Edge (Gentry Boys #7)

by Cora Brent

  When I took my eyes off the flat ribbon of highway and looked at her the gentleness I saw in her eyes threatened to cut me open.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I blurted out and it sounded like sappy soap opera talk even to my own ears. Roslyn was probably used to being told how gorgeous she was and she didn’t blush or argue this time. She just smiled and settled back into her seat to watch the miles pass.

  I had turned off the radio earlier while Roslyn was sleeping but now I switched it back on. It crackled to life via satellite and the reception was crystal clear despite the remote location. Roslyn practically squealed with delight when I switched to a station that played mostly music from the 1980s.

  Funny thing I’d noticed about Roslyn; I used to assume she was nothing but high maintenance. Yet in the short amount of time I’d spent with her I had already learned that it was the small things, the tiny everyday joys, that made her eyes light up. We sped through the dark landscape of southern California to the soundtrack of The Bangles and Bon Jovi. We talked and she dozed off again for a while. When she awoke I pulled into a rest stop to gas up, use the bathroom and get some coffee. We’d reached the outskirts of the San Diego metro area and even though it would still be some time before the sun rose I could tell the sky was not as dark as it had been.

  “How much longer?” she asked once we were back on the road. She was excited, sitting up straight in her seat and already craning her neck around for a glimpse of the ocean, which was still miles away. She reminded me a little bit of Evie right now, the way she practically vibrated with infectious enthusiasm. I wondered how they’d get along, Evie and Roslyn. Well, Evie got along with everyone but something told me the two of them would hit it off uncommonly well.

  “About an hour left,” I said, and then smugly and silently congratulated myself for coming up with this bright idea.

  By the time we reached the beach the eastern sky had lightened to a soft gray and it was easy to imagine the sun peeking over the horizon shortly.

  “What are you doing?” I asked Roslyn as I pulled two more blankets out of the trunk of the car. She was standing about ten feet away, eyes closed, arms outstretched like she was deep in meditation.

  “Enjoying,” she said over the sound of the surf lapping the shore below.

  “Well, walk this way if you want to enjoy everything a little closer to where the action is.”

  As we descended the long wooden staircase to the water I could see we weren’t the first on the scene. A handful of figures waited at the shoreline, some strapping themselves into wetsuits, others just quietly holding surfboards under their arms as they waited for the sunlight.

  We kept walking the length of the beach until there was no one in sight. Roslyn immediately dropped down on a blanket as soon as I spread it out on the sand. The cool air tasted of salt and the wind blowing off the water was brisk and invigorating.

  I stood back for a moment, just admiring the sight of a beautiful girl beside the shore. So many paintings and photos had attempted to capture a vision like this but none were as stunning as the view of Roslyn’s hair lifting in the wind as she closed her eyes and breathed in the sea air.

  She turned suddenly, noticing that I was hanging back. “Sit down,” she said, patting the blanket.

  “Here.” I tossed her the other blanket. “In case you’re cold.”

  “When I was little,” she said, smiling as she unfolded the spare blanket and draped it across her slender shoulders, “I used to pretend all that barren sand outside Emblem was one giant beach and that if I walked long enough I’d eventually step right into the ocean. You know how the washes are always littered with debris after a storm? We used to pick through the remains and imagine that the pieces of things we couldn’t identify were actually seashells. Neither of us had ever seen a real beach, not back then, but we talked about it all the time.”

  “We?”

  She nodded, sinking her fingers into the soft sand. “Me and Erin.” She sighed and withdrew her hand, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

  “It’s okay,” I said quietly. “You can talk about her.”

  Roslyn looked at me, touched my arm. “You can too.”

  I was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t talk about her at all, not for a very long time. I couldn’t even say her name until Stone dragged it out of me one day. That day was the first time I ever visited her grave and that’s when I realized I’d done her a terrible dishonor in all the time I couldn’t stand to remember her. She deserves more than just a sad legacy.”

  “Yes,” said Roslyn. “She does.”

  I watched her as she took her necklace out of her shirt and slowly pulled it over her head. She kissed the crystal on the end and then carefully placed it inside a zippered compartment in her purse.

  The seagulls were beginning to assert themselves overhead, circling over the shallow areas and shrilly competing for air space. We watched as one made a sudden dive into the water, grabbed something small in its talons and then flew toward the pier where a handful of fishermen patiently waited with their poles in the water.

  “Do you still dance?” I asked suddenly.

  Roslyn tucked her hair behind one ear and looked at me with surprise. “No, not for years. I’m surprised you even remember that about me.”

  “I do though. It’s strange, the bits and pieces of information that we store without realizing it. Ballet, right?”

  She nodded with a smile. “Yeah, mostly.”

  “So why’d you stop?”

  She shrugged and pulled her knees up to her chest. “I don’t know. Seemed like a little girl’s dream and we all have to grow up sooner or later. Sometimes I miss it though. I miss the feeling of invincibility. I miss the strength that would course through me every time I stretched into promenade en arabesque.”

  I didn’t know what that was. But there was grace in just about every movement Roslyn made and I wished suddenly and desperately that I’d seen her dance, just once.

  “Show me,” I said.

