Cocktails on the Beach

by Helen Hardt

  Fun, maybe even incredible, but it wouldn’t satisfy this soul-deep hunger.

  “Sunscreen, Britt.” Luka pressed his fingers into my shoulder, angling me toward him.

  He’d retrieved the tube from the side pocket of my backpack. He squeezed a generous dollop into his hand, screwed the lid on, and tossed it back into the pile of our belongings under a palm tree. Spreading the cream between both palms, he started at my shoulders, slathering it over my chest, back, abdomen, and—finally!—bare breasts. His touch was light but firm, moving in lazy circles to rub the sunscreen into my skin. I’d picked up some color since arriving on the island, but my boobs had never seen the bright light of day like this. I looked down to watch his hands, tanned and nimble, stroke white smears of lotion over the globes of my breasts, paying special care to the tips.

  “Mmmm.”

  My long, low moan and the stiffening of my nipples pleased him; his half-smile was possessive, arrogant, masterful.

  “Sunburned nipples are no fun.” He ran a finger along my lower lip, tugging it partly open. “Same for lips. Next time get sunscreen lip balm with an SPF of at least fifty. As a redhead, you’re more sensitive.”

  I giggled. Couldn’t help it. Standing half-naked on the beach with a gorgeous doctor sporting an obvious erection, and he was worried about my Sun Protection Factor.

  Luka took my hand and led me into the undulating waves.

  “We have to go farther out. The water is shallow here.”

  He was right. We waded out about a hundred yards—the length of a football field—before it got deep enough to submerge completely.

  “It feels like bathwater.” A leisurely breaststroke kept my head above water as Luka floated on his back nearby.

  “It’s about eighty degrees this time of year. That’s the coolest it gets. In August and September, it warms up to eighty-four, eighty-five.”

  “Last March, Denver got two feet of snow. Steamboat Springs got four.” I waited for the pang that accompanied reminders of Mona and Nick’s unintentional betrayal…but none came. “Do you miss snow or the change of seasons?”

  Luka paused for a moment. I liked that he considered my question before answering, knowing his answer would be thoughtful.

  “I spent so many years working on my medical degree that I didn’t pay attention to anything else. Both of my parents are dead. I didn’t have time for friends or dating. Because I don’t have family, I volunteered to cover holiday shifts. Snow and cold were something to deal with driving to and from work. There are times when I miss autumn. That was my mother’s favorite time of year.”

  “My mom likes springtime. She’s big into gardening. She’d go to the nursery and come home with the entire back end of the minivan full of seedlings and starter plants. My sister and I hated it. We wanted to hang out with our friends, and instead, we had to help Mom put in all those plants.” I rolled in the water, looking up into the sky.

  Mona knew how much I hated working in the dirt, so she always volunteered to do my share. After the plants were in, Mom took us for mani/pedis. Mona liked fun colors like blue and green while I was ruby red every time. My eyes stung as I remembered those happy times. For the past year, I’d done nothing but envy Mona. She was my sister, and I loved her. Instead of being glad she’d found her special someone, I clung to my self-righteous resentment. Shame added to the burn of tears.

  “You’re close to your family?” Luka splashed at a seagull diving too close to the surface of the water.

  “Oh, yes. We all live in the same area and get together once or twice a week. Brunch every Sunday and Taco Tuesdays or Friday Game Night. My sister…just got married.”

  “Do you like your brother-in-law?”

  That was a question I frequently asked myself.

  “I dated him before he hooked up with Mona.” I wiggled my fingers in the water, and my heart gave me my answer. “Nick is a nice guy. He and Mona didn’t cheat or anything like that. It just happened.”

  I closed my eyes, imagining the air quotes around that phrase drifting up and away, into the white marshmallow clouds.

  “It just happened,” I repeated. “They’re really, truly, deeply in love. I’m glad I found out Nick wasn’t the guy for me before our relationship went any further. Even if he hadn’t met Mona, we wouldn’t have lasted.”

  Master Po had been urging me to let go for months. I should have heeded his advice. Without the jealousy and bitterness, my heart felt lighter.

