirtless, and from her vantage point, the words on his back blurred together, shadows of darkness inked into his skin.

  She watched him with interest as he fought an invisible contender. She pressed the note to her chest. She hadn’t ever woken up alone in a man’s house before, and strangely, she didn’t feel as though she’d been abandoned. Sawyer intrigued her. There were so many layers to him. He’d cherished every inch of her body last night with tenderness and had taken her equally as roughly and possessively in the wee hours of the morning, somehow knowing exactly when or what she’d needed and wanted with every touch.

  She gazed out the window as Sawyer turned toward the house. Even from so far away she could tell he was smiling as he lifted his hand in a similar wave to the one he’d given her outside her window in P-town. She felt a pang of excitement race through her and then realized she was standing there naked. A shiver of embarrassment slid over her and just as quickly melted away.