  She laughed. “What, here?”

  “Sure.”

  “Sand isn’t really conducive to ballet, Conway. A flat surface is rather a firm requirement. Besides I haven’t done it in years.”

  “So what? I bet it’s like riding a bike.”

  She shook her head and looked out over the water. I took her chin between my thumb and forefinger and moved her face back to me.

  “Please. I swear I won’t ask you for anything else.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Ever?”

  I mulled that over. “For at least an hour.”

  Her lips twitched. “All right.”

  Roslyn stood and made a show of brushing the sand off her clothes before taking a few steps in the direction of the water. Her face became serious, her gaze focused somewhere on the horizon where the sun was starting to show its face. Right there on the beach, in her running shoes and yoga pants, Roslyn Tory lifted her arms, stretched one leg straight behind her and held a pose of such magnificent glory it took my breath away. Slowly she began to rotate, swinging her body around in a perfect arc like one of those jewelry box ballerinas.

  “Damn,” I whispered because I was impressed, infatuated and absolutely fucking horny all at once.

  Then the shifting nature of the sand caught up to her and she tumbled to earth with loud laughter.

  “Damn, that felt good,” she gasped as she lay on her back and giggled in the sand.

  She was still giggling when I stretched out in the sand right next to her. I rolled to my back and stared up at the sky. A few stubborn stars still twinkled vaguely but they faded with each breath of morning wind. In the distance the surfers hooted in celebration as they braved the cold spring water and paddled out to meet the waves.

  Roslyn slipped her soft hand into mine and we watched the sky change together as we lay side by side. The sound of the surf rolled over the beach behind us, the same water that’s been riding the waves as long as there’s been an
ocean.

  There was no such thing as time. It didn’t exist in its conventional form. There was just us, the two of us, and the ancient endurance of this place.

  Roslyn’s breathing had grown deep and even and I wondered if she’d fallen asleep. When I rotated my head to look at her I saw that her eyes were indeed closed, lips slightly parted as the wind toyed with strands of her long hair, teasing them across her lovely face like wispy paintbrushes.

  She must have been awake all along though because she cracked one eye open and peered right at me. A seagull screamed right over our heads, a mighty wave crashed somewhere unseen and Roslyn rolled her body right on top of mine. She propped herself up on her elbows and stared down at me until I couldn’t take the tension anymore. I grabbed her, our mouths eager to meet again with a passionate ferocity that unleashed a growl in my throat.

  We kissed and teased and kissed some more. It wasn’t enough. I slid my hands under her shirt and rolled again until I had her pinned beneath me, my mouth moving to her neck to work the skin hard enough to make her suck in a gasp and dig her fingers into my back as her long legs wrapped around my waist.

  “Holy shit, look at that!” The voice was young, male and too close.

  “Get a room kids,” his companion said and let out a wolf whistle.

  “Fuck,” I hissed as Roslyn’s legs fell from my waist.

  I couldn’t exactly be pissed off because it was Saturday morning on a public beach. What the hell did I plan to do? Have my way with her right here on the sand in broad daylight?

  The two guys, who were probably about our age, laughed from a distance as they headed for the water with boards under their muscled arms.

  Roslyn eased out from underneath me and scooted away, brushing the sand from her clothes.

  “I think we’re about to get some more company,” she said, pointing to the distant staircase we’d descended from.

  About a dozen teenagers wearing identical yellow shirts from some local high school were running down the steps, probably part of some club or sport. They were singing a song and at the end of every stanza would erupt in a collective ‘Hoo!’.

  I stretched, yawned, and tried not to stare too greedily at the full shape of Roslyn’s breasts under that stupid t-shirt.

  “You hungry?” I asked as I started folding up blankets, in part to give my hyperactive dick a chance to calm down.

  “So hungry I could eat a cat,” she said as she grabbed the far corner of the blanket I was folding. “But I’ll settle for pancakes.”

  We found a nearby breakfast spot that specialized in tall mugs of liquefied green beans. Luckily they also served whole grain pancakes with fruit so we ordered a couple of plates of those and mugs of a dark caffeinated concoction that was supposed to be some kind of tea.

  “Drink more tea,” ordered Roslyn as she pushed the cup across the table. “You keep yawning.”

  I yawned again. “Not sure there’s enough caffeine in the world to jump start this sorry ass machine right now.”

  She swallowed a bite of strawberry. “Sorry. I would have offered to take the wheel for a little while so you could rest but I never learned how to drive a stick.”

  “It’s fine,” I said and yawned again. “Besides, I don’t need rest.”

  “That’s funny Conway because I do believe you’re about to face plant into your pancakes.”

  I made a face. “Not even close.”

  “Good. Because I’m sure I’m not strong enough to carry you out of here if you do.”

  I took a sip of tea. It tasted like dirty rainwater laced with cigarette ashes. There was something I’d been thinking about ever since we left the beach but I was a little worried about undoing this delicate new bond between us.

  “How about if we get a room?” I said as casually as I could.

  Roslyn tilted her head and looked at me strangely.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Eh, never mind. Just a thought.”

  “What was? I didn’t hear you the first time. You mumbled.”