  “They’re pregnant,” I told Luka. “I’m going to be Aunt Britt in a few months.”

  The waves had pushed us back toward the beach. Luka planted his feet on the sandy bottom, wrapped his fingers around my wrist, and pulled me to him in the waist-deep water.

  “You’re going to be a very cool aunt.”

  “You think?” I found my footing and steadied myself with my hands on his shoulders, my breasts pressed against his chest. When his hand slid to cup my butt, pressing me against his erection, I curved my leg around his hip, aligning his cock with my cleft. I slowly ground against him, the subtle push and pull of the tide adding to the rhythm.

  “You’re gutsy and independent. Smart. Fun. Creative.” He coiled a strand of wet hair around his finger and tugged. “You’ll be the aunt who lets them eat ice cream for dinner, stay up past bedtime when they sleep over, and as they get older, the one they come to for advice when they can’t talk to their parents. Everyone should have an aunt like that.”

  I pictured myself painting glitter nail polish on tiny toes or cheering from the top of the bunny slope. I suddenly couldn’t wait to find out if Mona and Nick were having a girl or a boy.

  “You’re bold and sexy and adventurous.” Luka caressed the swell of my breast. “Every man wants a lover like that.”

  “I’m all yours, Doctor Man.” I circled my arms around his neck and locked both legs around his waist, aligning our bodies from hip to chest. He throbbed against me in counterpoint to the slow beat of the waves.

  Luka splayed his hands across my back and bent to kiss me. He brushed his mouth across mine and then traced the seam with his tongue. His gentle exploration immediately deepened into a passionate plunder as his mouth widened, demanding, hungry. My own need became equally as urgent as I sought to kiss him deeper and harder. His lips were firm and warm, salty and sweet, and I lost myself in the taste and flavor uniquely Luka.

  Desperate for a breath, I threw back my head and gasped, tropical air filling my lungs. He licked a trail along my jaw and down my throat.

  “I want to taste all of you.” Using the buoyance of the water, he shifted so one arm was under my knees, the other supporting my back. He carried me out of the ocean like a water god returning a rescued maiden to land.

  Setting me on my feet, he pulled a beach blanket from the supplies he’d packed and laid it out under a palm tree. Turning, he unlaced the drawcord of his shorts and shoved them over his hips, kicking them away when they fell to the sand.

  Completely unself-conscious, he stood and waited as I absorbed every detail of his body. Looking wasn’t enough. I ran my fingertips over the sharp edge of his collarbone and curved my palms over his pecs. I dragged my fingers over the ripple of muscles along his ribs and stomach and traced the V-cut of his abs right down to the thick erection jutting proudly from a dark patch of hair. I wrapped my hand around the powerful length and stroked leisurely, flicking my gaze from the shifting expressions on his face—furrowed brows easing as anticipation became actuality—to the sexy hand job.

  “Wait.” He wrapped his fingers around my hand to stop the pumping motion, voice thick, like the word was hard to get out. “Bad timing, but I’m a…doctor. Protection, and all that.”

  “My annual exam came back clean, and I haven’t been with anyone since. I have an IUD, but I brought condoms, too.”

  “Do you always pack condoms when you travel for work?” His words were terse—jealous, not suspicious.

  “I had different expectations ab
out this trip. I envisioned a resort with cabana boys who deliver tropical drinks with tiny umbrellas in them and singles looking for a vacation hookup. Instead, I got a bungalow with a great view of the Isla Tortuga Verde cove, mango bellinis, and you.” I wet a finger and spiraled the flat coin of his nipple. “Reality is so much better than fantasy.”

  “I haven’t been with anyone in…years.” The admission cost him. Male ego and all that. “When I applied for the temporary assignment that landed me here, I underwent a thorough medical screening. I can wear—”

  I slipped my hands under his arms, ran them down his sides, and bracketed his hips as I sank to my knees. His hip bones pressed into the fleshy pads under my thumbs as I steadied him, opening my mouth around the head of his cock.