  I cleared my throat and leaned across the table. “I asked if you wanted to get a room. A hotel room. Something right on the beach, on my dime.“ I couldn’t read the expression on her face so I kept talking. “We can hang out, we can sleep, we can order room service.”

  She looked utterly blank for a few seconds. Then a playful grin crossed her face and she leaned forward. “Is there anything else we can do?”

  In answer I reached under the table and pushed my hand between her legs. She yelped and squeezed my hand between her knees.

  I took my hand away and gave her what I thought was a serious look.

  “No conditions, Roslyn. No expectations. I just want to be with you.”

  She stared at me for so long and in such silence I was sure I’d somehow said something wrong. I was already trying to figure out how to backpedal from whatever mistake I’d unintentionally made when she set her fork down.

  “You kill me, Conway Gentry.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “Then I didn’t say it right.” She bit her lower lip and looked at me with shy vulnerability. “I want to be with you too.”

  The first nice hotel we went to claimed there weren’t any beachside balcony rooms currently available but I solved that problem with two convenient hundred dollar bills. So far I had tried to be discreet about the wad of cash I carried around but I could feel Roslyn watching with curiosity. I’d managed to skirt around her questions about what I did to make my way in the world. I got the feeling she understood my various occupations weren’t the briefcase and tie variety and I hoped that wouldn’t be a problem.

  When we reached the room she made a mad dash for the balcony, sliding the doors open and letting the cool ocean breeze in.

  “That view,” she exclaimed, staring out at the ocean while I stared right at her.

  There were still bits of sand clinging to my back so I pulled my shirt off and draped it over a chair. Roslyn turned around and her eyes roamed over my chest.

  “Think I might take a shower,” I said brightly. “A few pieces of the beach don’t seem to want to let go.”

  She pulled the sliding glass door closed behind her and took a few steps in my direction, hugging her arms around herself.

  “Seems like that’s how we got into trouble last time.”

  I grinned broadly. “I don’t remember any trouble.”

  She smirked and abruptly grabbed the edges of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one smooth stroke. Evidently she hadn’t switched her bra to match her loungewear. It was black and lace and fucking fantastic.

  “You’re making this really hard,” she accused with a stern look and I recognized my own words. I’d said them to her that morning, when I was half-heartedly trying to be a good guy.

  I dropped my pants in a flash, relishing the way her eyes widened.

  “I can tell,” I said, and let the sight of my stiff cock send the rest of the message.

  Even though I was crazy with lust we kept things PG-13 in the shower. There was touching and kissing and soap but that’s all. I didn’t want to rush through our next time and I was kind of enjoying all the teasing and the foreplay. Usually I just went right for the target but with Roslyn I was learning there was something to be said for anticipation.

  Afterwards, she was standing in front of the vanity mirror, toweling off her long hair with a smile and wearing a robe with the hotel logo. The fatigue that had kept me yawning over my pancakes was a distant memory. As inviting as the bed looked, I could think of a lot more fun things to use it for than sleeping.

  I sat on the edge where I had a good view of Roslyn combing through her wet hair with her fingers. She paused to tighten the loose belt on her terrycloth robe and then noticed that I was staring.

  “Stop that,” she complained with a cute blush.

  “Stop what?”

  “Watching. It makes me self-conscious. So stop.”

  “No.�
�

  She turned and leaned against the counter, facing me with a serious expression.

  “Lose the robe,” I ordered.

  She smiled. “Lose the towel.”

  I stood, whipped the damn thing off and practically threw it across the room.

  Roslyn had stopped smiling. She pressed her lips together like she was nervous and kept her eyes on my face as her fingers loosened the terrycloth belt. The robe hung open and she took several slow steps in my direction, then allowed it to fall from her shoulders.

  “Gorgeous,” I told her, my voice catching a little.

  She waited beside the bed until I pulled the covers back. As I eased her down to the cool sheets I fought the urge to immediately bury my face in her tits or between her legs. I wanted to look at her first and so I did. I looked for so long that she started to squirm so I took one finger and ran it softly down her body, starting with her delicate collarbone, down over her heart, between her full breasts, over the taut muscles of her belly, finally idling playfully over the entrance I was just about dying to breach.

  “Conway,” she moaned as she writhed, reaching for me.

  I loved the sound of my name on her lips, the way she sighed at my touch. I’d just about had enough of being gentle though.

  There was already a condom waiting on the nightstand because I wasn’t going to commit the same oversight twice. I slid it on as discreetly as I could with one hand while the other one kept working between her legs as she opened for me eagerly. Without warning I pushed inside of her. Hard. She let out this gasping moan and clutched my arms. After only about a dozen deep thrusts she was close to the brink but I didn’t want her going over, not yet. I pulled out and teased her with the tip of my cock, gritting my teeth to stay focused and breaking a sweat from every pore. Roslyn whimpered. She bucked her hips in desperation. She begged and spread her legs wider but I wouldn’t give her what she wanted until she said my name again.

  “Please,” she cried, gripping my shoulders.

  In response I rotated my hips around and around, teasing the tip just inside as she quivered underneath me.

  “Conway!” she yelled and I went wild, thrusting into her with every ounce of power I had.