  PIV sex—penis in vagina—is awesome, but oral sex is a different level of giving and receiving. There’s also a greater differentiation in control—who’s dominant, who’s subservient, who’s really calling the shots. Kneeling in front of Luka should have felt submissive, yet he was completely at my mercy.

  I gathered saliva on my tongue, laving his cock until it glistened. Hollowing my cheeks, I sucked as I bobbed my head back and forth, lips dragging up and down his slick flesh. He tasted of sun and salt, clean and natural, having just swum in the sea. I closed my eyes to focus all my attention on the fullness in my mouth, the rhythm of my sucking, and learning what he liked best.

  The crown plowed the ridged palate along the top of my mouth and then banged the back of my throat.

  “Ah, Britt. Like that. Again.” Deep guttural groans punctuated each bump.

  I opened wider to keep from gagging, swirled my tongue around the warm pulsing length of him, and increased the tempo of my oral strokes.

  My moans echoed his, filling the humid air. Noisy sex turned me on like crazy, and I felt myself getting wetter and hotter.

  He wound his fingers in my tangled hair, holding on but not trying to control me. As if he understood sucking his cock gave me just as much enjoyment as it did him.

  I didn’t want our first sex act to end so quickly, but it had been years for Luka. His muscles tensed and shuddered as he fought to hold back his climax, but I wanted him to come. I wanted his body to go rock hard and then liquify as his pleasure hit a pinnacle and then drifted back to earth like a feather.

  “I’m about to come,” Luka shouted, his grip tightening and causing a pleasure-pain burn on my scalp. “Let me pull out.”

  My fingers clenched, digging into his hips. I slammed my mouth up and down his cock until I felt the surge of ejaculate against my throat.

  He swayed, took a faltering step backwards, and then dropped onto his knees. Cradling my face in his hands, he kissed the corner of my mouth and then the other. His touch was reverent, grateful, enthralled.

  Instinctively, I knew Luka didn’t often reveal his vulnerabilities and needs. He was a protector, a healer. Strong, wise, dedicated. I felt honored that he’d entrusted me with his soft side…and a little frightened.

  There would be no casual sex with Luka. He didn’t do casual.

  In my head, the sound of someone clearing his throat warned me Master Po was about to dispense with more indisputable advice.

  Since when do you do no-strings-attached hookups, Grasshopper?

  8

  Luka

  “Move in with me, Britt. Until you leave.” I traced patterns over the smooth skin of her hip as we spooned after another mind-blowing session. Since the trip to Shark Rock, we’d spent every minute together—working on the materials she needed for the advertising campaign and making love. She only had three more days on the island, and I wanted every second of that time.

  “I thought we were going to keep business and pleasure separate.” She snuggled closer, the warmth of her ass jumpstarting another hard-on.

  “It’s a small town, babe. Everyone knows we’re sleeping together.” I slid my hand across her stomach, flat and toned and golden from hours in the sun. Murky morning sunshine cascaded through my bedroom window blinds, horizontal bands of light and shadow that reminded me of prison bars. It soured my mood, deflating my rising lust like a pinprick to a balloon.

  A huge weather system was headed our way, and the gloom matched my mood.

  “All of my stuff is at the bungalow.”

  I didn’t know if that was an excuse or a logistical issue. “You can set up your laptop at the kitchen table.”

  “I don’t know. The WiFi signal is better at my place because it’s up that hill.” She twisted to face me, stroking the scruff that left her inner thighs red and abraded after I went down on her but that she said was part of the pleasure. “Let me think about it.”

  “Sure. No pressure.” Unable to say what I really wanted to, I resorted to the one thing I knew might convince her.

  Flipping on my back, I urged her to straddle me, hands on either side of my head. I scooted down the bed, kicking the sheets out of the way, until her pussy was right above my mouth.

  She splayed her legs, making it easier for me to lick and suck the pink folds covered in her juices.

  “Unnnn, Luka. I can’t think when you do that.”

  That was my intent.

  Three days. To an exhausted medical resident, seventy-two hours tunneled to a tiny point on some distant horizon. To a man in love, it was a cruel time warp.

  I filled my hands with tight, firm ass, holding her against my mouth so I could bury my face in the scent and taste of her. I nosed her clit as I darted and swirled and stroked. Her thighs pressed against my ears, blocking out everything except her.

  Britt rocked against my face, a signal her climax was close. I found the tiny nub at the top of her cleft and caught it in my teeth.

  She squealed in protest and squirmed, but I held fast. It interrupted her rhythm, forced her to rebuild the moment leading toward satisfaction.

  “Lu-ka.” She murmured my name in a seductive sing-song voice. “I love the way your mouth feels on me. Please let me come.”

  I released her and started licking her again with the flat of my tongue. Each time I swiped her clit, she gave a little jerk. I loved when she rolled her hips, gently humping my face, breath coming in short pants, lost in her own perfect world.

  “Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Almost…there!” She crooned the last word, raised up on her arms, spine arching, as the orgasm surged through her body.

  My cock stood rigid, and I longed to buck up into her heat and tightness for my own release. Instead, I reached down, fisted my hand around the base and stroked the turgid length as I languidly circled my tongue around her clit while she came down from her high. I clenched my ass cheeks, felt my balls tighten, and came, hot semen spilling over my hand.

  “That’s hot. I love watching you touch yourself.”

  With my mouth full of Britt, I could only grunt in agreement. She wiggled her way down my torso, rubbing her slit against my sticky cock. She lay across my chest, and a sense of rightness settled over me.

  Same thing happened when Doc offered me the position on Isla Tortuga Verde. We’d met when I was working a locum tenens assignment at St. John’s Hospital on Montserrat. He was looking for a physician to take over the clinic so he could retire to nearby Belle Isle where his daughter and grandchildren lived. I had no interest in returning to Boston and wasn’t sure what was next. I needed to make a difference, but Doc recognized I also need a sense of purpose and a place to belong. The island, the clinic, and the people there provided everything I needed…until I met Britt.

  “Martina is going to come looking for us if we don’t get a move on.” Britt rolled off me and sat on the side of the bed.

  “Go ahead and grab a shower. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.” I needed some space. It was getting harder and harder not to ask Britt to stay. As much as I cared about her and believed we could make a relationship work, it wasn’t fair to ask her to move 2,500 miles away from her family and forfeit her career. Especially when I wasn’t willing to do the sam
e.

  “We can have coffee at the clinic.” She posed in the doorway to the small bathroom. “I need someone to wash my back.”

  “Go. You put the fear of God in me now, picturing Martina marching down the street and pounding on the door while I’m doing you doggie-style.”

  She laughed, and a second later, I heard the shower.

  Three days wasn’t nearly enough, but it was all I had.

  “How far along are you, Ana?” Britt set the digital recorder on a small metal stand next to the exam table.

  “Thirty-four weeks.” My patient reclined on the table as I took her vitals and listened to the baby’s heartbeat with a fetal doppler. The fetus sounded good, but I was worried about Momma.

  Over the cacophony of whipping wind and torrential rain, thunder boomed. A second later, there was the sharp cracking sound of a tree trunk splitting. We all waited, listening for the telltale sound of metal screeching or walls crashing that would indicate the tree had landed on a building, but nothing followed except the reverberating thud of the tree hitting the ground.

  “I’m glad you made it before the storm hit.” I pulled Ana’s flowered shirt down. “I didn’t think it would be this bad. The winds are really causing problems, but you’re safe here.”

  Eljon Mendoza, Ana’s husband, stood near the doorway, running the brim of his hat through his fingers. Ana had lost her first two pregnancies around fifteen weeks, so they were understandably anxious. Over the past two days, Ana had begun experiencing symptoms that alarmed me—severe headaches, blurred vision, vomiting, and edema in her face and hands.

  “Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” Britt was doing a great job keeping Ana distracted as I ran through my assessment.

  “No. We’ll find out when the baby gets here.” Ana’s smile wavered, her face pale against her long brown hair. “Eljon wants a boy. I’m hoping for a girl.”